Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

“This thing about Bianca…you don’t think it was a dream?”

“Maybe. But if Bianca is somewhere trapped inside her own body, I want to find a way to communicate with her.”

With a low whistle, Benchley scratched at his beard. “But The Summoner might catch on to what you’re doing.”

“That’s why you’re going to find a way for me to do it without alerting him.” Amaliya gave him her fiercest glare. She may have overdone it because he visibly flinched. “If I can talk to her, maybe she’ll know what he’s going to do, where he is, and how I can stop him.”

Sagging in his chair, Benchley opened a drawer, pulled out a fresh file folder, and shoved his notes and Amaliya’s into it. “Can I say something?”

“Sure.”

Benchley’s gaze brushed over her, then the cluttered walls, before returning to the folder. “All my life I’ve been a gamer. I know all the rules. Just like those people out there, I know how to roll the dice, measure the moves, and do all the shit I can see you don’t give a fuck about by that loo

k on your face. My point is this. Gaming is neat and tidy. There are rules. But this thing we’re facing has no rules. It has no neatness. It’s going to be fuckin’ chaos, and I hate that. I hate that I can’t open up a book and just find the answers. Figure it out. I’ll help you with this because it makes me feel like maybe, somehow, you can make all this shit make sense. The rest of the group might not want to admit it, but you’re our biggest gun, and maybe our only hope.”

Amaliya tried to look as nonchalant as possible. Though she knew he was right, she didn’t want to actually admit to it. To do so would be almost too much for her to deal with at the moment. “Fine. But I’m not dressing like that.” She pointed to Alice from the Resident Evil films glowering out of a poster dressed in a sexy outfit.

“Aw, c’mon. It would be so wicked!”

Amaliya flipped him off.

Benchley grinned. “I’m on this. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Thanks.” Sliding to her feet, Amaliya hooked her thumb onto her belt. “Bench, maybe I am the big gun, but you gotta get me my ammo. That makes you important, right?”

The comment brightened his face slightly. “Yeah. Sure.”

Amaliya unlocked the door and jerked it open. “See you later.”

“Benchley!” a male voice shouted. “We need you. Your sister made a bogus call.”

Alexia stood near a table clutching an open book to her chest. She looked as mad as the man glaring at her.

“Alexia knows that rulebook better than me, Jericho! What she says goes!” Benchley called back. To Amaliya he whispered, “I’m not stupid enough to override my sister.”

Waving to Alexia, Amaliya swiftly made her exit, ignoring the stares that followed her ass.

The hot, balmy Texas air buffeted her as she strode toward the dark sedan she had driven to the store. Jeff’s occult bookstore had lights on even though it was after hours. Samantha’s car was in the nearly empty parking lot. Amaliya was glad that Jeff and Samantha seemed to be doing well. Every once and awhile guilt nibbled on her when she considered how much she had screwed up the blonde’s life, but she rationalized it away by concentrating on the fact that Samantha was happy with Jeff.

“He lets you go out alone?”

The dark, rich voice vibrated through her eliciting an immediate response in her lady parts. Spinning about, she found herself face to face with the coyote.

“What’s up, Eduardo?”

It was unnerving how silently he could move. It also bothered her that she had let her guard down and let him get so close.

“Is the old man in the store still? Because there is no way his possessive ass would let you out of his sight,” Eduardo said, obviously teasing her.

Amaliya lifted one shoulder. “Maybe I snuck out.”

The coyote was dressed in very tight jeans and a white t-shirt that showed off his impressive muscles to full effect. The menace that oozed off of him only added to his sultry sex appeal. He was all bad boy and just the type of guy Amaliya had gone after during her college days. Despite his clean-cut appearance, she sensed the feral aspect of his nature just below the surface.

“So, he doesn’t totally control you.” Eduardo tilted his head, his eyes glinting with dangerous allure.

“No one controls me,” Amaliya answered, setting her hands on her hips. He was baiting her and she knew it, yet she couldn’t resist playing along just for a little bit.

Eduardo inched deeper into her personal space, sniffing the air. “You always smell of roses.”