Pretty When They Collide (Pretty When She Dies 0.5)(27)

“Gonna join the gang finally?” Jeff asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’ll let your dad and his cronies hunt the monsters.”

Jeff shrugged nonchalantly. “We could use you.”

“Ah, he dragged you in, huh?”

“It’s kind of my legacy. Getting your leg torn off by a vampire when you’re a kid kinda makes you want to get rid of the baddies.”

Cassandra felt a little disappointed that Jeff was entering his father’s dangerous world, but at the same time couldn’t blame him. She had beat up more than one kid for making fun of his prosthetic leg when they had been at camp or on vacation. The vampire who had ripped it off was now dead, but she could understand how Jeff would want to make sure no one else suffered his fate.

“I’m just not on board with the whole killing the monsters thing. You know, since I’m a monster.”

“You’re a good monster though,” Jeff insisted.

She shrugged in response. With the blood of an innocent human singing through her veins it was hard not to feel a little like a bad guy. “So, can I talk to your dad?”

“Sure, sure.” Jeff swiveled around in the chair and yelled for his dad.

Cassandra could see one of the professor’s many cats walking across the bookcases in the background. The Summerfields’ Victorian was a little on the shabby side, but she always liked the library that the professor used as a study.

Twisting back around, Jeff said, “So what are you up to then? If you’re not joining up?”

“I’m going to go save a damsel in distress,” Cassandra responded truthfully.

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

Jeff shook his head, amused. “You and the women.”

“You’re just all mopey because I get all the girls,” Cassandra teased.

Chewing more cereal, Jeff shrugged, blushing. “Well, yeah. You have that whole bad girl vibe going on and I’m the dweeb, you girlfriend stealer.”

“Oh my gawd, will you ever let me live that down? I did not mean to steal your girlfriend at camp that year! When will you drop it?”

Leaning toward the webcam, Jeff glowered playfully and said, “Never!”

Cassandra stuck out her tongue.

“Jeff, scoot on out of my chair,” a deep voice with a very thick Texan accent ordered.

“See you later, Wonder Woman,” Jeff said, then moved off-screen.

Dr. Summerfield’s bulging tummy hidden by his wrinkled white shirt came into view, then he settled into the chair his son had abandoned. He looked the same as she remembered him; nice open face, a receding hairline of snow white hair, and large-rimmed glasses tucked over his piercing blue eyes. “Cassandra,” he drawled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your pretty face?”

“Hey, Doc. I need your help on something,” she answered. Seeing the professor made her miss him all the more. His role in her life had been that of a kindly, supportive uncle. Throughout her childhood he had made certain that she and her mother were well-provided for and safe from the dangerous world of Cassandra’s father.

“Is this for one of your jobs?” The professor frowned. He did not approve of her side profession.

“Actually, it is.” She quickly gave him the lowdown, explaining everything she had encountered since the night in Vegas.

“A full-blooded witch is what you’re talking about,” Dr. Summerfield said, his brow slightly furrowing. “Those are rare.”

“She told me it’s a trap, but she’s bonded to the vampire. So if she’s enslaved to him, is she luring me in? Lying? For him?” Cassandra chewed on her bottom lip worriedly. Her gut told her that Aimee was being truthful, but Cassandra knew she was a sucker for a beautiful face. Felicity was a prime example of that.

“Give me one moment.” The professor vacated his chair and the sounds of him puttering around his library sizzled through the computer speakers.

Gnawing on her thumbnail, Cassandra waited anxiously. Her emotions were a tangled mix. Obviously, if she went to West Texas she would be going into a trap, but she couldn’t ignore Aimee’s plea if it was sincere.

Huffing a little, Dr. Summerfield settled into his creaky chair with a very old-looking book clasped in his veiny hands. “Okay, according to this account, vampires have been attempting to enslave witches for thousands of years, but have found it very difficult to actually accomplish for an extended period of time. There have been multiple attempted purges of the full-blood witches. Vampires fear them because they cannot control them.”

“So Aimee is not enslaved to the vampire?” Cassandra frowned at the thought. The woman’s distress had felt genuine in the dream, but then again, it had been just a dream.

“Well, she might be. Vampires apparently can enslave a witch, but it’s not on the same level they can enslave a human. Once a vampire feeds a human its blood a few times, that human will do anything for the vampire. The human feels an intense, passionate love for the vampire.” Dr. Summerfield read a few more passages, turning a page. “Witches, though, are not fully captivated. Though the bond forces them to obey, they don’t ever feel the euphoric love the humans do. Therefore, witches were known to find ways around the blood bond to betray their vampire masters and destroy them.”

“Such as contacting a dhamphir in a dream and asking her to go help you kill your vampire master.” Cassandra rubbed her face vigorously and groaned. “So she’s legit, and I’m really doing this.”