Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(84)

“More than any other,” The Summoner answered.

Somewhere in the absolute dark, Bianca wept.

“You will let the others go. You will not hurt them.”

“As long as you are by my side, I will not hurt them.”

“Why do you want me?” This time the question was one she had been craving to ask for months. Ever since the night he had taken her out for coffee, then f*cked and killed her.

“Because you’re chaos personified. Pure power. Dark and beautiful. You are perfectly destructive.”

The Summoner meant every word he said. She felt the truth resonating deep within her.

Do not run away, Amal.

Again, her grandmother’s voice, but no one else trapped in the icy dark heard it but her.

Unable to utter the words he wanted to hear, Amaliya seized upon the alternative. Releasing the dam that held back her deepest, most terrifying desires for The Summoner, the darkness, and death, she pressed her mouth against his. He wasn’t quite flesh, but he was corporeal enough to touch. The necromancer’s kiss was bitter ashes and blood. His tongue was cold and demanding. She attempted to slide her mouth from his when it became too much to endure, but he held her captive. Within her, the last bit of resistance broke apart and the magicks of both The Summoner and Bianca flooded into her. Weeping, she clung to The Summoner, her mouth devouring his hungrily.

This was what she had always feared in the recesses of her broken soul. That only in the absence of all that was light and good, would she find the place where she belonged.




The people gathered in the narrow hallway flinched when Cian slammed the door shut, cutting them off from the view of Etzli bound in silver and splayed out on the floor.

The ugly knot in Cassandra’s stomach had her on edge. Though a part of her was thrilled to see Etzli subdued and at their mercy, she was well aware of just how dangerous the situation actually was. Cassandra lightly touched her girlfriend’s hand seeking solace, but Aimee didn’t even look her way. The witch’s forehead was furrowed and her lips pressed into a tight line.

They weren’t the only ones ill at ease. Baptiste slid his hands slowly over his bald head, exhaling slowly. Benchley nervously scratched his nose, while his sister frowned at the tips of her battered sneakers. Jeff rubbed Samantha’s back gently, trying to soothe her, but the ugly scowl on her face did not disappear. Only Eduardo didn’t seem affected to what was about to occur. He leaned against the wall, tapping his fingers against it.

“Something’s gone wrong,” Aimee whispered.

“Yeah, we’re going all Guantanamo on Etzli,” Benchley answered.

Baptiste grimly dipped his head. “Not a good feeling.”

“Kinda like we’re the bad guys now,” Benchley agreed.

“No, that’s not it!” Aimee lifted her blue eyes and Cassandra saw stark fear in them. “Something is here!”

“Oh, God! I feel it!” Samantha took a step away from the door, visibly shivering as revulsion poured into her expression. “It’s full of death and...and...”

“Evil,” Aimee finished for her.

“Well, it is Etzli,” Alexia pointed out, but she also retreated down the hall.

“Maybe you’re feeling Cian...you know...torturing her.” The suggestion obviously made Jeff very uncomfortable, but he, too, took a few cautious steps backward.

“It’s not Etzli. It’s him!” Samantha started toward the door. Jeff futilely tried to tug her back, but Samantha twisted away from him. “Let go! He’s here!”

Aimee fell in behind Samantha, magic beginning to spark around her fingertips.

“How can you be sure?” Cassandra took a step toward the door and froze.

“Uh...that?” Benchley nearly stumbled in his haste to get away from the cell.

Black magic coursed out around the edges of the door giving it a dark, wispy aura. Ribbons of frosty energy lashed out, Aimee and Samantha both flinching under the assault. Cassandra cried out as she was whipped by the magic, welts appearing on her flesh where they struck. .

“I can see that!” Jeff exclaimed.

“Dude, we all can!” Benchley grabbed Alexia’s arm and shoved her behind him as he backed in the direction of the stairwell.

Baptiste surged forward. “We need to get them out of there!”

Cassandra was a few steps in front of him. Raising her arms to protect her face, she plunged past Samantha and Aimee. She pivoted on one foot and kicked out with the other, the heel of her boot striking the door. It took three more kicks to knock it entirely off its hinges. Baptiste thrust out his hands, a gust of warm air shoving the falling door out of their way so it spun across the cell floor.

“Oh, hell!” Samantha gasped.

A massive hole spread along the wall directly across from the doorway. It was filled with darkness and inky threads crawled along the floor, ceiling and walls like swiftly growing vines. Cian lay close to the door, his sword at his side. There was no sign of Amaliya or Etzli. The shackles that had bound Etzli were empty.

“It’s a portal!” Benchley waved at the maw of shadows. “It’s a portal!”

Tendrils of shadow lashed out toward the doorway. The floor beneath Cian shuddered, cracked, and started to give way. Cassandra grabbed her father under the armpits and dragged him out of the room seconds before the floor broke apart and fell into a pit opening up beneath the foundation of the house.