Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2)(71)

Pete and Innocente watched Ethan stride toward Sergio, gingerly maneuvering around the heaps of dirt. In one hand he was cradling something. Reaching downward with his other hand, Ethan stilled Sergio's movements with a touch to his shoulder. Motioning for the shovel, Ethan stood on the other side of the open grave. Sergio handed up the tool and craned his head to see what Ethan was holding in his hand. Pete took a few steps forward, excitement filling him.

“I think Ethan found something!”

“Oh, thank God. I'm so ready to leave,” Innocente said with relief.

Pete started toward Ethan and Sergio, thrilled that they had finally accomplished the first step in returning Amaliya to mortal. He was only a few feet from the fence lining the graveyard when Ethan flung whatever was in his hand in Sergio's face. Motes of a powdery substance danced in the light cast by the lantern as Sergio was engulfed in a small cloud. Sergio gasped, swayed, then collapsed, falling out of sight.

“Sergio!” Innocente cried out.

“Ethan!” Pete shouted at the same time, darting forward.

Standing, Ethan yanked off a glove Pete hadn't realized he was wearing and tossed it aside. At the same exact moment a woman stepped into the light. Her skin was glossy dark and her hair was twisted into spirals around her head. Clad in jeans, a maroon blouse, and a lightweight leather jacket, she was an imposing figure. Pete stumbled to a halt as her eyes flashed in the light, red fires in their depths. Out of the darkness, a massive man with a shaved head wearing an immaculate gray suit escorted a delicate young woman with white blond hair clad in a white lace dress.

“Pete, Pete,” Innocente hissed from the truck.

Pete backed away from the trio that he knew instinctively were not human.

The woman's eyes darted toward Pete and her shapely dark lips smirked. “I see you have brought what I requested.”

It took a second for Pete to realize she was talking to Ethan.

“Yep.” Ethan motioned toward the truck. “The blood of a mother, and the heart of a lover. Easy as pie.”

“And the ritual will restore her to mortal, correct?” the woman asked.

“Absolutely,” Ethan assured the woman.

“And once she's mortal, we can kill her.” The woman laughed with delight. Directing her gaze toward Pete, she said, “How does that sound to you, lover boy?”

Pete shifted around on his heel and raced toward the truck. Innocente had already shut her door and was waiting for him. Sprinting around the front of the pickup, Pete's heart thudded in his chest with sheer terror. His hand snagged the latch and yanked the door open. He scrambled into the thick darkness of the cab and slammed the door shut.

“Where are the keys?” he asked, grabbing at the ignition and finding it empty.

“I...” Innocente faltered. “They were there!”

Ducking down, Pete felt around on the floor.

Beside him, Innocente clasped a handful of rosaries.

A loud bang on the hood made Pete start, hitting his head on the steering wheel. Clutching the back of his head, he sat up to see Ethan standing in front of the vehicle. The keys to the truck dangled in his fingers.

“Shit,” Pete gasped.

“This is not good,” Innocente whispered, clutching her rosaries to her chest.

Ethan flicked back his duster and drew a wicked-looking silver revolver. “Now, I suggest the both of you get out of the truck.”





Chapter 23


“Fuck me,” Amaliya whispered in disbelief.

“Oh, shit,” Eduardo said, then roared with laughter.

“I think you may want to sit down,” Benchley advised Cian.

Instead, Cian took a step toward Cassandra, studying every feature of her face. It was undeniable that she was the perfect mix of her mother and himself. “You’re mine.”

“That’s why I’m a dhamphir,” Cassandra agreed. “The whole half-vampire, half-mortal thing.”

The emotions churning inside of Cian were difficult to separate and he had trouble focusing. A part of his nature hissed at him to kill the dhamphir, one of the most dangerous enemies of the vampires. Yet another part of him wanted to enfold the woman in his arms. Standing near her, he could feel that she was his, her blood answering his power. Even her penetrating gaze echoed his own. Slowly, he extended his hand to her.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said at last.

Cassandra made a show of sheathing the stake in her boot before taking his hand. Her grip was firm and strong. “This really wasn’t the way I planned to meet you. I had no intention of showing up all, ‘Hi, Dad, I’m a dhamphir and a lesbian, howya doin’.”

Cian’s eyes flicked to Aimee, then back to Cassandra. The defiant looks on their faces and stiff posture was a clear indication that they were ready for a fight with him. He deliberately took a step backward and lowered his hands.

“I’m glad you’re not alone,” he said at last, and meant it.

Cassandra lifted an eyebrow and exchanged a quick glance with her girlfriend. “Not that I need your approval for my existence…”

“Of course, not.”

“You have a kid, Cian,” Amaliya said at last, interrupting. Her grin was a mixture of surprise and amusement. “How can you have a kid?”

“Dhamphirs are rare, but they sometimes happen,” Cian answered. “No one knows why they are sometimes conceived.”