Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(54)

He shrugged slightly. “I like switching up my look.”

“Part of living so long?”

“Yep. Tonight, you will learn how to feed off of several different people, but not take too much. You need to learn not to kill-”

She started to open her mouth to protest.

“-or drink so much they end up hospitalized.”



She shut her mouth and gave him an annoyed look.

“The trick of surviving is not to be discovered.” His smile grew condescending. “You know, having your entire family know what you are. That sort of thing.”

“Only my grandmother and-” She stopped herself.

He shook his head and took her arm. “C'mon. Let's get this over with before you put out a press release that you're here.”

“Shut up,” she said, and pulled her arm away.

“We'll be back,” Cian called out as they headed into the hall.

The patter of tiny flip flopped feet let her know that Samantha was coming. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she looked annoyed as Samantha flung herself onto Cian and kissed him. She wasn't jealous of Samantha, but she was the sort of girl who had always looked upon Amaliya as something odd to be avoided. It was obvious that Samantha felt threatened by her. Amaliya was determined to ignore and forget what had happened between her and Cian. It had to be a weird vampire thing. He was not her type. He was short. And he looked too normal.

She had woken up determined to learn what she could from him and then go off and find her own hot Rob Zombie lookalike. Or a young Ozzy Osbourne clone. That would be nice. Or maybe both.

“Let's go,” Cian said, taking her arm again and opening the door for her.

They entered a small foyer that had two sets of elevator doors. A long window showed a great view of South Austin and she looked at the reflection of the empty hallway with remorse. She hated not knowing what she looked like. She wondered if her makeup looked okay.

“I just realized I have no idea where I am. Since you kidnapped me,”

she said a bit tartly.



“I helped you,” Cian corrected her, and stepped into the elevator as the doors opened.

Rolling her eyes, she stepped in with him. They were both silent on the way down. It was obvious that they were both determined to pretend that the events of the night before had not happened.

She supposed that a vampire as old as Cian may have some sort of weird need to try to have a normal life, but she didn't get it. She was looking forward to figuring out this vampire stuff, then carving a life out for herself far away from all this crap with The Summoner. Yeah, he was following her, but she was boring. Maybe he would just grow tired of her and leave her be.

Even she knew that was too stupid to even hope. Therefore, she was going to have to keep running.

The doors opened on a large, boring lobby with treated cement floors and brick walls. They headed to the doors that opened out onto the street and Amaliya glanced toward the security guard. The man barely looked at her before returning his gaze to the Austin American Statesman newspaper he was reading.

Cian shoved the door open for her and she walked outside into the humid spring air. They were close to Town Lake and it made the air muggy. It took her a moment to figure out where they were located, but she quickly recognized a few landmarks and realized they were close to the club scene.

“Where are we going?”

“Headhunters,” Cian answered. “Seems like your kinda place.”

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. “Yeah, okay, fine. I used to hang out there on occasion.”

“I figured that. Live bands. Sweaty guys with long hair and tattoos.”



“Shut up,” she said with exasperation. But she was pleased in a way that he had her pegged. Of course, in some ways she was a stereotype, but she didn't care. She had tried on a lot of looks and personas when she came to Austin as a student. It was when hanging out with the metalheads that she finally felt accepted. Plus she loved metal, so it worked out just fine. She had even played drums for a few bands and slept with the lead singers, of course.

He laughed and said, “Eh, you just look like the girl who'd be hanging out there and dancing all sexy to music that sounds like just noise to me.”

“Yeah? And how would you know?”

“I've got to spread my hunting around,” he answered. “I sometimes have a bit of a wild metal diva to entertain myself.”

They reached 6th Street and headed down the sidewalk that was slowly growing crowded. Thursday night was much busier than Wednesday and lots of college students were out and about. Strolling past the clubs that were just gearing up for the long night, the various tattoo parlors and tourist trap stores, they fell into an easy pace with each other.

“Um, wild metal divas, huh? Is that what you call us?”

He shrugged. “Goth girls are tasty, too.”

“Go to the hip hop club and grind on girls, too?”

Giving her a surprisingly warm smile, he said, “Why, yes I do.”

“You really are an equal opportunity guy.”

“Maybe.”

“Does Samantha go with you?”

“No. No. I hunt alone. Except for tonight. It's a personal thing. It's just you and your prey and the thrill of the hunt.”

“But aren't you kinda domesticated now that you live in your own barn?”