Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

Alexia grudgingly allowed it.

Benchley tossed a stainless steel coffee mug over his shoulder. Cian snatched it out of the air before it hit Samantha.

“Hey!”

“I knew he’d get it,” Benchley answered. “Hit me up with some of that blood, too.”

“Is that clean?” Alexia asked worriedly.

“Does it matter?” Cian unscrewed the top before slicing his wrist open with his thumbnail.

“I guess this isn’t the time to worry about being hygienic,” Cassandra said thoughtfully.

The sound of the thick vampire blood spilling into the canister grossed out Samantha. Trying to ignore it, she leaned forward to view the map with the tiny red drop sliding over its surface.

Jeff was the first to sip the blood.

“Take three drinks,” Cian instructed, raising his wrist to lick the wound closed.

Samantha deliberately looked away when Jeff drank. He handed the canister across Samantha’s lap to Alexia. As calmly as if she was swigging a soda, Alexia took three drinks.

“Yuck,” was all she said before leaning forward to give it to her brother.

“Like communion, huh?” Benchley joked, then swigged from the canister.

Samantha frowned. “So sacrilegious.”

The van swung onto the shoulder again, scooting around a thick gnarl of big rig trucks rushing along the interstate.

“Watch it, Shark Boy!”

“It’s slowing again,” Benchley responded, then thrust the canister toward Jeff. “Put the lid on. There’s some left. I don’t need it on my floor.”

Cassandra darted around Jeff, grabbed the canister, and gulped what was left. When she finished, Cian handed her the lid. Screwing it on, Cassandra returned to her seat.

Samantha reached back to touch her hand. “We’re almost there. We’ll save her.”

The dhamphir gave her a slight smile. “I know.”

Again, Cian showed a softness that was rare as he gathered Cassandra in his arms and held her close. His daughter laid her head on his chest, obviously comforted by his affection.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Alexia cried out. “A tornado just set down at the 1604 junction!”

“What?” Samantha slanted over to see the smart phone. On Twitter there was a picture someone had snapped with their phone of a massive tornado tearing apart the overpass. Trucks and cars hurtled through the air.

“That’s where the temple is!” Benchley shoved his foot harder on the accelerator, the van sliding onto the grass bordering the shoulder. The van sped past the slowing traffic.

“It’s starting.” Aimee checked the map again. “Galina’s almost to the 1604!”

“The goo

d news is so are we and the traffic is going to slow her down, too!” Benchley swerved briefly onto the shoulder. His big arms were tense and his jaw was set.

Cold wind filled the vehicle with a loud roar. Samantha twisted around in her seat to see Cassandra and Cian were gone.

“Oh, shit.”

Cassandra clung to her father as he swooped over the traffic below them. She had never doubted that he could fly, but to see it in action was electrifying. They hadn’t even exchanged words before he’d torn them out of the van. It was a relief to have him so likeminded. They were definitely on the same page. Like father, like daughter.