Pretty When She Dies

“I didn't think you'd be okay with me having sex,” she answered.



“Oh, God! I don't want to hear it, Grandmama!” He covered his ears with his hands and stood staring at her in disbelief.



“I told you. You're such a wussy,” she said with a sad shake of her head.



“I am not. You're just...” he stammered to a halt. Calling his grandmother an old woman would get his ass kicked. So he clamped his mouth shut.



She smiled at him victoriously, seeing she had the upper hand. “Now, go get dressed. We need to go save Amaliya.”



Sergio rubbed the top of his head with one hand and frowned. “Nothing I say or do is going to keep you from going to Austin, right?” He could feel himself giving in despite his tiredness and his desperate desire to crawl back onto the sofa and sleep.



“I'll steal your truck while you sleep if you don't go with me,” she answered truthfully.



“Fine! I'll get ready!” Stomping out of the living room, he couldn't help but smile and by the time he was in the shower, he was laughing.



***



Amaliya woke up first and stretched with a soft yawn. She felt a little hungry and she rolled over onto Cian and lightly bit his neck. He woke up with a start, then wrapped his arms around her. Teasingly, she held his flesh between her teeth, but didn't draw blood. He ran a slow, seductive hand up over her back. She let go of his skin to kiss him. It felt wonderful considering everything that had happened the last few days and she let herself enjoy the tenderness of it.



“I'm hungry,” he said in a low voice, and pushed her gently off him. “We both better feed.”



With a little growl, Amaliya sat up and ran her hands over her hair to smooth it down. Cian rolled over and opened the wall. It slid upward and revealed the young blond woman from the elevator the night before sitting in a chair. She had been waiting for them to awaken and she sat with her legs crossed. Her hand was resting on the gun on her lap.



“Heather?” Cian's expression was just as confused as Amaliya felt.



“I didn't want to do it, you know,” she said in a strangely monotone voice. Her eyes were oddly jittery as she sat there looking pretty in her jogging outfit.



“Do what?” Cian asked in a low voice.



Her eyes continued to waver strangely as she forced them to look at him. “I shot Roberto.”



Cian nearly launched himself off the bed, but Amaliya caught hold of him and drew him back.



“It's The Summoner,” Amaliya whispered to him.



“He made me after he...he...” she touched the back of her head with her hand. “I should be dead. I hit the wall so hard. I can feel the cracks in my skull, but I'm not dead. He won't let me die.”



Amaliya slowly slid to the end of the bed and set her feet on the floor. She tried to pull on that dark power within her and sling it around Heather to bring her under her control, but it sat dormant inside of her, unmoving.



Heather swallowed hard. “He made me shoot Roberto. Then I had to go back to my apartment. He was there. He told me things. Horrible things.” Her fingers twitched over the gun again.



“This is impossible. He can't control the dead or the near dead when he's sleeping,” Cian declared. He looked angry and stunned by the turn of events. His gaze swept over the apartment looking for Roberto.



“He doesn't sleep anymore. He's so old he doesn't have to. He can now stay awake all day. Sit in a dark room, play with dead girls, and make the dead walk the streets.” She stood up slowly. “The bullets won't kill you, but they'll hurt. A lot. He told me to shoot you if I had to. You're supposed to come with me if you want Roberto back alive.” Amaliya didn't like anyone pointing a gun at her, even if she was a vampire. She flinched when Heather aimed the gun directly at her chest.



“Get up. Get dressed. He is calling me to him. He's waiting.”



“Roberto doesn't mean jack shit to me. Let The Summoner kill him,” Amaliya said with a shrug. “Besides, how do we know you really have him?”



Cian climbed off the bed, sleek, muscular and naked. She saw a flash of lust in Heather's eyes, then it was replaced with dullness again. “Yes, how do we truly know you have him, Heather? Did The Summoner give you proof?”



Heather coolly tossed Roberto's keys and money clip at Cian's feet. There was blood on them.



Cian stared down at the personal possessions of his servant with a dark expression on his face. “Get dressed,” he ordered Amaliya.



