Frater, Rhiannon - As the World Dies 04

by Beautiful Bitch

  “That would be very kind of you,” he answered and slowly walked around the car. He settled in as she pulled the seatbelt over her lap and chest.

  “I had a good time last night, but I definitely drank too much,” she said as she turned on the car.

  He knew she was working up to apologizing for not remembering him.

  “I'm afraid I did too. I went to IHOP for three hours trying to sober up. I barely remembered your name.” He gave her a charming smile.

  She laughed with relief. “I really don't remember you either. I guess because we don't live on the same floor I haven't seen you before.”

  “I'm sure we'll see more of each other now,” he assured her.

  The tiny sports car zipped up the streets as she made her way back to the apartment building in a roundabout way forced by all the one way street signs.

  “That would be cool. I was thinking of doing a barbecue for some people in the building,” she said, and turned onto the ramp leading into the parking garage.

  “That sounds quite lovely,” The Summoner decided. “I do enjoy socializing.”

  She quickly swiped her card and the gate slowly lifted. The little car zipped up the ramp and she maneuvered to the correct level. “Me, too. I mean, hell, you're only young once. Might as well enjoy it.” She turned the wheel and the car slid easily into her parking slot.

  Climbing out of the car, The Summoner could feel the exquisite pleasure of the hunt ratcheting up. The pretty girl with her swinging blond hair and firm body came around the car and headed toward the elevator.

  “I'm kinda glad you were walking back. Kinda needed a second set of eyes. God, the cops are so cracking down on people driving drunk.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know it's dangerous, but sheesh. It's like the gestapo.”

  She punched the button for the elevator and he stepped up next to her.

  “One of the annoyances of life and going out. Trying to outwit the authorities.”

  “I remember when I had a fake ID. That seemed so dangerous.” She laughed.

  The doors opened and she hopped inside.

  He deliberately waited.

  “Coming?” she asked.

  “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable,” he said smoothly. He waited calmly for his invitation into the elevator, and thus into Cian's little world.

  “Come on. We can share an elevator. We're practically old friends.

  Get in. Come on,” she laughed coyly. It was now obvious she was flirting with him.

  The Summoner stepped into the elevator. As the doors shut, he reached out and banged the back of her head hard into the elevator wall. She crumpled without a sound. Leaning down, he picked up her key card and keys and pocketed them. Tucking his hand under her hair to grasp her neck, he lifted her up so she was leaning against him.

  He could feel her heart beating against his chest. It was a delicious sound.

  ***

  The walls were up for now, allowing them a spectacular view of the slowly rousing city of Austin. The sky on the horizon was turning lighter shades of purple and blue. Amaliya could feel the night washing away as the sun rose. She was curled up under the covers of the bed with Cian's arms around her.

  Cian kissed her shoulder and rose up to sit beside her. “We'll have to close it soon,” he said.

  “It makes me sad, you know,” she said softly. “Never being able to see the sun again.”

  His hand slowly slid down her arm and he rubbed his fingers over hers. “I know.”

  “I don't remember the last time I saw it. My last moment of seeing daylight happened and I didn't even realize it was important,” she said with her voice full of regret.

  “I remember the green of the sugarcane fields and the sun glittering off the white shores as the sun set beyond the edge of the ocean.” His memory tinged his voice with sadness. “I didn't know it was my last day as a mortal, but I stood there wondering what Ireland looked like.

  At that point, I could hardly remember anymore.”

  He had told her his own story in the aftermath of their lovemaking. It had broken her heart.

  Amaliya rolled onto her back and stared up at him. “Do you want to go back to Ireland?”

  “Some days,” he admitted. “But then I remember that my family is long dead and my village long gone and that there is nothing there for me anymore.”

  “I always feel there is nothing for me,” Amaliya confessed. “Like I belong nowhere. That I am always the visitor, the outsider, never part of the inner circle.”

  “Is that why you always run?”

  Amaliya frowned at him, but nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Always running to something, I guess. Just not sure what it is.”

  He leaned over her, his leanly muscled chest smooth and cold to her touch. “Stay this time. Don't run.”

  Amaliya was afraid of his request and she couldn't answer. She always ran away. It was her nature. When things became overwhelming, she always ran. But she had to admit, for the first time in her short life, after having sex with someone, she had not rushed away as soon as it was over.

  “Amaliya,” he said again softly.

  She pushed herself up onto her elbows and kissed him. Her lips caressed his and she playfully licked the tip of his tongue. It was her way to shut him up and avoid the conversation going in the direction she did not want it to go.

  Distracted, Cian kissed her passionately and pushed her back down into the bed. Just as the sun was about to break the horizon, he fumbled for the controls and lowered the walls.

  Chapter Twenty

  Roberto cast a disdainful look at Cian's sleeping chamber. Amaliya's phone and car keys were right where he had left them the night before.

  His Master was a complete idiot and Roberto was disgusted. Sliding off his jacket, he slung it over a chair and went into the kitchen to make himself some coffee. The sun was low over the horizon and the loft was awash in morning light. It was refreshing to his senses after sulking around the Magnolia Cafe all night. He had tried to amuse himself with a book, but had ended up sipping endless cups of coffee and contemplating leaving Cian.

