Pretty When They Collide (Pretty When She Dies 0.50)

“The only weird thing about the trip was this girl I saw.”

“You met a girl?” Her mother looked keenly interested.

“I literally ran into a girl. When she touched me I felt...” Cassandra stared at her hand. “I felt magic.”

“Did you get her number?”

“Not that kind of magic. Real magic. Or at least I think it was.”

Galina cocked her head, her expression thoughtful. “So you didn’t get her number?”

“It’s not like that,” Cassandra said swiftly. “It was just odd. To feel that.”

Narrowing her eyes, Galina studied her daughter intently. “You liked her.”

“Mom! I don’t even think we spoke to each other!”

“You have this little glow though,” Galina insisted. “I can see it.”

Biting her bottom lip, Cassandra stared at the hand that the mysterious woman had touched. Though the sensation was faint now, she could still feel the slight tingle. “Honestly, Mom, I’m not sure what to think about what happened. It’s not like I’m ever going to see her again.” To her surprise, her words elicited a small pang of regret inside her.

Galina picked up her notepad and started a new notation. “Oh, maybe you will. If it is meant to be, it will work out. Maybe you will get a chance at the love I never had.”

“Mom, don’t say things like that,” Cassandra protested.

“No, no. I mean it. Maybe you’ll have good luck to even out all my bad luck.” Galina smiled at Cassandra lovingly. “A mother can hope, can’t she?”

“Of course.” Cassandra knew better than to argue with her mother. Besides she didn’t want to upset her. A certain spark had come to life in her mother’s eyes when Cassandra had mentioned magic. It had been a long time since she had seen her mother look so enthralled.

“Besides, a little magic might be exactly what you need.” Galina made stars around several words and underlined them. “I like magic. I wish I had some. I would wave my hand and make your life perfect.”

“Mom, it’s perfect. Right now, right here, it’s perfect.” Cassandra scooted down on the sofa and laid her head on her mother’s lap. Her mother’s gentle touch was soothing as Galina stroked her daughter’s hair. “As long as you’re happy, everything is fine.”

“Oh, I don’t like Felicity?” her mother said reading her latest notation, sounding mystified. “Why is that?”

Cassandra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “She cheated on me.”

“Oh! I need to write that down.”

Listening to the scratch of the pen against paper, Cassandra pressed her still tingling hand against her chest and sighed.

Chapter 8:

No Safe Havens

The warmth of the sun was slowly becoming an uncomfortable heat against her bare shoulders, but Aimee ignored her discomfort. Pulling another weed, she glanced toward the modern adobe multi-level house to make certain that none of the guards were spying on her. She hated when Frank sent his goons to watch her, especially when she was in the garden. It was the one place in the sprawling West Texas estate that she could claim as her very own. Frank was unable to enter due to the vervain she had planted along the edges. The vampire was under the impression the entire garden had an adverse effect on him and had no idea she had deliberately planted a barrier to keep him out.

The hot desert sun glinted off the mirrored surface of the windows and she adjusted her sunglasses to keep out the glare. The triangular sun shade stretching overhead gave her some respite, but allowed enough light to keep her plants healthy. Sweat trickled down her nose and she twitched it, since rubbing her nose with a grimy glove was not the best idea.

Dressed in her usual attire of a tank top and a flowing skirt, Aimee knelt in the soft earth tending to her plants. Her long trip abroad had allowed the weeds to get a foothold. Even though she had left detailed directions for Frank’s staff, she supposed she should take comfort in the fact they had at least remembered to water it in her absence. Her delicate rosemary plants were tucked along the wall and out of direct sunlight and looked a bit ragged. Rosemary was one of the most important ingredients in her spells and she felt like kicking a few shins every time she looked at the weary plants.

Body aching and still feeling weak after her battle in Vegas, she refrained from using her powers to check on the guards. Frank had poured protein drinks down her throat and a dose of his own blood in the aftermath of her victory over the black witch, but her energy reserves weren’t bouncing back like they once had.

Magic was energy. True witches could control energy and manipulate it to their bidding. Aimee used the energies of plants and other organic material to do her will. The right combination could pack a powerful punch. Yet it was her own energy reserves that she had to use as a catalyst to get the ball rolling. There were rituals she could use to revive herself, but Frank’s tight leash on her via his blood tie kept her from ever being at full power. Vampire blood was false life and it robbed her of the ability to reach her full magic ability. Maybe that was what Frank wanted. She knew he feared that she would one day find a way to break his power over her. At one point he had been arrogant enough to believe that she loved him enough to be loyal, but Aimee was certain he now knew the truth.

If she ever got the chance, she would escape.

An especially vicious little weed refused to give its hold up on the earth and she tugged harder. She respected its tenacity, but she wasn’t about to let it choke the life out of her sage. Digging at the gnarled roots, she couldn’t help but compare the weed to Frank. Frank’s roots were deep in the soil of her life and he was choking the life out of her.