Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(69)

“Then let them both go and be who you truly are,” Roberto said in a soft voice.

Cian drew closer to Roberto and his eyes flashed red. “Roberto, you have been at my side nearly one hundred years. If there is anything you should know about me is that I do what I please and what I believe is right.”

“And sometimes you are wrong.”

“Where is she?” Cian smashed his fist down on the counter near Roberto's hands and the counter cracked and the edge crumbled.

Slowly, Roberto drew his hands back and pulled himself up even straighter. “You cannot set right what is already wrong. Let her go.

Remember that you have won your own battle with The Summoner and let her do the same.”

“Roberto, I will not ask you again. Where is she?” Cian looked at his old friend with despair and frustration. He could not believe that his own servant would defy him, but yet again, for years, it had only been him and Roberto, struggling to carve out a life for themselves. They had been complimentary partners in crime for almost a century, but it was now obvious that they were at a crossroads.

“San Antonio,” Roberto said finally.

“You dumped her in Santos' territory?” Cian was shocked. “Do you realize what he will do to her?”

“If she's smart, she'll move on before he finds her.”

“This is Amaliya we are talking about,” Cian snapped, and headed toward his phone.

“Let her go,” Roberto said once more. “Let her go. Or she will ruin you.”

Cian snatched up the phone and dialed. Pushing his shoulder length hair out of his face, he frowned deeply. His beard and hair were now the same length as when he had died. It never took more than a few days for his appearance to revert.

Santos, the Master Vampire of San Antonio, did not answer his private cellphone. Instead a feisty Mariachi piece played and ended with a loud whoop, then the beep sounded.

“Santos, this is Cian. One of my cabal may be in your city. She's a fledgling and not very clever. I will retrieve her if this is approved by you. Please call me back so we can discuss terms.”

He hung up and stared at the phone. Resisting the urge to throw it or crush it, he set it down on his desk.

“She'll be the end of you,” Roberto predicted.

“Then so be it,” Cian said.

He turned and walked toward the stairs. He would get ready and wait for Santos to respond. If she was lucky, Amaliya would not be found by Santos' people. But if she was unlucky, he had to be fully fed and ready to heal her.

“Cian,” Roberto's voice said from behind him.

Cian turned as he reached the first step and saw Roberto lingering near the dining room table.

“I did it because I love you.”

“I know,” Cian said softly, and he walked upstairs feeling the heavy, sad weight of Roberto's bitter gaze.

***

Amaliya slowly strode along the crowded walk that wound around the entire Riverwalk area below street level in downtown San Antonio.



Since it was Friday night, people were everywhere: heading into clubs, strolling, shopping, and sitting down to dinner along the edge of the river. The atmosphere was exciting and festive.

Children darted around her as they dashed about excitedly. Swerving around couples walking hand in hand, she almost felt human and it felt great. All she needed to do was get her bearings, figure out where she was going, and get back on the road.

At least the bastard had added another two thousand dollars to her stash of cash. Going away money, she assumed. It should last her a bit longer.

She was feeling better now and enjoyed the energy of the people around her. She had fed off of three different females that had come alone into the restroom. Luckily, she had been lurking in a restroom tucked away from the main walkway and did not have to worry about being interrupted.

She was passing one of the many stairways that led up to the street level when she was snagged from behind. Two massive Mexicans grabbed her arms as another snatched away her bag.

“Do not f*ck with me boys,” she warned, and tried to wrench free.



They didn't budge and their grip remained secure. Slowly, she realized they were not human.

Dammit.

“Um. Hi?”

“Let's go,” one of them said with a grim smile.

“Santos is going to love this one,” the smaller guy with the super short hair decided. “Yeah. This one will be fun.”

“Look, I'm just passing through and-”

“No vampire just passes through nowhere. You're in our territory now, puta. Better hope Santos is in a good mood.”

The big guy took a firm hold of her as if she was his girlfriend, his huge arm slung over her shoulders.

Amaliya tried to break free one more time, but she was held securely in place against the beefy man.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered and was escorted away into the night.





Chapter Eighteen


Amaliya kicked the back of the car seat as hard as she could every few seconds and screamed at the top of her lungs. Trapped in the trunk of a small sports car, she felt claustrophobic and pissed off. The brutes had fastened her hands and feet together with plastic handcuffs.

They had actually left her duffel bag, still smelling of garbage, in the trunk with her. The reek was getting to her.