“I am not going to go out there and risk my life to save your freaking, backstabbing servant,” she said, and crossed her arms over her bare breasts.



“Fine. Then I'll go alone,” Cian said.



Heather trained the gun slowly toward him. “The Summoner whispers to me that if you don't come I am to shoot Cian in the head.”



“He'll heal,” Amaliya sneered.



Cian's brow furrowed. “What sort of bullets are those?”



“The exploding kind,” Heather answered.



Cian looked at Amaliya pointedly. “Chances are, I could not heal from that.”



For a moment, she pondered just running away. Just fleeing into the night and away from all this insanity, but looking at Cian, she knew she couldn't bolt. Slowly, she stood up. “Fine.”



Naked, she walked over to where her jeans were and began to pull them on. They had blood on them, but it wouldn't matter where they were going.



“I'm getting dressed,” Cian said to Heather.



“I'm coming with you,” Heather answered.



“Why don't we just kill her and be done with it?” Amaliya asked zipping up her jeans.



“Because if we don't go tonight, he'll up the ante. He'll do something even worse than taking Roberto,” Cian answered.



“He says he knows where your Grandmama lives,” Heather said in a voice that held no emotion, yet her voice quavered.



“I hope he can see this,” Amaliya said, and gave Heather the finger. There was no way she was going to let The Summoner get her grandmother. She had to go.



With Heather standing guard over them, they quickly dressed. Cian handed Amaliya a David Bowie t-shirt. She shrugged it on and tied it at her waist. Her bloodied boots would have to do. Cian changed quickly into a black shirt and jeans and pulled on sturdy combat boots. His hair was now past his shoulders and his goatee looked a little scraggly. He was looking more and more her type all the time, she thought.



“Let's go,” Heather ordered.



“Where are we going?” Amaliya demanded.



“A ghost town,” Heather answered and waved them to the door.



“Great, just great,” Amaliya muttered. Her luck, as usual, was in the pits.



“Where?” Cian slid his mouse over the mouse pad to awaken the computer.



Heather blinked, looking confused. “I can get us there.”



“Where?” His voice was firm.



“Fenton,” she answered. “He says to come now.”



“I want to see how far away that is,” Cian answered her in a authoritative voice.



Amaliya was confused at first, then realized Cian wanted to know how far away they were going to be out of the city. They were restricted by the night and if they escaped, they would need to know if they had time to make it back to Austin or make another plan altogether.



Cian typed into the Google search and watched the map pop up. “Okay. Let's go.”



Heather waved the gun at them. “You're wasting time on purpose. He says you're stalling thinking Roberto isn't with him. But he is. I shot him and gave him to The Summoner.”



“Fine. Then take us to Roberto,” Cian said in a cold voice.



Cian took her hand as they slipped out his door. His touch was surprisingly calming. Her fingers tightened on his they walked into the elevator.



***



Jeff felt uncomfortable barging into a vampire's lair. Hunters only tracked their prey by day. Entering a vampire's lair at night was suicide. But after a day of arguing and planning, Samantha was determined to give Cian one last chance to see the truth. She had been unshakable in her belief that he was a good guy and needed to just see the light. Jeff wasn't sure coming to the apartment was the wise thing. He would have preferred neutral ground.



In his short time knowing Samantha, he realized she had a will of steel. So here they were, outside of Cian's apartment with Samantha banging on the door.



“Maybe they're out,” Jeff said after a minute.



“I have a key, but if they are doing something, I don't want to walk in on them,” she snapped at him with her face screwed up with disgust.



“Do you really think they're-” He stopped at the look on her face. “Sorry.”



Samantha hesitated, then began rummaging in her big purse. “I cannot believe that I'm scared of going into my own fiancé's apartment because of some stupid bloodsucking whore!”



Jeff turned away to suppress his laugh. She was really cute when she was upset, but he did feel bad for her. He knew it had become increasingly clear to her the last few days that she really didn't know her fiancé as well as she thought.