Pretty When She Kills (Pretty When She Dies #2)(82)

“I don't understand.”

“Your magic will help her understand her own,” Innocente insisted. Her form was growing hazy, but her voice was clear. “Amaliya cannot fight The Summoner by herself. She needs you!”

“But he's dead!”

“No, he's still among you. Just in a different form. Amaliya needs you, Samantha.” Innocente bent over to rest her hand on Samantha's head. “You can do it.”

As abruptly as she had appeared, Innocente was gone, along with the other mysterious ghost.

Sitting next to Innocente's body, Samantha wiped her tears with grimy hands. Afraid, but determined, Samantha closed her eyes. “Connected, huh?” With her eyes shut, it was easier for her to feel her own power tucked within her body. It stirred as Samantha mentally probed for any sense of a connection with Amaliya. The harder she concentrated, the clearer she saw in her mind's eye the pulsing power that linked her to the phantoms of the world. Within the miasma of silvery-gray power, she saw a darker thread interwoven with her own.

“There you are,” she whispered.

In her mind, she gripped it tightly, focusing all her energy on that one thread. “Amaliya,” she whispered aloud and in her mind.

There was no answer.

Forcefully directing everything within her on that one dark thread of power, Samantha again called out to Amaliya.

This time, she felt an answer. It was wordless, but she knew it was Amaliya.

“I need to help you,” Samantha said. “I need to help you fight him.”

Fear, rage, and sorrow filled the connection between them, but she could feel Amaliya's power surging through the link.

“Just hold on and I'll be right there,” Samantha said.

The boiling power of Amaliya's necromancy poured through the bond, making Samantha gasp. “I'll be right there, I prom-”

Samantha didn't get out another word for the ground swallowed her and she vanished.





Chapter 26


Amaliya was knocked off her feet as the ground beneath her exploded. Dirt, rocks, and chunks of the headstones hurled through the air. She fell into an empty grave as the dead rose in one great wave. Over two hundred stood before Bianca and Etzli.

Nearby, Cian gathered his daughter into his arms. Cassandra appeared groggy from a head wound, but it was a relief to see her alive. Eduardo stooped low, ears back, teeth bared at the dead. Rachon, surprisingly, was still with them. In her hand was the dagger with which Amaliya had tried to kill Bianca.

Instead of attacking, the dead raised up their hands to Bianca and Etzli while sinking to their knees in supplication to the necromancer and vampire.

“Cian, you and your people stand down and we may let you live,” Etzli said, her black eyes glittering.

Bianca wove her way through the dead, studying their outstretched hands.

“Why are you here?” Cian asked, helping Cassandra to her feet.

“He called to me and I answered,” Etzli answered simply. She was dressed in a black dress that was split to her thighs on both sides. A belt around her hips was graced with daggers made out of bone. Amaliya had never seen her look so much like the blood goddess she claimed to be.

“But you're not his child,” Rachon said in disbelief.

“But I am bound to him by blood,” Etzli responded. “Don't you remember my abduction oh so long ago? He bound me to him and showed me the glory of his ways.”

Climbing to her feet, Amaliya felt hopeless in the face of Bianca's power and Etzli's appearance. If a silver dagger through the heart didn't even faze Bianca, how was she supposed to kill her? And Etzli's power was terrifying on its own. Cian had told her horror stories about what Etzli was capable of.

“Does Santos know?” Cian asked.

“Santos knows what I want him to know,” Etzli answered, shrugging.

Bianca tilted her head toward Amaliya. “Do you know what I want?”

“Your ring,” Amaliya answered.

“Do you know why?”

Amaliya hesitated, then shook her head.

Bianca plucked a golden ring from the palm of a zombie and held it up for all to see. “Here it is.” Slipping it onto her index finger, Bianca crushed the zombie's head. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, she tore it apart, vengeance in her face.

“Not to kill them,” Bianca said, gesturing toward the defiant vampire and his comrades.

“So much for not killing us.” The sarcasm in Cian’s voice made Amaliya slightly smile.

“Who should we kill first?” Etzli asked. “Cian? Rachon? Or their pet dog?”

Eduardo growled, edging toward the Aztec princess.

Amaliya.

Studying the area, Amaliya realized no one had called her aloud. She glanced at Cian, but he was crouched low to the ground, the obsidian blade in one hand, watching their enemies, preparing to strike. Cassandra also had her blades drawn and looked far more alert, though blood still trickled from her brow.

Maybe they could kill Etzli, but how would they kill Bianca?

Again, Amaliya heard her name, but this time she realized it came from within her. Trying to remain alert to her surroundings, Amaliya let her mind sift through her power. The blackness of her necromancy was tangled with the remains of the witch's black magic, both edged with the fiery red of Cian’s powers. But there was something more buried in all the layers. It was silvery and throbbed with power. Mentally grasping it, Amaliya heard Samantha's ardent whisper in her mind.