Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2)(5)

His cellphone buzzed between them.

Nipping his lips, Amaliya tried to keep his hand from sliding into his jean pocket to get his phone.

“No, no, no,” she complained.

He pressed one last hard kiss to her lips, peered at the number curiously, then answered. “May I help you?”

Amaliya frowned as his expression suddenly became quite dangerous.

“Rachon, this is unexpected.” His Irish accent overwhelmed his voice.

Craning her head toward the cellphone, Amaliya listened in.

“Miss me, dear brother?”

The woman’s voice sent shivers through Amaliya’s already aroused body. It was like rich velvet; soft and sensual.

“It’s been a very long time,” Cian said neutrally.

The throaty laughter was amused and a little cruel. “I would have thought you would give me the courtesy of a phone call when our dear little sister murdered our father.”

“You know I had no love for The Summoner, or his ways,” Cian responded tersely.

“This is true. The relationship between father and son is always complicated, isn’t it?”

“He was my creator, not my father.”

Amaliya pressed her hand to Cian’s chest and he glanced at her briefly. He was struggling with his emotions.

Rachon’s laughter was cruel with its amusement. “You never could run far enough away from him.”

“You never tried.”

“Maybe that is why I hold Louisiana in my grasp and you merely have Austin.”

“You turned your entire family and made them your minions so you could rule Louisiana.”

“I freed them from slavery and made them rulers,” Rachon said sharply.

Amaliya smiled. Cian had hit a sore spot.

“We’ve both done what we had to in order to survive, haven’t we, Rachon?”

“I will give you that.” There was a pause in her voice. “I haven’t called to argue.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To visit you,” Rachon answered.

Cian lifted an eyebrow as Amaliya raised both of hers.

“I see. May I ask why?”

“I want to see our sister. I want to see where our father died. And I want to make a pact with you. I know you have Santos and Etzli stalking your borders. Word is that they are trying to make pacts with Courtney, the new Master in Dallas and Nicole from Houston. You need me.”

Frowning, Cian hooked his arm around Amaliya’s shoulders and pulled her along with him as he headed toward his car. “I’m not certain-”

“You need me, Cian. We both know it. The only thing holding off Santos is the baby necromancer. He was terrified of The Summoner and that is why he left you alone before. Now there is your new pet. Santos wants her. The only reason he hasn’t attacked is because he still doesn’t know what she can or can’t do. How much longer do you think the threat of her power will hold him off?”

Unlocking the car, Cian glanced up and down the street warily.

Amaliya didn’t sense anything, but she wasn’t as powerful as Cian. Nervously, she slid into the passenger seat as he took his place behind the wheel.

“Cian?” Rachon’s voice sounded small and distant now that Amaliya wasn’t snuggled into Cian’s arms.

“What do you know?” Cian asked tersely.

“People talk to me. Powerful people. Sometimes they let things slip.”

Cian slid into the car, his brow deeply furrowed. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Where?”

“That I don’t know.”

“We’ll talk later,” Cian said shortly. He killed the call and shoved his phone into his jeans. “I’ll need you to summon the dead over distance.”

“What?”

“Can you do it?” His voice was hard and demanding.

Amaliya bit her bottom lip, glancing toward the graveyard. “Yes. I bled in the graveyard tonight. I can do it.”

“We’re going to be attacked. Most likely close to home. They won’t attack here near the graveyard.”

“Are we being watched?” Amaliya knew enough not to look around, but remain casual.

“Yes. Probably by a human servant. They’re harder to sense.” Cian quickly pulled away from the graveyard, speeding down the street.

“Fuckin’ great,” Amaliya muttered. She tried not to panic as she watched the darkened streets of Austin stream past the window.

“We should have relocated to another part of the city. I usually move once a year, but I didn’t want to uproot you so swiftly.”

Cian’s car sped over the rolling hills along streets lined with old houses and mom and pop businesses toward the shining glory of downtown Austin. The neighborhood was mostly populated by a large section of the black and Hispanic population of the city and was much older and poorer. In recent years it had started to undergo a renewal as the middle class bought up the old houses and restored them. College students also made their homes in the small cottage style homes. The occasional mini-mansion lurked on quiet, tree-lined roads, and a few Victorians were hidden jewels in the neighborhood.

When Amaliya had been human and attended the University of Texas for one year, she had liked hanging out on the east side. It had small dives that served the best food in town and she had often chilled on the front porches of the rented homes of friends. Watching the darkened houses slid by, Amaliya wondered what it was like to sleep during the night, safe in the thought that monsters didn’t exist. She couldn’t remember what it felt like to be so innocent and human.