Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(25)

“Well, you know, man, they were in a secret room. That's just weird,”

a student was saying to a reporter.

“Did you know anyone who was killed?”

“No, no, but that one guy was like the football star. We're gonna lose all the games next season, that's for sure.”

“Did you hear rumors about a cult being on campus?”

“Satanists are everywhere, man. I saw it at my church camp. They had a video,” the guy said confidently.

Amaliya rolled her eyes.

“There is still no official word on the cause of death, but many speculate that this could have been a ritual killing. Whether or not the deceased were willing participants, remains to be determined.

Sources close to the investigation say that the room held evidence of-”

the female reporter hesitated “evidence of an orgy and drug use. The authorities and school officials ask that students call in to the number on the screen. They are still trying to estimate how many students may still be missing. As stated earlier, there is a report of an unmarked grave being discovered in the forest behind the school. The grave held the body of a young woman that has yet to be identified. Authorities are now searching the woods as a report of yet another grave being discovered has surfaced. This one was supposedly empty.”

“He killed another girl?” Amaliya blinked. “Shit.”

She rolled onto her back and killed the sound. So far she was safe from suspicion. The satanic cult theory would take awhile to disprove and she knew that people would cling to it like crazy. Satanists were easier to believe in than vampires. Slowly, she worked her socks off her feet using her toes as she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. She almost felt angry and jealous that the Professor had killed another girl and just not her. She wondered why the other girl hadn't changed like she had.

Probably her bad luck...again.

“Well, f*ck it,” she muttered, and slid off the bed. Shoving her jeans down over her hips, she pulled the covers down on the second queen size bed in the room. Dancing her way out of her pant legs, she collapsed on the bed and stared at her toes. Her toe nails were looking wicked sharp, too.

Grabbing her toiletry bag, she headed over to the vanity to brush her teeth and wash her face. Maybe both things were totally unnecessary now, but she felt the need to do something normal. She was leaning over the sink, scrubbing away when she heard the door open behind her. Whirling around, she was startled to see Rob standing in the doorway staring at her with his usual blank look. In utter silence, he shut the door and walked over and sat down on the bed she had turned down. Spitting out the toothpaste and quickly rinsing out her mouth, she tried to process his strange appearance in the room.

“Uh, Rob? What are you doing here?”

Sitting with his hands on his knees, he turned his head and looked at her calmly. “I paid for the room. They gave me a card.”

“Yeah, but why are you here?” She put her hands on her hips and tried not to be intimidated by the fact she was standing in her pink and black bikini underwear and AC/DC tank.

He slowly smiled. “You're a nice girl.”

She snorted slightly, and shook her head. “Okay, maybe, but why the hell are you in my hotel room?”

Shifting his massive weight, he adjusted himself and gave her a surprisingly sly expression. “You know.”



“Aw, f*ck,” she said, and threw up her hands. “My luck so freaking sucks.”

“I think you need to get over here and get to sucking,” Rob said with a sure smile.

“Fuck you.”

“Get to it.”

She flipped him off and walked toward him. “Get out. Now!”

“Not until we're done,” he said firmly. His expression was fading from blank to incredibly forceful.

She moved past him, intending to open the door, and usher him out.

He snagged her wrist, yanked her off her feet, and onto his lap. He was suddenly all over her, his hands creeping under her shirt and down her panties. He was massive and his girth seemed to consume her smaller frame. She began to panic.

“Just don't fight and it will be okay,” he whispered in her ear and licked it.

Her elbow came up and hit him hard in the sternum as her anger flared. To her surprise, he fell back, stunned and gasping. Realizing she had the upper hand, she leaped to her feet and kicked his huge gut hard.

“Do not f*ck with me, *.”

To her surprise, he kicked back, hitting her square in the stomach with his big boot, and knocked her back into the TV. If she had been a breathing mortal, she would have had the wind knocked out of her.

But she wasn't breathing and she wasn't mortal. As he sat up gasping, he reached for her, and she stood with her feet apart.

“I'm warning you,” she said in a low voice.

“Get on your knees,” he snarled, and unzipped his jeans. His face was flushed and angry.



Scowling, she drew her fist back and punched him square in the jaw.

His head rocked back as he let out a startled cry. Reaching down, she grabbed him by his belt buckle, and heaved him off the bed. Despite his massive weight, he came up easily. She whirled him around and reared back her fist. He was choking and foaming at the mouth as he tried to talk. Spitting out a few of his teeth, he reached desperately for her neck. Slamming her fist into his nose, she felt it break, then slide back into his meaty face. He hit the ground with a resounding thunk.