Pretty When She Kills (22 page)

“We meet up here, right? After it all goes down?” Benchley asked.

“Yep. See you later. And good luck,” Jeff said solemnly, then began walking toward the Jeep, pulling Samantha behind him.

Samantha waved at the siblings. The matching somber looks on their faces reflected her own.

“We’ll see them again, right?” Samantha said softly when they were a few feet away.

Jeff glanced over his shoulder at his friends before returning his attention to her. She could see the worry in his eyes and willed him to lie to her. “I don’t know.”

Samantha sighed, then nodded. The truth was better to deal with than lies. Holding tight to his slightly sweaty hand, she let him guide her to the Jeep.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Sergio pulled his truck over to the side of the road near the edge of the ghost town of Fenton. In the rearview mirror he could see the hotel where The Summoner had taken refuge just a few months before. The sight sent a sliver of fear through him and made him shiver. Before the truck was a thick copse of trees that shielded a dilapidated farmhouse and overgrown cemetery from the eyes of any travelers on the narrow country road. The memory of the life and death struggle he had experienced there not too long ago caused his chest to tighten.

Shooting a worried look at his grandmother, he saw that she, too, was staring over the field with a fearful but determined expression on her face. Her tiny hands gripped her big purse crammed with holy relics. Twisting her lips from side to side, the older woman appeared to be concentrating.

“Grandmama?”

“It feels wrong,” she said, obviously apprehensive.

“What do you mean?”

“The cemetery. It feels wrong. It feels...empty.”

“But that’s good, right?” Sergio shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” Innocente confessed. “I can usually feel something of the dead when I’m near a graveyard. This one just feels like a void.”

Nervously, Sergio picked his phone up off the dashboard and checked the bars again. Now he was wishing he had brought a weapon. With no coverage, he couldn’t call for help if something went wrong. At a few stops, he had tried to use the convenience store business phones, but he had been rebuffed every time. They had stopped at a little barbecue place and he had tried to bribe the owner, but had met with resistance. It was annoying when all he wanted to do was check in with Cynthia and see how the kids were doing.

The rumble of another engine drew his attention to his side mirror. The big dark truck pulling the camper stopped alongside them. Pete rolled down the window and leaned out.

“Where is it?”

“Across the field. There’s a dirt driveway, but it’s mostly overgrown. I don’t know if you can get the camper up close,” Sergio answered.

Ethan’s face was shrouded in shadow, hidden by his sunglasses and his cowboy hat. “Then we’ll park at that hotel and drive up with you. Okay?”

Sergio nodded. “Okay.” Shifting gears, he backed up the road a little, then u-turned. Behind him, Ethan followed suit. He noticed Innocente’s deepening frown and reached over to squeeze her hand. “We’re doing the right thing. If there is the slightest possibility of bringing her back to life, we have to do it. We both know it.”

“I know, Sergio. I thought that maybe I would feel him in the cemetery…since he died there. But it’s so…empty,” Innocente sighed, then forced a smile. “Which is a good thing, I guess. I like the idea of him burning in hell.”

Cracking a grin and chuckling, Sergio agreed heartily. “Absolutely. That’s a great place for that bastard.”

The big truck drove up to the front of the old rundown hotel. The thick weeds and creeping vines were slowly tearing the building apart. Across the street, the remains of a gas station sat in the center of a weed-choked concrete pad. The cracked and broken asphalt made for a bumpy parking job, but Sergio was more unsettled by the hotel. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

“It feels empty here, too,” Innocente complained.

“But isn’t that a good thing?”

She shrugged, appearing unsettled. “I always feel
something
.”

Ethan and Pete climbed out of the now parked vehicle and strolled across the lot to the truck.

“What about him? Do you feel anything about him?” Sergio asked.

Innocente again wagged her head. “No, no. He just feels like another person. Nothing special. I don’t think he’s anything more than a man.”

“Then we probably shouldn’t worry,” Sergio suggested.

“You think I’m a paranoid old woman,” Innocente huffed.

“I think you’re a worried grandmother that wants to save her granddaughter.”

“Eh, true.”

