Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

Samantha scrunched her face. “I’m trying.”

“No, you’re staring at the house out of the corner of your eye.” Amaliya poked the center of Samantha’s forehead with one finger. “C’mon. Pay attention.”

“Ugh! It’s hard.” Samantha’s frown deepened.

In spite of all their practice, in the end, they hadn’t branched out their abilities, but only enhanced what they already had. It was frustrating. Amaliya had religiously studied all the notes Benchley had given her, but she still couldn’t astral project. Samantha still struggled to call ghosts on her own without Amaliya’s help. Their powers were best when they were together, which could work against them if they were separated in battle.

The back door creaked opened and a female silhouette appeared framed in the doorway. The witch’s long white skirt fluttered around her legs and her tank top covered in silver sequins sparkled in the moonlight as she hurried off the back porch. Amaliya admired the long bronze hair that rippled on the breeze like a cloak. The witch carried a large wicker basket in her arms as she strode down to where the two women were sitting.

“Care if I join you?” she asked.

Amaliya shrugged. “Samantha’s concentration is shot, so sure.”

“Hey!”

“It is!”

Samantha pouted. “Fine.”

Sitting cross-legged on the ground beside them, Aimee set the basket aside. “I know you two are struggling and I think I can help. If that’s okay?”

“Anything to help Samantha concentrate is appreciated.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “Seriously, it’s like studying for math. Annoying.”

Aimee withdrew a very old tome from the basket. It was bound with strips of leather and most of the pages were frayed. “This is my Book of Shadows. It came through my mother’s line. It has this special little quirk where it adds information when I need it. It’s been a little reluctant to help me sort you two out but—”

“It can think?” Samantha asked, bending toward the book.

“Leave it alone,” Amaliya said, pushing her upright. “She just said it’s been reluctant to help us. Don’t freak it out.”

“So it’s alive?” Samantha persisted, eyes wide.

Aimee gave a slight nod. “Well, in a way it is. It’s not flesh and blood like we are, but a different sort of energy. Anyway, it was not very happy about the whole dark magic aspect of what you two do. It took some cajoling on my part to finally get it to talk to me.”

“It talks?” Samantha’s eyes grew wider.

Amaliya smacked her lightly. “Sam! Listen.” The blonde was off her game and it was annoying Amaliya to no end. Samantha was obviously distracted.

Scowling at Amaliya, Samantha made a point of clamping her lips together.

Looking amused, Aimee continued, “Your magicks resemble the necromancers and phasmagi of the past, but the reality is that it’s something uniquely yours. I had my a-ha moment earlier today when listening to Samantha’s plan to recruit Roberto to be her ghost minion.”

“What?” Amaliya gasped. She was climbing to her feet before she realized what she was doing. Aimee grabbed her hand and yanked her down to the ground, surprising Amaliya with her strength.

“Samantha, you didn’t tell Amaliya, I see.”

“Oops.” Samantha gave Amaliya a wide-eyed innocent look.

“What the fuck are you talking about, little bitch?”

“I need a minion! A ghost to give me the inside scoop on the ghost shit, bitch-face,” Samantha answered.

“And you picked Roberto? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? He tried to kill me and Cian!”

“And he also tried to warn us about The Summoner! Remember? The Summoner was going to obliterate him, too, to infuse himself into Bianca’s body. He’s going to want payback!” Samantha scowled at Amaliya defiantly.

Leaning toward the blonde, Amaliya stared into her friend’s eyes trying to gauge if she believed the bullshit she was spewing. To her surprise, she saw that Samantha didn’t flinch.