Pretty When She Dies (Pretty When She Dies #1)(80)

Let him watch, she thought bitterly. Let him watch.

Gripping Cian tight inside of her, she bit hard into his throat again and pushed them both over the edge. His nails bit into her ass as he came deep in her and her own nails sliced down his back drawing more blood. Letting his vitae fill her mouth, but not swallowing, she released his flesh.

Slowly, they slid down to the floor together, a tangle of legs and arms.

Cian's tongue lapped up the blood he had spilled as her wounded neck healed and she drew her finger through the blood running down his chest. The sensation of being watched was no longer there and she felt spiteful, yet satisfied.

Cian stared up at the ceiling and let out a shuddering sigh.

“What now?” Amaliya asked softly, almost afraid that he was full of regrets.

He rolled over and opened up the concealed compartment that hid the controls to his sanctuary. Tapping in the code, he looked toward her and gave her a slight smile. The wall behind her slid up and she gave him a suspicious look.

“I want to taste the rest of you,” he said in a low voice that made her legs tremble. He kissed her again and his hands began to undress her.

“Do everything we skipped over the first time.”

Her voice shuddered as she whispered, “Yes, please.”

Easily picking her up, he tossed her onto the bed. As the wall slid down to shroud them in blackness, he crawled between her legs and she moaned with delight.

***

It was close to dawn when The Summoner saw his opportunity. A young woman in jogging clothes slipped out of Cian's building and started down the street holding her car keys. He followed her at a distance, noting her bloodshot eyes and the slight reek of liquor on her breath. She was sobering up and obviously on her way to collect her car. After a short while, she began to jog through the streets and he moved through the shadows silently.

When she reached the empty parking lot, he took note of her rising fear. She had been afraid her car would be gone, either towed or stolen, or damaged in some way. Obviously relieved, she unlocked her car to get in.

“Excuse me,” he said from beside her.

She whirled around, terrified. Her eyes were enormous and she swallowed hard.

“Heather, it's me. Patrick. We met last night at the bar. I was worried about you when you disappeared.”

“I don't remember,” she stuttered.

“We live in the same building? Remember?” He held up his hand and forced her mind to see a key card to match her own.

She leaned forward slightly to see a card with his picture on it and apartment number. Her shoulders began to relax. “Oh, yeah.”

“I just moved here from France, remember? I'm so sorry I startled you. I've had a very late night myself and I was just walking back when I saw you. I was over at IHOP sobering up. You know how cabs are at this time of the night.” He smiled at her gently.

“Oh,” she rubbed her brow, and studied him, obviously trying to remember him. “Yeah. I know about cabs. I know it's stupid to drive when I live so close by, but with high heels on and all.” She floundered and looked nervous.

He could easily force her to have a false memory, but he enjoyed toying with people and seeing them trying to rationalize his actions into their world view.

“Well, anyway, I'm glad you are okay. I'll see you around.” He turned to walk on, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets.

“Oh, well, Patrick, why don't you ride back with me?”

She motioned to her car and glanced toward the horizon. It was slowly growing light and he knew from his many years of life that humans found the sun a comforting signet.

“That would be very kind of you,” he answered and slowly walked around the car. He settled in as she pulled the seatbelt over her lap and chest.

“I had a good time last night, but I definitely drank too much,” she said as she turned on the car.

He knew she was working up to apologizing for not remembering him.

“I'm afraid I did too. I went to IHOP for three hours trying to sober up. I barely remembered your name.” He gave her a charming smile.

She laughed with relief. “I really don't remember you either. I guess because we don't live on the same floor I haven't seen you before.”

“I'm sure we'll see more of each other now,” he assured her.

The tiny sports car zipped up the streets as she made her way back to the apartment building in a roundabout way forced by all the one way street signs.

“That would be cool. I was thinking of doing a barbecue for some people in the building,” she said, and turned onto the ramp leading into the parking garage.

“That sounds quite lovely,” The Summoner decided. “I do enjoy socializing.”

She quickly swiped her card and the gate slowly lifted. The little car zipped up the ramp and she maneuvered to the correct level. “Me, too. I mean, hell, you're only young once. Might as well enjoy it.” She turned the wheel and the car slid easily into her parking slot.

Climbing out of the car, The Summoner could feel the exquisite pleasure of the hunt ratcheting up. The pretty girl with her swinging blond hair and firm body came around the car and headed toward the elevator.

“I'm kinda glad you were walking back. Kinda needed a second set of eyes. God, the cops are so cracking down on people driving drunk.”