Pretty When She Kills
“She said The Summoner killed her,” Amaliya’s voice sounded weak and fearful even to her own ears. Her hand was shaking even more violently now. That one sentence in her grandmother’s voicemail had struck through her like a bolt of lightning.
“Yes, she did. She gave me her name, but I forgot it when I woke up,” her grandmother confessed.
“Was it Bianca Leduc?” Amaliya felt Cian’s hands gently rest on her shoulders and she leaned back against him.
“Yes, that sounds right. I think so. Do you know who she is?”
“She was the girl that was buried in the forest. He killed her, too,” Amaliya said, looking over her shoulder at Cian. “She’s the one that didn’t rise up to be a vampire.”
Her grandmother was silent on the other end of the phone, but Amaliya could hear her breathing.
“Grandmama?”
“I’m trying to remember more about the dream, but it’s very hard. I know she said you were in danger. But, I think she said something about a woman with red eyes. I can’t remember,” the older woman wailed.
“Do you think she will come to you again tonight?” Amaliya hated the sense of foreboding that was filling her.
“Yes, yes. I do. But I’ll be ready this time. I’ll remember what she says.”
“Call me if she does, okay?”
“I will. You better answer your phone this time!”
Amaliya smiled despite the sick feeling in her stomach. “I promise I will.”
After a few words of endearment, she hung up.
“Who is Bianca?” Samantha asked in a worried voice.
“She was in my class with Professor Sumner, aka the asshole. He killed her, too, but they found her in her grave. She didn’t rise like I did. My grandmother says that Bianca visited her and said he’d killed her. That was my grandmother’s voicemail. She couldn’t remember much else other than I’m in danger from a woman with red eyes.”
“All vampires have red eyes when in a rage or hungry,” Cian said, frowning.
Clutching her phone, Amaliya leaned against the counter. She felt sickened by the thought of Bianca roaming the afterlife as a ghost, but was grateful that she was trying to help Amaliya. “I bet this is about Rachon coming to Austin.”
“Or it could be Etzli.” Cian rubbed her back gently.
The memories of her death were flooding her mind’s eye and Amaliya closed her eyes, pressing her palms against her eyelids. “I hate to say this, but I hope she visits my grandmother again.”
“This is really bad, right?” Samantha’s voice sounded weak, but close.
Amaliya looked up as Samantha opened up a cabinet, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. The other woman’s hand was shaking, too.
“I doubt it is anything significant. We already know that Etzli and Santos are intent on killing us. Rachon is coming because she has a hidden agenda. I hate to say it, but the ghost of Bianca isn’t really saying anything we don’t know,” Cian said.
“It has to be significant though,” Amaliya protested. “If she’s haunting my grandmother, her warning has to be important.”
“I’m not saying that it’s not, Amaliya. I’m saying that it’s not anything we don’t already know,” Cian said. He appeared quite calm as he gazed down at her. His touch was gentle, but she could see by the look in his eyes he wanted her to calm down.
“I’m pretty sure this is really bad,” Samantha said, daring to defy Cian. Amaliya could see the fear in the blond woman’s face as she gazed at the male vampire. Cian was imposing in the moment. He was exuding calm and strength, but also a dangerous violence lurked underneath his exterior.
“I agree with her,” Amaliya said.
Cian lifted his eyebrows, chuckling. “Oh, really?”
“Ghosts don’t haunt unless they have a reason. Unfinished business, that sort of stuff,” Samantha insisted. “I’ve been reading up on it all day since I saw that ghost this morning. This Bianca chick is trying to warn us about something through Innocente. You can’t ignore that! You can’t say, ‘Oh, well, we know everyone wants us dead.’ Yeah, maybe they do, but this is a very specific warning. A woman with red eyes.”
Cian started slightly, his hazel eyes growing distant as he folded his arms over his chest. “Huh.”
“What?” Samantha and Amaliya chorused.
“Rachon has maroon eyes. It’s a trait that runs in her family.”
