Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(43)

“I'm not going to kill you.” He rubbed one hand over his short hair, mussing it up. It only seemed spikier and sexier. “Who made you Amaliya?”

She let out a slow, wavering sigh. “His name is Professor Sumner. He was supposed to be this bigwig psychologist from England. It was a big deal that he was teaching a psychology class and I signed up for it immediately. He was so smart and so sexy and I had the stupidest, biggest crush on him. Then one night he asked me out for coffee and I went with him.” Tears seeped down her face and dangled on her chin.

“He killed me.” She wiped at her face with her fingers, smearing it with her bloody tears.

“And woke up buried in the forest?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him at all? Did he speak to you?”

Blushing a little, she nodded. “He came to the room where the orgy was and I had already started to...eat. He blocked the door and wouldn't let anyone out as I killed them. Then he...” She rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. “He took blood from me again. When I woke up he was talking to me. Telling me that I was now a vampire and he was anxious to see if I would survive or something like that.

He wouldn't be helping me, but watching me from a distance. He did give me his coat to cover up, though. But he said that was all the help he would give me.” She slowly dropped her gaze back to Cian. “I think I feel him sometimes. And I get afraid.”

Cian pressed his lips together, then slowly lowered his head, rubbing the top of it again. “I see.”



“I don't know the rules. I don't know what I can or can't do. I don't even know what my powers are! You gotta understand that!”

“I do. I do.” Cian stood up and walked to a nearby window to stare out at the city. “We have the same creator. He said nearly those exact same words to me.”

“So you know who the * is?”

“Yes, I do. Or at least the legend about him,” Cian answered somberly.

Amaliya stood up and walked over to him. “You have to tell me. You can't leave me in the dark. He's stalking my ass.”

Cian looked at her then sighed. “You're right. I will tell you...”

***

Cian stared into the blue-gray eyes of the young vampire and felt a pang of sorrow for her. She was terribly innocent despite her sultry, bad girl look. The fact that she had survived thus far was truly amazing. He was shocked that she wasn't still mad with the hunger, but actually quite lucid. She also seemed to have a good sense of self.



Despite himself, he was kind of liking her.

“Well?” She crossed her arms. “Tell me.”

“Very well. His real name is unknown, but he is called The Summoner. Legend says he is very ancient. A Chaldean necromancer of Sumeria. The story I was told was that he could manipulate the dead and have them do his bidding. He grew more and more powerful and terrified the king, who ordered his death. The king sent an armed regiment to kill The Summoner, but an army of the dead defeated them. And as each of the king's soldiers fell, they rose to defend The 154

Summoner as a dead warrior. The Summoner seemed to have the kingdom in the palm of his hand when a witch cursed him to die. He could not revoke the curse and he began to suffer a great illness. But he had heard of the living dead, those who drink blood to survive and wander the night.”

“This sounds like a bad horror movie,” Amaliya interjected.

“Maybe,” he conceded, and thought Bruce Campbell would be great in it. “But it may be the truth. Anyway, as I was saying, he had heard of vampires. He summoned one with a potent spell. Of course, the legend says it was one of the first vampires in creation, but it doesn't matter who it was. The terribleness of it was that The Summoner managed to capture a vampire and torture it. At last, the vampire revealed how The Summoner could become a vampire.”

“He should have kept his damn mouth shut.”

“Her mouth shut. It was a woman. A beautiful, ancient blood drinking goddess, so the story goes. He made her drink his blood, then sliced her throat and drank hers. And then he died. And when he died, all his dead companions died once more. The vampire screamed for three days and nights and all who dared to approach his haven could hear her. But no one would go in and rescue her. The Summoner rose on the third night, but he had forgotten the restrictions of his new existence.”

“He can't go out in sunlight.”

“Exactly. It took awhile for the King and his advisors to figure it out.

But they began to notice that everyday the dead army vanished from their posts. They finally were brave enough to invade during the day.

The Summoner was nearly burned to death by the invaders and his mortal servants barely managed to escape with him. No one knows what happened to his prisoner. I suppose she was killed.”

“Poor thing. Being stuck with that sadistic sonnobitch her last nights on earth,” Amaliya decided.

“I agree. But the legend says that The Summoner was angered by his limitations. Daylight effectively destroyed all his spells cast by night.

So he learned how to manipulate mankind through other means.”

“The games he plays with our heads,” Amaliya snorted.

“Exactly. A lot of the old vampires blame him for wars and pestilence and all sorts of troubles through the ages, but I think its just The Summoner giving himself credit to make him more terrifying to his own kind. He made me over three hundred years ago and spent a good time torturing me over that time. I am one of the few of his children that is still alive. He slaughters most of us. We're his pawns.