Sergio unlocked the doors so Ethan and Pete could climb in. Watching them over his shoulder, he noted that Pete appeared just as uneasy as his grandmother. The thought of restoring his cousin to a mere mortal made Sergio very happy, but he, too, was plagued by niggling worries. Maybe it was because Ethan was so imposing with his dark sunglasses and rugged appearance. He reminded Sergio of a gunslinger from the Old West. His presence wasn’t comforting, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. At times, he didn’t seem quite real to Sergio. No, that wasn’t right. It felt as though Ethan was somehow standing outside of the world, watching them all. Yeah, that’s what it was. It was a little creepy now that he put his finger on it.

“Drive up to the old house and park behind it. I don’t want to tip off any passing locals that we’re digging up their cemetery,” Ethan instructed.

“Gotcha.”

Sergio drove the truck in a circle and headed up the road toward the turnoff. It was hard to see with the thick golden-brown wild grass drowning the fence, but he managed to see it in time. Turning sharply, he grunted as the truck bounced up the deeply rutted drive. His grandmother grumbled in Spanish as she clung to the dashboard with both hands. A few groans issued from the backseat. He tried to drive slow enough so they wouldn’t be tossed around inside the truck, but he had to go fast enough to not get stuck in either the deep ruts or the pasty mud at the bottom of some of the deeper holes made by a recent rain.

Finally he drove up to the old farmhouse where Amaliya and Cian had taken refuge from The Summoner. It was also the house where Sergio, Innocente, Samantha, and Jeff had been trapped by an army of the dead. The sight of it gave him the willies. The house was listing a bit more to one side than he remembered and a good chunk of the roof had caved in. Sergio wondered if it was the result of the battle that had happened there, or a recent storm. He couldn’t remember how the house had looked the night they had survived The Summoner’s attack.

“Park up behind those bushes.” Ethan leaned forward to point at one heavily overgrown area next to the house.

Sergio complied without answering. Now that they were at the spot where Amaliya had destroyed The Summoner, he was feeling more than a little spooked. His grandmother sat beside him, her rosary clutched in her fingers, her lips soundlessly moving in prayer.

“So this is where it went down?” Pete said, awe in his voice.

“Yeah, Amaliya killed him and saved Cian,” Sergio said, then realized he had inadvertently let a valuable bit of information slip out. He shot a look at Ethan and saw a flash of a slight smile.

“So she’s in Austin, huh?” Ethan shoved open the truck door, slipped out, and reached into the bed of the truck to grab the shovels.

“Austin?” Pete’s voice was thoughtful. “She always loved Austin. I should have known she’d go there. I hope she’s not alone.”

Innocente gave Sergio a warning look. They’d both agreed to keep quiet about Amaliya’s new life in Austin and about Cian. It was obvious that Pete was pining hard for her and neither one of them really knew what Amaliya would do once she had the cure. Would she try to stay with Cian? Or would she try to find happiness in a mortal life? Sergio knew what he was hoping for. It would be nice to see his cousin married with kids living a nice normal life. It would suck for Cian, but Sergio was never too sure about the vampire anyway.

Pete climbed out of the car and Sergio followed, pocketing his keys. Both of them snagged shovels and waded into the thick grass behind Ethan to where the mottled gray gravestones stuck out of the weeds. Sergio twisted about to give his grandmother a slight wave. She sat with the truck door open, clutching her rosary, observing their progress with a solemn expression on her face.

“So we dig up the bits of the big bad vampire, burn it, then find Amaliya and turn her mortal, huh?” Pete’s voice was full of hope and desire.

“Yep,” Ethan answered.

“Just like that?” Sergio asked.

“Just like that.” Ethan climbed over the remains of a wrought-iron fence and dropped into the graveyard.

“Seems so easy,” Pete remarked, wonder in his voice.

“Yep. Which is how I like things. Easy. No fuss, no muss,” Ethan answered. Walking through the dead grass, he searched for a gravestone. “Let’s start near the fence and hope we hit pay dirt.” Lifting the shovel, he slammed it hard into the packed earth. “Got a few more hours until sundown. Let’s make it count.”

Sergio already felt the sunlight pricking along his skin and the heat sucking the energy out of him. “For Amaliya,” he said, and broke ground with his shovel.

