Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(6)

The blue eyes flashed white and the slaughtered minions started to squirm around him. Those who were able to stand rose to their feet, while the ones in chunks flailed like newborn babes.

“Where is that famous Latin temper, Santos?” the girl asked. She stepped over the writhing bits of human flesh, advancing on him.

“There is another one,” Santos said at last. “And you have enslaved her, Etzli?” His dark eyes darted toward his sister.

“I serve her,” Etzli replied, her voice filled with reverence.

Bloodied fingers gripped at Santos’s legs. Glancing downward, he saw Ricky’s upper half attempting to drag him to the floor while his legs flailed nearby. With disgust, Santos kicked the partial corpse away.

“I will not kneel,” he said at last. “This is still my cabal. You will have to kill me to take it.”

“I don’t want to kill you,” the blonde vampire said, laughing. “Not yet. I don’t need to kill you to take your cabal from you.”

Another vampire attempted to attack Etzli. She lashed out, and another head rolled across the floor.

Rippling waves of dark magic flowed out of the new vampire, a visible manifestation of her power. Resembling great wings, the darkness knitted the corpses into monstrous creations.

“No!” Santos gasped, at last understanding. “No! You’re dead!”

“Do you really think a little thing like the death of my body would stop me?” The girl laughed with delight. “You’re such a foolish little child.”

The massive creatures made of human flesh, bone, and sinew roared. Teeth made of broken bones filled their maws.

Santos sought out his sister’s gaze, desperate to understand her betrayal. “Etzli, why?”

“Because The Summoner is our future. We’ve become weak and complacent. The Summoner will restore us to greatness.” Lifting her chin, she visibly dared him to argue with her.

The hulking monsters of flesh moved menacingly toward Santos. They disgusted him and he took a step away from them.

“We’re blood, Etzli. You can’t betray me this way.”

“I’m not betraying you, Santos. I’m saving you. You’re weak. Pathetic. These little games you play are silly and childish. You want to be king of your own realm instead of realizing the greatness of what we are.” Etzli resembled the Aztec blood goddess she claimed to be as she stepped out from amidst the vampires she had crippled. “Our time is coming. Either you stand with us, or die.”

Santos shifted his gaze to the woman he now realized was The Summoner. How the ancient vampire had come to reside in the body of the slender blonde woman was of no importance. The glowing white eyes and cold smirk terrified him.

“The Summoner has returned to us. She will guide us to our true victory,” Etzli proclaimed to all the vampires. “She is the purity of our power.”

Stepping toward Santos, The Summoner raised her hands. “Kneel, Santos.” A ring flashed on one finger, and Santos flinched, a sharp pain filling him. The monsters made of flesh and bone shambled forward, their gigantic arms made of the intertwined limbs of the dead tipped with massive claws made of bone. The blood splattered across the room slithered like red snakes across the floor, wrapping around the girl’s body before sinking into her pale skin. As the bright red liquid vanished into the body of The Summoner, the death magic of the necromancer/vampire increased. Razor sharp slashes of power shredded through Santos. At first he thought it was an illusion, then he felt his cold vampire blood oozing from the many wounds covering his body.

“I said...kneel.” The smirk was gone. A cold, impassive face stared at him. The white glowing eyes compelled him to obey.

Shuddering, Santos locked his legs, refusing to fall to The Summoner’s power. “No.”

A corner of The Summoner’s lips twitched, a ghost of a smile appearing.

One of the monsters swung its long arm, its claws glistening wetly. Santos fell as his leg was torn from his body. Gritting his teeth, he refused to cry out or reveal his agony. Willing his wound to heal, he felt his powers waning. Silence filled the room. Lifting his head, he saw the vampires of his cabal were all shifting their healing bodies into kneeling positions. Gregorio was already prostrate before Etzli.

Striding over to Santos, The Summoner planted her small foot on his chest, shoving him onto his back. “You will kneel before me willingly.” Pressing down, she broke his sternum, driving it into his heart. “Do you understand me?” Applying more pressure, she cracked ribs.

Blood bubbling on his lips, Santos glowered up at The Summoner.

“Kill him,” Etzli said, her dark eyes hard as obsidian.

“No,” The Summoner intervened. “Chop his other leg off, drain his blood, and pack him away until he’s needed.” Tilting her head, her blonde hair stained red by the blood she had consumed, The Summoner said to the cabal, “You serve me now.”

“Yes, Master,” they answered in unison.

“Our time comes.” Leaning down, The Summoner gripped a handful of Santos’s hair and drew his face close to hers. “You will see my greatness. You were a babe playing the games of children. Soon you will see true power.”




Amaliya shoved the silver dagger into the sheath in her boot and reached for a second one tucked into the foam of the weapons locker Cian had hidden in the base of one of the guest beds in their penthouse.