Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

“It’s full of stars,” Samantha whispered, then her lips clamped over the wound and she drank in the darkness of the eternal night. It was cold, rich, and coppery.

The world transformed around her instantaneously taking on the appearance of the negative of a black and white photograph, the dark and light hues transposed. Only Amaliya in her dark goddess mode and Aimee glowing like a rainbow remained the same. A thick mist roiled around Samantha, full of whispering voices and soothing caresses. A small part of Samantha’s mind thought that maybe she should be afraid, yet the altered world was comforting. The more of Amaliya’s dark blood she drank, the clearer the ghostly realm became. She could see for hundreds of miles in all directions. Brightly glowing patches of land called to her, whispering her name, and she discerned these were graveyards. Ghosts drifted through the trees, coming to greet her and welcome her home.

The coppery taste of the night filled with stars stained her tongue and lips when Amaliya drew her wrist away.

“It’s so beautiful,” Samantha breathed.

Amaliya was stunning, yet terrible. Her eyes smoldered with white fire and her immense black wings filled the air. “I see it.”

The vampire drew Samantha to her feet, her hands cold, yet burning with power. Their combined magicks writhed around them like great snakes made of the glittering darkness and luminescent mist.

“You freed us, Samantha,” Amaliya whispered, looking downward.

Samantha followed the vampire’s gaze and was stunned to see their bodies lying side by side on the ground, their fingers intertwined. “We’re astral projecting!”

With a triumphant, gleeful grin, Amaliya’s power lashed out and the dead rose out of the ground around them. Tendrils of their ghostly memories sifted among the decayed bodies, murmuring in hushed voices to the phasmagus. Samantha watched transfixed as Amaliya’s power restored the broken bodies of the dead. Samantha sensed the fine strands of her own magic throbbing with energy, waiting for her command. Concentrating on the wisps floating among the dead, she called the ghosts forward. To her amazement, they answered, taking on form.

“You are completely The Phasmagus now.” Amaliya’s voice pulsed with power.

“And you are The Necromancer,” Samantha answered.

“Let’s find out just what we can do,” Amaliya said, obviously enthralled.

Still holding Amaliya’s hand, Samantha rotated about so she was facing the west. “Let’s go find Roberto.”

Not certain of what exactly she should do and acting purely on impulse, Samantha concentrated on the nearest phosphorescent nodule resting in the hills outside Austin. Instantly there was a dizzying rush around them, then they stood in the center of a graveyard.

“Whoa,” Samantha breathed.

Amaliya gripped Samantha’s hand ever tighter. “Do that again!”

Nodding, Samantha stared across the strangely illuminated terrain and concentrated on the brightest spot in the west. Again, there was an exhilarating whoosh, then they stood among the gravestones of yet another cemetery. Before Amaliya could say a word, Samantha looked toward the next spot. This time they appeared among a grove of trees, with no graves to be seen. Yet, the ghostly dead were nearby, watching curiously.

“Wherever there are bodies...” Amaliya said in awe.

Again and again, they moved through the world at an exhilarating pace until they stood in an eerily dark and dreary cemetery. The only glow came from a single figure sitting in the center of it. The beautiful luminance of the other graveyards was absent here. The graves were black, hollow holes.

“He took them all,” Samantha wailed. “He took them all and burned them up like candles.” The horror of The Summoner’s act washed over her. All the fragments of memories of lives lived and lost were gone. Only one ghost remained. He wasn’t a memory, but sentient and weeping.

“Roberto,” Amaliya said, pointing.

“Have you come to finish his work?” Roberto asked, his voice raw. He sat upon a grave, his body hunched over with his arms hugging his upper body.

Holding hands, Amaliya and Samantha approached him. The dark necromancer power slithered over the ground, seeking the dead, but finding none. Samantha’s own magic twisted and twirled about her in wispy ribbons, cautiously approaching Roberto, but not touching him.

“We did come to find you, but not to do The Summoner’s bidding,” Samantha answered.

“You’re more powerful than before. Isn’t this his work?” Roberto’s form looked like the cutout of a black and white photo. It crackled and speckled as he moved.

“No, it’s ours,” Amaliya said.

“Plus, he’s the bad guy. We’re the good guys.”

“Are you?” Roberto looked doubtful.

“We are.” Amaliya’s power receded to pool around her, covering her like a great cloak.

Roberto stared at them fearfully. “Are you here for revenge? For what I did?”