Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies #3)(94)

“I f*ckin’ hate those things,” she grunted, annoyed.

“When the thirteenth gets here, I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like.” Bianca shivered beneath the covers. “When he tears apart the veil and the abyss swallows the world he won’t need to possess me or anyone else.”

“He won’t get the thirteenth. It’s hidden,” Amaliya assured Bianca.

“No, it’s already on its way.”

“What do you mean?” Amaliya twisted about to face the other woman.

“They already cast the spell this morning to compel it to return. With the arrival of the twelfth ring, they were able to finally call it here. It’ll possess the closest person to it and have them come here.”

Dread filling her, Amaliya stared at Bianca. “Are you sure?”

Bianca nodded.

“But we have until December 21st, right? The end of the Mayan calendar?”

Bianca sadly shook her head. “No, no. Once the sword is whole, he can slice the veil apart. To allow the abyss to consume the world, he’ll have to perform a ritual. For the ritual to work, he’ll need to feed off the fear of thousands. The hysteria over 2012 is helping him.”

“So it has nothing to do with the end of the Mayan calendar?” Amaliya stared at Bianca in disbelief.

“Other than he’s going to use the fear over the possible end of the world to actually end the world? No. Not really.” Bianca’s hand gingerly touched Amaliya’s. “He loves his games though. He’s going to make the end of our world and the beginning of his spectacular.” Leaning toward Amaliya, she cast a wary look at The Summoner. Satisfied that he was still in a trance, she whispered, “He doesn’t know that I saw some of what he was doing while he possessed me. I know the location of where he is going to rip the veil.”

Amaliya angled face closer to Bianca. “Tell me.”

When Bianca did, Amaliya just stared at her for a second, then said, “Fuck me.”





Chapter 25


Cassandra stared at her cellphone with trepidation. Seated at Jeff’s kitchen table, she was trying to call her mother and check in with her as she did every day. They had spoken the day before and everything had seemed fine. Today there was no answer.

The muted winter sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast a reflection over the display, mirroring her face in the dark glass. Cassandra glanced toward the stove where Aimee was putting the finishing touches on a spell.

“Mom’s not answering,” she said at last.

“Maybe she’s taking a nap,” Aimee answered, casting a reassuring look at her girlfriend.

Setting the phone down, Cassandra stared at it. “Maybe. But it feels weird.”

“It’s because we got hardly any sleep and everything that happened last night was...” Aimee hesitated, searching for the right word.

“Insane.”

“Exactly.”

Cassandra gestured toward the concoction on the stove that was tossing flecks of magic into the air. “Is that going to work?”

“We’ll see. It’s hard working around the dark magic, but I believe I figured something out.”

Aimee shoved her long hair back from her face and peered into the cauldron. The true witch had faced some difficult challenges when it came to magic in the last few months, but had adapted. Cassandra was immensely proud of her girlfriend. She loved Aimee with all her heart and soul for a myriad of reasons. Her feelings crawled out of her heart and choked her with emotion. Sliding out of the chair, Cassandra drifted to Aimee’s side.

As always, the magic smelled like all the delicious things in life and it permeated Aimee’s skin and hair. Sidling up behind the witch, she wrapped an arm about Aimee’s waist and rested her chin against her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“It’s all going to be okay, Cass,” Aimee assured her, leaning back into the embrace.

“My father looked so sad.” Cassandra sighed wistfully. “I wanted to make him feel better, but I didn’t know what to do.”

“You showed him that you love him. It meant a lot to him. I could tell.” Aimee’s lips were soft against Cassandra’s cheek.

“You’re so much more perceptive than I am. I always feel so weird around him. Like I don’t know how to act.” Cassandra hadn’t been raised to hate Cian, but his absence in her life was felt throughout her childhood. Finally having a father in her life was odd and sometimes a little overwhelming.

“Cian adores you. I don’t think you could do anything to make him not like you.” Aimee dipped a heavy pewter cup into the magical potion and set it on the counter to cool.

“Oh, I’m sure I could think of something,” Cassandra joked with a playful grin. Immediately, the notion that if she ever wanted him to hate her all she’d have to do was stake Amaliya shot through her mind. It was a cruel and bothered her that she’d even think of such a thing. At times like this, she wondered if she was more like her vampire parent than she’d like to admit.

“You’re not evil,” Aimee said, poking Cassandra’s stomach. “Stop that.”

“Stop being insightful,” Cassandra said with a pout.

Aimee lovingly kissed the frown away. “None of that.”