  Of course, if he did that, he would begin to age again and eventually die. He was not ready to do that. His relationship with Cian was always a bit odd. They had come together out of necessity. Cian needed shelter; Roberto wanted to live forever. For years they had enjoyed the wild life in Mexico, living rich and fine among the vampires there. They had what Roberto considered adventures until the modern age gripped hold of the world and drove it into the boring reality it was now.

  Cian was happy to stay secure in Austin and build up his mini-empire.

  Roberto had hoped that one day they would strike out again to new territory, but he could not be certain now. Cian's obsession with being normal and human had dissipated now that Amaliya was on the scene.

  That was quite a relief, but it was clear that he was changing into someone Roberto did not know.

  Cian was not reverting to the man he had been before. Roberto had found Cian beaten down, nearly destroyed by the vampire hunters. A man who was broken and without a home. Roberto felt he had helped cultivate the former slave into an educated and sophisticated man.

  But now Cian was changing and this time Roberto was not certain that he could influence his Master, nor keep his elevated position in his life.

  Amaliya had changed everything.

  Rubbing his brow, he felt the need for more coffee. He rarely slept, but he was tired now. But he refused to sleep until he sorted out his thoughts and devised a plan of action. Obviously his plan from the day before had failed miserably. He had not been able to be rid of the interloper and now Cian was being an absolute fool.

  He poured the coffee slowly into a cup and frowned as he stared into the dark liquid reflecting the morning light. He should have convinced Cian to kill Amaliya the very first night he brought her to the apartment. Now he was uncertain of what to do. He was tied to Cian unless he found another alterna
tive to secure his immortality.

  He would miss his time with Cian. For years he had loved Cian as a brother, but then again, he had killed his real brother long ago. Love and hate were not so different when passion was involved.

  The doorbell rang and he arched an eyebrow. It rang again a few seconds later and he gently laid the cup on the counter. He slowly walked down the hallway, curious as to who could possibly be at the door. Neither he nor Cian was particularly social and Samantha had her own key.

  Peering through the peephole, he saw one of the pretty blonds that lived in the building waiting in the hallway. Roberto had spoken to her on occasion. He had figured out swiftly that she was more interested in his elusive master than in him. It had disappointed him for he thought her breasts were wonderful and in need of caressing. He was very surprised to see her lingering outside their door.

  Removing the chain and unlocking it, he slowly opened it. “Heather?

  Can I help you?”

  She looked a little unsure of herself for a second, then raised the gun and shot him in the chest. “No, I have it covered.”

  ***

  The two dead homeless men The Summoner had sent to help her, stepped out from around the corner, and moved to gather up Roberto's body.

  Somewhere in Heather's muddled mind, she was screaming, but the rest of her thoughts were consumed with The Summoner and his commands. He was powerful and she must obey his power. She could feel him, in her apartment, waiting for her. He didn't have to sleep anymore. He had said he was beyond that now and his legions walked both the day and the night.

  She wasn't dead yet. She had wondered at first if maybe she was dead. But her heart was still beating unlike the two huge men busy wrapping Roberto up into the hallway rug. Those two men were truly dead. She rubbed the gun against her leg nervously.

  What she was doing was wrong, right?

  She wasn't sure anymore.

  The Summoner called out to her through the darkness of her mind and she moved toward the elevator. Looking down at the gun, the thought of shooting him flickered through her mind. But he needed her. He had told her so.

  She needed to obey him. Serve him. Love him. Until he killed her.

  ***

  Sergio was intent on sleeping in. It was Saturday morning and his wife had taken the kids to visit her relatives. Because he had to work a double shift the night before, he had been given a reprieve from his glowering mother-in-law. She absolutely hated him because of his Mexican blood and he absolutely hated her because she was a bitch.

  He had woken up long enough to kiss his kids and wife goodbye, then had collapsed onto the sofa to sleep the morning away.

  As he dozed, he was dimly aware of the cat lying on his back, kneading his shoulder as her tiny claws lightly scratched him. The sound of the neighborhood kids playing outside tried to pull him from his light slumber and he grumbled. He'd give anything for there to be Saturday morning cartoons again so the kids would be inside being little TV

  zombies. Then at least he could sleep deeply.

  A loud banging on his front door made him jump. The cat yowled and drew blood as she scampered off.

  “Thanks a lot, Tinkerbell,” he muttered, and wondered why he had let the kids name the cat.

  Grumbling, he sat up and stared at the door. There was no one visible through the glass panes set in the door in the shape of a fan. Deciding he must have dreamed the banging, he lay back down.

  The door shook as the banging started again. This time his grandmother's voice joined the harsh knocks.

  “Sergio! Sergio! Open the door!”

  Blinking, he sat up again and rubbed his eyes. “Grandmama?”

  “Open the door!”

  Pulling his undershirt down over his stomach, he staggered to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open.

  His tiny grandmother stood on the stoop clutching her big tote bag with the flag of Texas on it. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe on it and her tiny feet were tucked into bright pink sneakers. “Get dressed. We're going to Austin.”

