Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2)(78)

Aimee had warned them that she would be completely drained after raising the portal. The young woman who looked strikingly similar to Cian anxiously checked the witch's pulse.

“She's okay....just knocked out,” Cassandra said in relief.

“Let me get her,” Cian said, and easily lifted Aimee into his arms.

“She needs water and protein,” Alexia said.

“Aimee, baby, wake up,” Cassandra called out, keeping pace with Cian as he carried Aimee to the gas station across the street.

“That's Ethan's,” Benchley said, pointing to the truck parked in front of the hotel.

“A reason to avoid it,” Eduardo decided.

Cian kicked open the door to the gas station and carried Aimee inside. Alexia scrambled ahead, clutching the bag Cassandra had given her earlier. Benchley, looking a bit green still, stood near the doorway, his pistol in his hands.

“I smell vampires,” Eduardo informed them, squatting before the door.

Amaliya pointed at her and Cian.

“No, other ones. And they smell worse than you two.”

Rolling her eyes, Amaliya rushed to help Alexia. The hunter removed a yoga mat from the bag that would have to do for a bed while Amaliya cleared some space on the floor. Once it was unrolled, Cian gently laid Aimee upon it.

Cassandra hovered over them, watching fretfully. Amaliya felt bad for her. She knew how she’d felt when she had witnessed Cian in a helpless state. Alexia patted the witch's cheeks, trying to rouse her.

“Wake up, babe,” Cass called out not too loudly.

Cian rose to his feet and headed toward the door. “We need to go, Cassandra.”

“I got her,” Alexia assured Cassandra. “I will take care of her.” The bag next to her was filled with protein bars, water, and weapons. Aimee set a shotgun at her side. “I’ve got blessed bullets.”

“I will keep them covered,” Benchley promised from his location near the door.

Cassandra nodded mutely, then scooted past Cian to fall to her knees beside Aimee. Stroking her girlfriend's hair, she leaned over to kiss her on the lips. “I'll be back, Aims.”

Amaliya looked away, feeling like she was intruding on the moment. She saw Cian also direct his attention elsewhere.

“She reminds me of you,” Amaliya confessed.

“Me too.” Cian gave her a slight smile.

Cassandra pushed past them. “Let's go.” Blades of silver glittered in her hands.

They were halfway across the street when Eduardo sniffed loudly, obviously catching a scent. Falling to his hands, he loped across the street reminding Amaliya of a dog. They tailed the coyote to the hotel. The old building held many bad memories for Amaliya, but she trusted Eduardo not to place them in a bad situation.

“Fresh kill,” Eduardo said around the many sharp teeth in his mouth as he looked back at them.

They found the body shoved into the bushes. It was a tall muscular man clad in a long duster. His head was nearly twisted off his body.

Cassandra drew in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Ethan,” she said.

Amaliya observed the truck for a second, then averted her gaze. Silver crosses imbedded into the rims and the doors pulsed in the darkness, hurting her eyes. “He almost made it.”

“This is what happens when you play with the wrong people,” Cass decided.

“We need to get to the graveyard,” Amaliya said urgently. The thought of her cousin or her grandmother suffering such a fate made her sick.

“Agreed.” Cian’s hand brushed hers lightly, his eyes locking with hers. “But we need to be cautious.”

Amaliya couldn't help but look at the broken body of Ethan Logan one last time. “I can't make any promises if they’ve hurt my family.”

Cian nodded in understanding.

The four of them broke into a run.



*



Samantha found it hard to walk through the thick woods behind the cemetery. The dry grass hid gnarled roots, deep dips in the forest floor, and broken branches. Without a flashlight or moonlight to brighten her path, she had to feel her way through the darkness.

Even though she was determined to be a bad ass vampire-kicking chick, tears were streaming down her face. She knew that Innocente was most likely dead, but she couldn't just let the older woman die alone if she was gravely injured.

Scratches covered her hands and face. She was also limping, since a root had sent her tumbling earlier. It was increasingly difficult to see the deeper into the woods she wandered. She wasn't even certain if she was headed in the right direction anymore.

A branch snapped against her shin and she strangled a cry in her throat. She didn’t want any of the dangerous creatures in the graveyard to hear her. Whimpering, she leaned against a tree.

If only she could see...

Samantha widened her eyes.

Wasn’t she a phasmagnus? Maybe someone could guide her. Mentally dropping her defenses, she gingerly searched for a ghost with her newfound powers. In her mind, she saw it like a controlled wave, weaving in and out around the tree trunks seeking out any spectral remains.

“Here I am,” a voice said.

The gentle touch of a hand rested on her shoulder. Samantha shot a frightened look over her shoulder. To her relief a tall, kindly-looking man with blond hair and blue eyes was gazing at her. He seemed untouched by the night, standing out sharply against the darkness.