Pretty When She Destroys (Pretty When She Dies 3)

“Samantha!” Amaliya cried out, then dared to awaken her necromancy.

The bond between them instantly flared to life, darkness and light intermingling. In a split second understanding passed between them. Samantha closed her eyes and Amaliya shut her own.

Instantly the world of the ghosts opened before Amaliya. Tethered to Samantha through the fine sinew of their power, she released her physical form.

Amaliya’s body crashed to the ground, the sword slicing through the air to create an even greater opening to the abyss.

In the world of ghosts, she could clearly see The Summoner wrapped in Bianca’s slim form. Wings of darkness spread out behind Amaliya’s ethereal form as she hurtled toward Bianca. Samantha landed behind The Summoner and Bianca, beautiful in her otherworldly body. The Phasmagus grabbed The Summoner as Amaliya latched onto Bianca. In the spectral world it was clear that Bianca was close to death, which loosened her bonds to The Summoner.

Together, they ripped the two apart.

The Summoner gasped as he was torn from Bianca’s body. His astral body flailed between The Phasmagus and Necromancer, but in this world Samantha ruled. Amaliya released Bianca’s spirit body and seized The Summoner. Amaliya and Samantha dragged him toward the opening to the abyss. The sword had torn through both the physical and spiritual realm revealing the darkness beyond.

“No! No! You can’t do this!” The Summoner cried out, terror in his face.

“You wanted the abyss. You got it,” Amaliya snarled.

“We’re done with you,” Samantha added in her perky way. “Ciao!”

Together, they hurled him through the rip, his scream of horror immensely satisfying as his sprit vanished into the void.

“Finish it,” Samantha said, turning to Amaliya, her white eyes burning.

Opening her physical eyes, Amaliya scrambled to her feet and flung the sword through the rip in the air. It vanished into the abyss and instantly the tear vanished.

The wet, fleshy splatter of The Summoner’s creatures falling apart filled the eerie silence.

“Did we do it?” Alexia’s voice echoed in the massive chamber.

Amaliya ran to Bianca’s side and crouched next to the girl. Dragging Bianca into her arms, she drew her tongue over gash in her throat. It took several swipes to finally stop the bleeding, but it wasn’t healing.

Cian kneeled next to Amaliya. His shirt was in shreds and deep wounds were healing. “I’ll feed her,” he said, immediately opening a vein.

“I can’t let her die,” Amaliya said, stroking Bianca’s fine blonde hair with her bloody fingers. “I just can’t. Too many have died.”

His hazel eyes meeting hers, Cian nodded. “I know, Amaliya.” Holding his dripping wrist over Bianca’s mouth, he let his blood pour into her.

The cabal drifted into view one by one. The dhamphir was covered in blood and dirt, and a nasty cut was healing on her cheek. The witch was just as grungy and had a few scorch marks on her clothes and bit of singed hair, but appeared whole. Baptiste’s left arm hung limply at his side, a jagged spear of rock sticking out of his bicep. Jeff was dirty, but otherwise unharmed. Alexia was covered in blood and chunks of flesh.

“One of those things fell apart on me,” she explained seeing Amaliya’s look.

Samantha joined them, her eyes still glowing. A mantle of ghosts clustered behind her. Among them was Roberto looking very satisfied.

“Benchley?” Amaliya asked, fear creeping into her.

“He’s with Galina. They’re safe,” Jeff assured her.

Amaliya noted another was missing, too. “Eduardo?”

“He’s dead.” The coldness in Jeff’s gaze when he looked at her explained the whole story in one second.

“You killed him!” Amaliya gasped.

“He was a serial killer.”

Amaliya took a second to absorb that truth, then said, “Oh, that’s why I was attracted to him.”

“Serial killer?” Aimee exclaimed, the conversation finally registering. “What?”