  “Huh?” He rubbed his eyes again and tried to figure out why his grandmother was bugging him on a Saturday morning at the ungodly hour of nine AM.

  “Amaliya hasn't answered her phone in two nights and something is wrong. Get your gun.”

  “Grandmama, I want to sleep in,” he muttered, and was shoved aside as she barged in.

  “No time to sleep.”

  “Hey, why do I need a gun?” He shut the door and stared at her in confusion. Sergio's muddled brain couldn't take all this in quite yet and he sat down in his recliner, blinking tiredly.

  His grandmother sat down on the sofa and the cat instantly appeared on her lap. “I gave Amaliya that phone.”

  “Right.”

  “And she called me and told me about this Cian.”

  “The Key Inn?”

  “No. It's a name. Cian. Anyway, she said he was going to help her. But she hasn't answered her phone in two days and now I am worried.”

  “You know, Grandmama, technically, she is already dead,” Sergio said timidly. The events of the other night still haunted him and he tried hard not to think of it too much.

  “I don't care. She's alive in a new way,” his grandmother answered.

  Her lips set into a firm little line as she lifted her chin. “And we're going to go find her and save her.”

  “Grandmama, I don't mean to upset you, but Amaliya is not the most reliable person in the world.”

  “Maybe not. But she's our blood. And she is my granddaughter and your cousin and we protect family.”

  Sergio looked at her through bleary eyes trying to figure this whole thing out when something occurred to him. “Hey, how did you get here? She took your car!”

  “My boyfriend brought me,” his grandmother answered primly.

  “You have a boyfriend!” Sergio suddenly felt very awake. “You have a boyfriend?”

  “Yes, I do.” His grandmother rubbed the cat under her chin vigorously and made soft noises to the furry creature as she obviously ignored Sergio's reddening face.

  Sergio waited a beat, then said explosively, “Who?”

  “Juan Carlos.”

  “The old guy who rides around on the moped. He brought you over on the moped?”

  His grandmother rolled her eyes and pointed at him with a gnarled finger. “Get dressed. Get your guns. We're going to Austin.”

  Sergio leaped to his feet. Not to run for his gun, but to look out the window. “Where is he?” He had a strong desire to go outside and shake the old guy and threaten him something good.

  “He left. I told him you would take me to Austin. But we need to go to my house. I have my stuff packed.”

  Sergio blinked and turned to look at his sweet, tiny grandmother. He knew she was feisty, but he was realizing she had this whole other life he was not aware of. “You have a boyfriend and didn't tell me.”

  “I didn't think you'd be okay with me having sex,” she answered.

  “Oh, God! I don't want to hear it, Grandmama!” He covered his ears with his hands and stood staring at her in disbelief.

  “I told you. You're such a wussy,” she said with a sad shake of her head.

  “I am not. You're just...” he stammered to a halt. Calling his grandmother an old woman would get his ass kicked. So he clamped his mouth shut.

  She smiled at him victoriously, seeing she had the upper hand. “Now, go get dressed. We need to go save Amaliya.”

  Sergio rubbed the top of his head with one hand and frowned.

  “Nothing I say or do is going to keep you from going to Austin, right?”

  He could feel himself giving in despite his tiredness and his desperate desire to crawl back onto the sofa and sleep.

  “I'll steal your truck while you sleep if you don't go with me,” she answered truthfully.

  “Fine! I'll get ready!” Stomping out of the living room, he couldn't help but smile an
d by the time he was in the shower, he was laughing.

  ***

  Amaliya woke up first and stretched with a soft yawn. She felt a little hungry and she rolled over onto Cian and lightly bit his neck. He woke up with a start, then wrapped his arms around her. Teasingly, she held his flesh between her teeth, but didn't draw blood. He ran a slow, seductive hand up over her back. She let go of his skin to kiss him. It felt wonderful considering everything that had happened the last few days and she let herself enjoy the tenderness of it.

  “I'm hungry,” he said in a low voice, and pushed her gently off him.

  “We both better feed.”

  With a little growl, Amaliya sat up and ran her hands over her hair to smooth it down. Cian rolled over and opened the wall. It slid upward and revealed the young blond woman from the elevator the night before sitting in a chair. She had been waiting for them to awaken and she sat with her legs crossed. Her hand was resting on the gun on her lap.

  “Heather?” Cian's expression was just as confused as Amaliya felt.

  “I didn't want to do it, you know,” she said in a strangely monotone voice. Her eyes were oddly jittery as she sat there looking pretty in her jogging outfit.

  “Do what?” Cian asked in a low voice.

  Her eyes continued to waver strangely as she forced them to look at him. “I shot Roberto.”

  Cian nearly launched himself off the bed, but Amaliya caught hold of him and drew him back.

  “It's The Summoner,” Amaliya whispered to him.

  “He made me after he...he...” she touched the back of her head with her hand. “I should be dead. I hit the wall so hard. I can feel the cracks in my skull, but I'm not dead. He won't let me die.”

  Amaliya slowly slid to the end of the bed and set her feet on the floor.

  She tried to pull on that dark power within her and sling it around Heather to bring her under her control, but it sat dormant inside of her, unmoving.