Pretty When They Collide (Pretty When She Dies 0.5)(35)

Aimee hurried over to the controls and activated the door. It silently slid shut and locked.

“What the f*ck was that all about?” Cassandra asked irritably.

Aimee whirled around, flustered. “I think he was hitting on me!”

“I meant the fake spell,” Cassandra answered, stretching out her long body.

“Oh! I wasn’t sure you would catch on! I was so relieved when you did!”

“Well, when the spell did nothing, I figured it was a ruse.” Cassandra shrugged. “And if it was a dud, I figured I could buy myself some time by faking it.”

“I knew you were smart enough to catch on. There wasn’t any way to warn you.”

Flexing her hands, Cassandra winced. “Well, what’s the plan now?”

“I have a spell that I need to activate and drink.” Aimee squatted next to one of the spell bags and drew out a small vial. The second it was in her hand, the bond began to twist inside of her, compelling her to smash it.

Cassandra yanked on the shackles, hissing in pain. “I hate f*cking silver. Ugh. It’s like kryptonite. Mind getting me out of these?”

“Give me a second.” Aimee fretted. The blood bond was fighting her viciously. Tears sprung into her eyes as she stood and paced, trying to resist the urge to break the spell and flee to Frank’s side.

“Uh, Aimee, I would really like to not be chained up.”

“I know. Give me a sec, okay?” Aimee snapped. Her vision narrowed and her heart sped up. The bond was crushing her will, eating at her resolve.

“Aimee,” Cassandra said in her husky tones. “Look at me.”

Lifting her head, Aimee stared at the woman before her. The very sight of her brought tears to her eyes. In the dhamphir’s beautiful eyes, she saw her salvation and hope.

“Is it the bond to Frank?” Cassandra asked in a gentle, yet straightforward tone.

Aimee nodded mutely, gripping the vial in her hand so tightly she was afraid it would crack.

Cassandra winced, then bit her lip thoughtfully. “Okay, this sucks.”

“He-he.... forced... me... to drink last night,” Aimee stuttered. Visions of Frank filled her mind, both tantalizing and terrifying.

“Shit. That *.” Cassandra shook her head. “But you’re a witch, not human. Can’t you fight it?”

“It’s f*cking with me. I was able to throw the fake spell because...because...he said to throw it. He didn’t know it was fake.”

“What did he tell you when you came to see me?” Cassandra asked in a careful tone.

“He said... I said that I had to check on the spells. He said to do it.” Aimee paced before the door, pulling at her hair with her free hand. She felt like her insides were liquefying inside of her. If she went to Frank, she knew the torment would stop.

“What’s in your hand?”

“A spell...” Aimee held it out slowly. The purple liquid sloshed around inside the vial.

“And you need to check on it, right?” Cassandra tilted her head and gave her a hopeful smile.

“Yes!” Aimee took a step forward, her mind resting on that thought. The pain lessened. “I’m obeying him by checking the spell.”

“To make sure it works, right?”

“Yes!”

“So...you’re obeying him.”

“Yes! Yes, I am!” Relief flooded her, irrational and wonderful. She was obeying Frank. He wanted her to check the spells. She clung to that thought in her mind as she hurried to Cassandra.

Staring into Aimee’s eyes, Cassandra smiled tenderly. “So... how do we make sure it works?”

“I have to put your blood into it and then I drink it.” Aimee tried not to think any further than the superficial thought that she was checking the spell’s effectiveness.

Cassandra sighed softly, raising her eyes to the shackles holding her wrists over her head. “I don’t suppose checking on the spell includes releasing me?”

Pain twisted through her mind and body at the mere thought. Adamantly shaking her head, Aimee whispered, “No.”

“Okay. So you need some of my blood. Got a knife? That * took my weapons.”

“I forgot one,” Aimee said warily. “And...” She averted her eyes nervously. “You have to drink my blood. First.”

Cassandra craned her head and tried to lower her head toward Aimee’s throat.

Rising to her toes, Aimee realized swiftly it wasn’t going to happen. The angle was all wrong due to Cassandra’s imprisonment. “My wrist I guess?”

“How much blood do you need me to drink?” Cassandra’s eyes were a bright red, but somehow still beautiful.

“Very little. A few drops. We just have to exchange blood,” Aimee answered nervously.

Her red lips parting into a grin, Cassandra gave her a jaunty look. “Okay, then let’s start with mine.” She dragged her tongue over her sharp fangs slowly, slicing it. A drop of blood instantly welled on its surface. Sticking out her tongue, a droplet dangled tantalizingly from the tip.

Aimee quickly unstopped the vial and held it up to catch three precious drops in it. As each one mixed with the liquid, the spell grew stronger, beginning to glow a soft lavender haze. The witch carefully replaced the top before shaking the vial, mixing the contents completely. The white glow made her laugh with delight. “It’s working!”