“She’s not coming here to help us then. She’s coming here to kill us,” Amaliya exclaimed.
“She is The Summoner’s favorite kid. She’s totally going to be gunning for both of you. You can’t let her into the city!” Samantha protested.
Cian stared off at some distant point in the horizon, then shrugged. “I’d rather she come here and get it over with then.”
“What?” Samantha screeched.
Amaliya shoved him. “What the fuck, Cian?”
“Listen to me. I would rather she come and make her move now instead of joining forces with Etzli and Santos. We can handle her and her minions, but we can't go up against her, Santos, Etzli, and the San Antonio Cabal. Let Rachon come. If she attacks, we kill her. And that will be a warning to anyone else out there that wants to attack us.” Cian’s voice was firm. His mind was clearly made up.
“Why don’t you have more vampires in this cabal? There are only two of us! We’re so fucked!” Amaliya shook her head, agitated. “Why don’t we have a witch?”
“Yeah, what she said,” Samantha said.
“Because I didn’t want to deal with all this bullshit! All this political maneuvering! Dealing with the fuckin’ dynamics of the undead world!” Cian responded in a gruff voice.
“Well, you’re having to deal with it now!” Amaliya shouted at him.
“Because of you!” Cian snapped.
Amaliya sputtered she was so furious in that second.
“Fuck you, Cian!” Samantha said, stepping in front of Amaliya. “Fuck you! You decided to shelter her! You brought this on yourself! On all of us!”
“When did you two become best friends?” Cian looked amused and pissed at the same time.
Samantha threw Amaliya a dark look over her shoulder. “Yeah, why am I defending you? Is this that blood thing?”
Amaliya shrugged. She was still angry. They were all fucked.
“Rachon is coming. We need to deal with that. Then we deal with Santos and Etzli,” Cian said in a firm, authoritative voice.
“You’re not the boss of me!” Samantha set her hands on her hips and glared. “I think we should vote on this.”
“This isn’t a democracy,” Cian shot back.
“Well, you’re a shitty dictator!”
Amaliya reached out and snagged Samantha’s arm and drew her to her side. A surge of power swelled up between the two women for a moment, startling Amaliya, but Samantha didn’t seem to notice. Recovering, Amaliya said, “He’s not going to listen.”
“We’re so fucked,” Samantha sniffed.
“Could you just trust me?” Cian asked.
“No,” Amaliya said.
“Nope,” Sam answered.
Cian frowned. “Why not?”
“Because you’re not listening to the warning!” Amaliya exclaimed.
“Ghosts don’t show up for no good reason, Cian!” Samantha added.
“Oh, so you see a few ghosts and now you’re an expert?”
Amaliya and Samantha exchanged looks. Cian may be the badass vampire master of the city, but he was being an idiot and they both knew it.
“I would think that a good leader would recognize the assets he has around him and utilize them,” Amaliya said, trying not to sound too sarcastic.
“I agree with her!”
Cian frowned as he pointed back and forth between them. “I’m older, stronger, and wiser than both of you.”
“I see dead people,” Samantha insisted.
“I make them into an army,” Amaliya added.
Cian sighed.
“Don’t let her come, Cian.” Amaliya glared at the man she loved with all her heart, but wanted to toss off the balcony.
“It’ll be bad if you do. Really bad,” Samantha agreed.
“It’s done. I already gave my word. You are both going to have to deal with it,” Cian said in a tone that was firm.
“Fuck me,” Amaliya sighed.
“You’re being a stupid man!” Samantha shifted her purse strap onto her shoulder and strode toward the door. “A complete stupid man!”
“I am the vampire mast-”
“Oh, shove it up your ass,” Samantha snarled and disappeared down the hallway.
Cian swiveled about to gaze at Amaliya evenly as Samantha slammed the door behind her as she exited the apartment.
She met his stare, raised her hand, and extended her middle finger. Clutching her phone, she darted past him and headed upstairs. She’d hang out in the TV room until she heard back from her grandmother.
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