Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

Now, she was on her last cigarette and feeling more hopeful than she had earlier when Bianca had revealed that much of what she, Cian, and the others had believed to be true was actually wrong. Exhaling, Amaliya ruffled Bianca’s wavy hair with her fingers. The stillness of the other vampire’s form was strangely comforting. She could almost pretend it was Cian next to her, but the illusion was broken by the feminine softness of Bianca’s body. No matter what happened next, Amaliya vowed to not abandon Bianca. She could find a place in her home and heart for the girl. Bianca had tried to save her once and failed. Now Amaliya was determined to find a way to save Bianca. She was sick and tired of people dying for her.

It was difficult to maintain her focus in the presence of the nearly reconstructed sword, but her stubbornness was benefitting her. Every time her mind would begin to drift to The Summoner’s promise of the new world and her role in it, she would force herself to remember her grandmother. It helped fight off the mind-altering power of her bond to The Summoner and the black magic writhing in the air about the nearly completed sword.

“It’s close now.” The sound of The Summoner speaking broke her out of her reverie.

“The other ring?” She dragged heavily on her cigarette.

“Yes.”

Amaliya watched the muscles beneath his skin ripple as he stood. It was difficult to believe it was not a true body that was standing before her. Brushing his blond hair back from his face, The Summoner turned to gaze at her. In another time, in another place, she could have fallen hard for him and kicked her humanity away to be with him. Maybe if he hadn’t abandoned her in the beginning he could have won her love. Amaliya was aware of her weaknesses. Bad boys, sex, alcohol, cigarettes, and loud music were all she had really enjoyed for a long time. Now she enjoyed those same things, but also had the added pleasures of Cian’s love, friendships, and a place that felt like home.

“Our time is soon,” The Summoner said with delight. “Tonight we ascend as gods over the new world.”

Crawling onto the bed, he sprawled out alongside her, his long muscular frame alluring in the dim light. His hand slid over her legs to cup her hip. Ignoring him, Amaliya continued to smoke and stroke Bianca’s hair. The Summoner desired her, and she was keen to use that to her advantage. Confidence filled her as she realized just how much power she actually had in the situation. When he kissed her, she passionately responded, her tongue dominating his. With a little growl, he pulled her closer, consuming her mouth. When he finally released her lips to tease her neck with his teeth, she took another long drag on her cigarette.

“So...tonight you get your body back, huh?” Amaliya hated how quickly her last smoke was turning to ash. She wondered if one of The Summoner’s minions would go get her more.

Biting her earlobe, The Summoner growled, “Yes.”

“Will you be a vampire again?” Ignoring the hands wandering over her body, she slung her arm over his shoulders.

“No, something more. A god.”

“And Bianca? Me?” Amaliya tilted her head to gaze at him.

“What you are now.” The Summoner laid his hand gently on Bianca’s head. “Alas, our little one will have served her purpose.”

Amaliya narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“Are you fond of her?” The unemotional blue eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts.

“She’s part of us,” Amaliya answered.

“My blood is the key to ushering in the new world. I have no blood. It’s in your veins and hers.”

“What are you talking about?” Amaliya flicked the butt of her cigarette at the table with the rings.

The Summoner’s face showed his disapproval of her disrespect. “The spell to bring forth the new world demands the sacrifice of the necromancer’s blood that casts it. All of it.”

“So you have to kill yourself?” Amaliya looked at him with disbelief. “There’s no fuckin’ way you’d do that.”

“The reward is becoming a god once the abyss has consumed the world.”

“Oh, that you would do.” Looking down at the sleeping girl beside her, Amaliya tried to fit the pieces together. “If you use her blood, won’t she become the god?”

“It’s my blood in her veins. I’m doing the spell. I will be the god. She will merely...die.” The Summoner twisted his fingers in Amaliya’s hair and drew her into his arms.

“And what are you going to do with me?” Dread filled her.

The Summoner’s long fingers stroked her cheek and played along her full lips. “Keep you at my side. You are my most wondrous of all my creations. I want you with me.”

“Enough to let my family and friends live. Which I know is tough for you because you really like to get your killing on.” Amaliya wished she could read him, but it was difficult.

“Yes. Though my hope is that once you feel the death of millions imbuing you with power you will finally realize the folly of keeping them alive. They’re your weakness. Eventually, you will have to eliminate those weaknesses.”

Laughing, Amaliya shook her head. “God, you’re such a fuckin’ asshole in every single damn way.”

The Summoner moved over her before slipping between her thighs. Bianca didn’t stir, which made Amaliya suspicious of what he was doing to her. As his weight settled on her, Amaliya stared into the eyes of the man who had been her ruin and salvation.