Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(56)

“See,” Cian said with a smug look.

“That's too easy,” she whispered back.

“You can't see yourself,” Cian said with a wink.

The tall man with the tattoos and dangerous vibe sidled up to the bar next to her and smiled at her flirtatiously. “You look familiar.”

“I'm not,” she said with a wicked smile. ”But we can change that.”

She heard Cian chuckling behind her and ignored him.

Small talk with band guys she could do all night. It wasn't hard. She had hung out in the scene long enough to pick up on what they liked to talk about. As the band thrashed on the stage and their small crowd of fans pumped their fists in the air, she leaned into her prey and drew him in with her sly looks and vampire powers.

After around fifteen minutes, Cian tapped her shoulder.

“Excuse me. My brother needs something.” She turned to Cian and whispered in an annoyed voice, “What?”



“You're here to bite him. Not date him. Get him into the bathroom.”

Cian's eyes were intense.

Sticking her tongue out, she turned back to the guy, who's name was Brant, and hooked her hand into his. “Come with me,” she said and pulled him along behind her. He came willingly, just like she knew he would.

Weaving through the throng of people, she aimed for the bathroom.

Now that she was so close to feeding, she could feel that dark need rising and flowing out of her. It seemed as if others knew this as they pulled away from her subconsciously, letting her pass.

The door to the woman's bathroom opened just as she neared it. Two girls came out, laughing, their lipstick fresh and glossy and their hair brushed and gleaming. Watching them pass, she shoved Brant into the room and up against the wall. As she expected, Cian slipped in behind her and locked the door.

“Okay, this is a little too weird. Your brother is going to watch?” Brant looked ready to bolt.

Cian folded his arms and leaned on the wall across from them.

“Ignore him. Look at me.” She heard her power in her voice and felt it swirling out of her.

Brant's eyes turned to her and she saw his pupils dilate as she hooked him firmly under her influence. She ran her tongue over her sharpening fangs as she pushed his legs apart and pulled him down toward her. He was tall so she had to strain, but he came willing into her embrace. Licking her fangs, she pulled his thick heavy hair back and ran her tongue over his furry throat. His shudder ignited her hunger even more and she drove her teeth into his neck.

His blood was hot and delicious and she moaned with pleasure as she drank it in with huge swallows. Her arms gripped the large man even more tightly as she pulled his blood into her. She felt it renewing her body and her heart began to pump a little more quickly.



Cian's body pressed up against hers from behind and he slid his hand up under her arm and up to cup her chin. “Stop.”

She growled at him and tried to keep feeding, but his fingers slid between her lips and the flesh of her victim. He said again, “Lick his wound and stop.”

Cian's strength of will pushed down on her and she realized he was right. Her desire to drain her prey was strong and she ran her tongue over the wound. Licking the blood away, she drew back as the holes closed up into two tiny circles. Brant's eyes were glossy and half-closed with bliss.

“Drink only a little from each one,” Cian whispered as he turned her around. “Only enough to sate the first bite of the hunger.” Taking her face between his hands, he licked the blood off the corner of her mouth. “Understand.”

Nodding, she struggled to keep her hunger abated. She did want to drain the tall man completely dry. It was a terrible need, but she resisted it.

“Now, let him go. Release him, but place in his mind a wonderful thought of a nice time with you. But make your face hazy in his memory...”

Amaliya turned back to Brant and ran her hand gently down the side of his face. As she had with Pete, she felt herself drawing up her power from the dark place inside of her and pressing it into him.

Concentrating, she created a memory of a hot little interlude in the bathroom, but obscured her own face.

“Now go to the bar,” she whispered.



Brant slid from her grasp, let himself out, and the door shut behind him. Cian quickly locked it and turned to her.

“I f*cked up.”

“It takes practice.”

Ignoring the smelly toilet and the mirror that would refuse to show her reflection, she leaned against the graffiti covered wall, and sighed.

“Now I want more.”

“You need to feed every night.” Cian said softly. “But a little at a time.”

She nodded.

“Okay. Let's try this again.”

Amaliya licked her lips and smoothed her hair a bit. “Okay. Let's go.”

For the next three hours, she maneuvered through the ever changing crowd, chatting, laughing, partying, and finding three more victims.

Each time, Cian followed her into the bathroom and watched over her as she fed. By the third victim, she was able to pull away without his assistance.

Her last prey, a hot girl, which she saw surprised Cian, was just a small nibble in comparison to the droughts she had taken from Brant.

Even as the girl clung to her, rubbing her body up and down Amaliya's, she had been able to stop drinking and place a wonderfully erotic memory into the woman's thoughts.