Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

Meanwhile, Baptiste cast conflagrations at the vampires, setting them aflame. Before the dying vampires could set the dry foliage about them on fire, the elemagus wrapped them in swirling winds and lifted them into the air to let them burn to ash.

Cian slashed his way through the vampires, decapitating them with a swipe of his obsidian blade. Around five of the blood-crazed fledglings leaped onto him trying to take him down, but he easily flung them off before dispatching them.

Benchley hurled spell bags at the assaulting forces. On impact magical vines of power wrapped around the vampires and dragged them down to the ground where it was easier for Jeff to plunge stakes into them.

In his beast form, Eduardo gleefully tore limbs from the vampires. Chunks of flesh and blood spray followed in his wake.

“How many left?” Cassandra gasped.

“Maybe twenty!” Aimee shouted back.

The neighborhood street glowed with suppression spells keeping the humans inside their homes and out of danger. Red-eyed, fearsome vampires ripped through the shadows. Crazed with the bloodlust, the feral creatures hurtled themselves at Cian’s cabal. Nearly fifty were scattered across the ground or burning to ash in fiery whirlwinds spinning above the ground. It was the biggest incursion yet.

Cassandra slashed at a vampire with her silver-bladed daggers, taking it to the ground where she could lop off his head. After burning so much of her blood power, she was starting to tire. Nearby, a vampire tackled Benchley from behind. Cassandra started toward him when she saw Cian materialize next to the fallen man and jerk the vampire off him and toss it into an oncoming group about to tackle them.

Aimee and Baptiste set the attackers on fire with a combination of magicks. The cool damp air filled with ash while steam rose into the night.

The Summoner’s vampires were relentless in their madness. Cassandra swept her blade through the neck of one vampire, then seconds later felt fangs clamp down on her shoulder. With a scream of pain, she grabbed the attacker’s thick dark hair and wrenched it from her flesh. The vampire’s teeth rent a hole in her sweater and skin. Cassandra tossed the growling creature to the ground with an angry grunt. Before she could move in to kill it, Aimee hit it with an orb of light that set it on fire.

Blood, hot and coppery, pumped from the wound and Cassandra pressed her hand against it to staunch the bleeding. The vampire had hit something major. She had to burn even more of her blood power to heal, making her dizzy. Cian abruptly landed before her and grabbed her hand away from the wound. Without hesitation, he clamped his mouth over it and she felt his cold tongue probe the wound. Aimee slid through the air toward them, bolts of magic erupting from her hands as she kept the vampires at bay. Removing his mouth, Cian tore open his wrist. Already Cassandra’s wound was starting to heal as his saliva worked on it.

“Drink.”

Cassandra hesitated, then grabbed her father’s wrist and took three big draughts of his blood. Instantly, she felt a rush of power hit her like a sledgehammer. It felt great. “Thanks, Dad,” she muttered, wiping the last of his blood from her lips.

Cian nodded and rushed back into the thick of the battle.

“Where are the ghosts?” Benchley exclaimed.

Jeff pounded another stake into a vampire, then scuttled toward another one. “No clue!”

“Keep fighting,” Cian ordered.

With a grin, Cassandra dove into a cluster of the vampires, fighting with renewed vigor. Her blades flashed in the streetlight as she slashed, feinted, twisted, and fought her way through them. Eduardo battled near her, his claws covered in blood and flesh. It was a deadly tango they danced through the vampires. The fledglings’ only advantages were their insanity and numbers. With many of their comrades moldering on the street, The Summoner’s forces were rapidly falling into disarray.

As the head of the vampire in front of her flew off into an overgrown yard, Cassandra was startled to see a very handsome, pale man standing in the center of the street watching her. White-blond hair fell to his shoulders and his fine-featured face was both handsome and cruel. Because he was clad completely in black, it was as if he was clothed in the very night. When his cold blue eyes met hers, Cassandra’s gut contracted painfully. Fear ripped through her, paralyzing her in place.

“He’s here,” she rasped.

The sound of the blood dripping from her blades filled the night as the world was plunged into silence.

“He’s here!” she screamed, her gaze not wavering from the necromancer. “Dad!”

The Summoner granted her a slight smile as he nodded his head. “The dhamphir is Cian’s daughter. I see.”

“Dad! Aimee! Jeff!” Struggling to move, to breathe, to even think straight, Cassandra was utterly trapped in the power of The Summoner’s gaze. Her daggers fell from her fingers as they grew slack. The numbness that was spreading through her limbs sent her to her knees.

“This will be so much more interesting than I anticipated,” The Summoner said with delight.

Then he was gone.

“Babe!” Aimee gathered Cassandra into her arms. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Gasping, Cassandra saw that the battle was over. The street was littered in the decaying bodies of the fledglings. The suppression spells cast flickering light over the dead.

“Did anyone else see him?” Cassandra let Aimee help her to her feet. “Dad, did you see him?”

“Who, Cassandra?” Cian strode toward her, wiping his blades off on his jeans.