“For Amaliya,” Pete said in a prayerful tone.

Together, the three men began to dig.

Chapter 19

Amaliya tossed her waist-length hair over one shoulder and leaned forward on her elbows. The table wobbled slightly, sloshing the chai latte in her cup over the edge.

“Crap!” Amaliya exclaimed, fumbling for her napkin.

With smooth elegance, Professor Sumner blotted the spill with a few extra napkins. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Amaliya said, embarrassed by her blunder.

She was trying so hard to be seductive and failing. It was the third time she had managed to spill her drink while trying to be coy. PJ Harvey’s deep voice was singing mournfully over the coffee shop’s sound system and the clank of dishes being washed were the only sounds other than their conversation. The coffee shop was nearly empty, its mismatched chairs and leaning tables devoid of the usual students cramming for their latest exam, or writing a paper.

“We all make mistakes, don’t we?” Professor Sumner said with a charming smile and a wink.

“And sometimes they’re enjoyable.” Flirtatiously, her eyes lingered on his handsome face as she took a sip.

With the Easter break underway, most of the students were out of town visiting with family. Amaliya had just finished doing laundry so she could pack and head home when Professor Sumner had knocked on her dorm door. She had been surprised to open the door and find the tall man with the keen blue eyes and long blond hair standing in the hallway.

“Care for a coffee?” he had asked in his refined English accent.

Amaliya knew she was foolish to go anywhere with one of her professors, but she hadn't thought twice before saying yes. Now sitting across from him, she wondered how long it would take for her to get him into bed. There was something intensely magnetic about the man. He was not her type in any way, but there was something about him that made her want to crawl over the table and ravish him. Though he was dressed simply in black trousers and a blue shirt under a soft leather coat, he exuded raw power and sensuality. She watched his fingers caress the mug filled with steaming black coffee that he’d barely sipped from.

“So why are you taking Psychology?” he asked, picking up the conversation again.

“I guess I want to know why my family is so fucked up,” Amaliya answered, shrugging.

“Are you thinking about pursuing a career in the field?” He tilted his head as he set his hand on the table a scant inch from her own. His nails were immaculately groomed and a thick antique gold ring glimmered on his ring finger. The blue of the sparkling stone matched his eyes.

Glancing at her fingernails, Amaliya wished she had touched up the polish. “I'm not sure yet. I'm still not sure what I want to do. I thought about maybe going into counseling and helping kids who are grieving, but I don't know.” She rubbed her arm, caressing her tattoo under her thin black sweater. It was her tribute to her mother, long gone, long dead.

“You went through a loss at a young age?” His intense blue eyes never strayed from her face and she felt her cheeks flushing despite the serious topic.

“Yes, my mother. A little later on, my little sister. I lost them both to cancer.” Amaliya sipped her drink, trying to ignore the pain inside of her. It was hard to think of her deceased loved ones and not feel lost and alone in the world. Her family had never recovered from the death of her mother and it had fallen apart completely at the death of her sister.

“Death changes everything, doesn't it?” Professor Sumner said, his fingers lightly stroking her fingertips.

She raised her eyes to see that he was gazing at her contemplatively. “Yes, it does.”

The sound of a cup falling drew Amaliya’s attention across the room. Bianca Leduc was on her hands and knees carefully picking up the shattered remains of her cup. The girl lifted her blue eyes and met Amaliya’s gaze.

Panicky to be spotted with their professor, Amaliya quickly looked away.

Professor Sumner fully took her hand in his and his thumb gently rubbed her palm. “Have you feared death since then?”

Nodding, Amaliya swept her hair over one shoulder to hide her face from Bianca. “It just seemed so cruel for them to die so young.”

“Die young and make a good looking corpse,” Bianca said in a low voice, walking past their table.

Amaliya twisted in her chair to retort, but the professor yanked on her hand, pulling her attention back to him.

“Are you afraid to die young?”

Uncomfortable, Amaliya squirmed in her rickety wooden chair. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Why?”

“It’s morbid,” she said crossly. She didn’t want to think about her mother and sister dying. She didn’t want to think about death. The purpose of this date was to finally get her hot professor into bed.