Pretty When She Kills
Page 16

“Why are you looking for her?” Pete asked. His blurry gaze fell over the camper and truck again. He had missed the silver crosses worked into the rims of the wheels. Glancing around the area, he saw small silver cross stakes pressed into the ground around the truck and camper. “You’re a vampire hunter.”
Ethan shook his head. “Paranormal investigator.”
“You gonna kill her?” Pete felt his throat constricting at the thought of Amaliya dying again. Her face filled his mind, so beautiful, so sweet.
“Nope.” Ethan mopped up some ketchup with his bun and took another big bite.
“Then what? You said someone hired you to investigate the murders. Is that true?”
Ethan bobbed his head and wiped off his mouth with a napkin. “Absolutely. I know Amaliya killed those people, but I want to know who killed her. She can tell me that.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Kill the one who made her,” Ethan said matter-of-factly. “She can lead me to him.”
“You won’t kill her?” Pete asked, his voice slurring with beer and fear.
“Nope. I can save her.” Ethan shoved the rest of his hamburger in his mouth, annoying Pete.
“You can make her be alive again? Human?”
“Absolutely,” Ethan said around his food as he chewed.
“For real?”
“She’s only been a vampire a few months. There is this old ritual that the Catholic church used to restore vampires to life.”
“You’re shittin’ me?” Pete stared at the man incredulously. The entire conversation was insane, but he couldn’t make himself get up and leave. Despite everything, Pete believed every word Ethan was saying.
“No, I’m not shittin’ you. But it can only work within the first year of the vampire’s life. After that, the monster inside of them becomes too strong and they are lost. So my plan is to find Amaliya, find out where her master is, use his ashes in the ritual, and restore her to life.”
Pete shook his head in disbelief. “But why?”
“It’s what I do. It’s what my family has always done. We make sure that the vampires never grow strong enough to overthrow humanity. We kill the old ones, restore the young ones.”
“And you came here to figure out if we know where she is?”
“You’re my first stop. After this, I head west.”
“Her family outside of DeLeon,” Pete sighed.
“Yeah.”
“They won’t talk to you. Same as the Vezoraks. They’re not going to trust you if they do know where she is.”
“That’s why I’m hoping you’ll go with me, Pete,” Ethan said staring into Pete’s eyes. “How much do you love Amaliya, Pete? Enough to try to save her from eternal damnation?”
Pressing his lips together, Pete nodded mutely. The fingers clutching the beer were numb. He felt adrift, disengaged from the world around him.
“So what do you say, Pete? Will you help me find Amaliya and save her?”
“Yes,” Pete said, knowing he had no other choice. “I’ll do anything I can to save her.”
Ethan flashed a wide smile, his dark eyes glittering. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”
Part Three
Saturday Night
Chapter 10
Cian could barely hear himself think. The pounding, growling music filled the loft, causing his chrome and glass desk to vibrate. Seated at an array of flat screen monitors, he glanced over his shoulder at Amaliya. She was at her drum kit pounding away with a fervor that was almost terrifying. Her black hair flew around her face, whipping back and forth, obscuring her rapturous expression.
“You’re going to break another one!” Cian shouted at her.
Either she didn’t hear him, or she ignored him. Wielding the drumsticks like a rock star, she was lost in the music. The loud booms made Cian cringe. Every time she smacked a cymbal, he fought the desire to duck. He had barely escaped decapitation a few weeks before when she had hit a cymbal too hard and sent it spinning across the apartment. Amaliya had already gone through five different drum kits. Caught up in the music, she’d forget her vampire strength and destroy them.
Rubbing his temples, Cian wondered how the horrendous racket pouring out of the speakers could be even considered music. It was loud, chaotic, frantic, and primitive. It had taken him awhile to realize that the growling was actually words. He sighed. To think he had installed the sound system to listen to his favorite composer, Brahms.
The doorbell was barely audible, but he caught the insistent buzzing noise on the fringes of his hearing. He glanced at the monitor streaming the feed from the security cameras.
Samantha stood in the hallway outside his apartment. She was tapping her foot and had her hands on her hips. She didn’t look happy. He unlocked the doors with a few keystrokes and slid out of his chair to go greet her.
The door opened and the petite blond barreled into the foyer with a look of determination on her face that gave him pause. That particular expression was never a good sign when it came to his former fiancé. He leaned against the wall and raised an eyebrow. Samantha had a penchant for dramatic entrances and it was best to let her have her moment.
Yanking out a small box from her purse and thrusting it in his direction, she said, “Here’s the replacement phone for the whore.”
Cian inclined his head. “Thanks for picking this up, Sam.”
“You should give me a raise,” Samantha said to him in a distracted tone, but her eyes were not on him. Her attention was directed up the hall toward the living room where Amaliya was lost in her drum solo.
“I just gave you one.”
“I should totally get hazard pay,” Samantha said, her eyes flicking toward him. Her hands were clenched at her sides and he realized she was barely containing herself.
“What’s wrong, Samantha?” he asked at last, deciding to bite the bullet.
She swiveled about on her scarily tall wedges and finally truly looked at him. Her eyes were shimmering. She was close to tears.
“Samantha?” Now he was truly worried.
“I told you to send her away and you insisted on her staying. You totally fucked up my life.”
His eyebrows lifted. Cian was surprised by her outburst. He thought they had worked things out between them. “Sam...”
“Don’t try to charm me. You made a choice and I’m paying for it!” Samantha shook her head, her pain evident on her face.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. But I’m still pissed!”
“I really believed that I could somehow reclaim my humanity,” Cian said in a gentle tone. “I believed you could save me from myself. I did love you. I still care for you.”
“I know that!” Samantha dabbed at her eyes with a well-used tissue. “Honestly, Cian, I get it. I do! Hell, I know that I was living a stupid dream. I thought I was Bella Swan to your Edward Cullen, but it was all a stupid dream.”
Cian lightly touched her shoulder. “Samantha, we were both foolish to believe in that dream. We lied to ourselves and each other because it was a lovely, beautiful dream.”
“I know! We were so stupid!” She slid easily into his arms and laid her head on his chest.
Cian rested his head on her soft blond hair, gently rocking her. He still cared deeply for her. Samantha was a very special person. Her heart was so open, her loyalty so fierce. Samantha had been brave enough to try to save him from The Summoner. That was the most amazing act of love anyone had ever shown him.
“You may be a good person, Cian, but you’re a dumbass.”
Cian laughed. “Maybe.”
They pulled apart and he lightly touched her cheek. Her flushed skin was warm under his touch. He always loved the warmth of her flesh. She burned a little hotter than most humans. It always made him feel a bit more alive, but today she felt downright feverish.
“Samantha, what is going on?” He started to wonder if she was ill.
“I’m…” she shrugged.
“You’re not here just to tell me what a cheating jerk I am, are you?”
“No, I gave you that speech already. And you still suck for it.” Samantha took out a fresh tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “I’m here to talk to Morticia.”
“Sam...”
“Look, fucker, I have a right to hate her for more reasons than you know. Okay?”
Cian started to protest, but stopped himself. He had betrayed Samantha with Amaliya. Instead of getting married to Samantha in a few weeks, he was living with Amaliya. How could he deny Samantha the right to be angry?
“Samantha, do you really think it wise for you to continue this argument with her?”
“Oh, I have a whole new thing with her. I need to talk to her like right now.”
“We’re waiting on an important phone call. This is not the best time.”
“God, how can you think with that music?” Samantha glared toward one of the speakers, changing the subject.
“She’s practicing.” Cian shrugged.