Frater, Rhiannon - As the World Dies 04

by Beautiful Bitch

  Samantha peeked around the corner to see Amaliya's grandmother busily making breakfast with stuff she had found in the refrigerator and pantry. It smelled amazing and Samantha's stomach growled lightly. The tiny woman was dressed still in her Virgin of Guadalupe t-shirt. Approximately, four rosaries rested around her neck. Flipping over a tortilla, she shoveled food onto a plate and slid it onto the table in front of Jeff.

  “You eat. Once Sergio is up, you'll have to fight him for food,”

  Innocente said soberly.

  She then leaned over to spoon a few bites of scrambled egg into Beatrice's bowl. The little feline traitor purred loudly and slid around Innocente's ankles a few times before settling down to eat her delicacy.

  “Food is great, Innocente. And I know I can't stop you from going, but I had to say something.”

  Innocente waved a hand at him and set about making another tortilla, her tiny hands slapping the rolled dough into the correct shape. “No one can stop me once I get going. Not even that puto Summoner.”

  Samantha frowned to herself and tried not to feel left out. The scene in her kitchen was very cozy and she suddenly wanted to belong.

  Besides, she didn't want to be alone.

  She was still struggling with feelings of abandonment and betrayal when it came to Cian. She consoled herself with the knowledge that he was something more than she had ever imagined. Of course, she could not be certain, but she was pretty much convinced he had tried to be what she had believed him to be. A good guy with a human heart. But Amaliya had ruined all that. She had revealed not only to Cian, but to Samantha, that Cian was also a monster at heart.

  Sadly, she padded into the kitchen and fell into a chair. She noted that Jeff was wearing a less cosmetically pleasing prosthetic leg under his long shorts. His hair was scruffy and he was wearing a t-shirt with some obscure band on it. He gave her a little smile and scooped more food into his mouth with a tortilla.

  Without a word, Innocente set a plate in front of Samantha and returned to the stove. It was eggs with chopped up peppers, tomato and bacon with a big side of refried beans and some salsa.

  “Ready for the day?” Jeff asked her.

  Samantha shrugged and picked up a freshly made tortilla to eat.

  “No,” she answered truthfully and used her tortilla to snag some eggs and salsa. “I'm scared. I felt braver last night.”

  “Kind of settling in, huh?”

  She shrugged and rubbed her brow. “Yeah. If we don't find them before the sun goes down-”

  “We will,” Innocente said firmly from behind them.

  “Or what if they are already dead-” Samantha felt tears in her eyes.

  She wiped a tear away with frustration and shoved the food in her mouth.

  “They're not,” Innocente said firmly and ate from a plate she had on the kitchen counter. “I know it. He will want her power, too.”

  “Or kill her for having it,” Samantha suggested.

  “I think he'll be intrigued,” Jeff cut in. “I really do. None of his other children ever had anything like his power. He'll want to see what she can do and figure out if he can use her.”

  “But then, Cian...” She forced herself to swallow her food, but her throat felt dry and it seemed to get stuck. Gulping down some cold water, she felt more tears in her eyes.

  Jeff averted his gaze and quickly ate more food. Innocente fell silent, too. It was clear to all of them that Cian was no longer needed. And possibly dead already.

  Knowing she needed her strength, Samantha took another bite. She chewed slowly and tried not to look at her trembling hand. Last night she had been so full of bravado, now she was afraid.

  The silence continued until Sergio appeared in the doorway. “So,” he said rubbing his sleep-weary eyes. “We going to go kill us a bad guy or what?”

  Samantha looked up at him and she forced her hands to be steady.

  “Yep.”

  “We're going to go kill that vampiro,” Innocente declared.

  “I have always felt the need to play fast and loose with my life,” Jeff said with a shrug and a wry grin.

  “Then it's a plan,” Sergio said rubbing his hands together. “Oh, awesome! Fresh tortillas!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cian came to slowly. He could feel Amaliya's arms around him and her lips against his cheek. The excruciating pain radiating out of the silver dagger in his chest nearly plunged him back into darkness, but he forced himself to stay alert. He could feel his blood seeping away and his power with it. Slowly, he raised his head and saw The Summoner standing nearby, conversing with Roberto. The vision was startling, yet, somehow, he was not surprised. The betrayal was harsh, but he could endure it if he and Amaliya escaped. She had changed him more than he had ever imagined. It wasn't that she had returned him to his former self, she had made him evolve into who he was now: the Master of Austin. Before, he had lived in the city without care of anything other than his own safety. Now, he wanted to step firmly into his role and protect his cabal and his city. He felt reborn.

  He had made a fatal error. He had trusted Roberto.

  But now he had Amaliya.

  Turning his head, he caught her lips and the kiss was gentle and good.

  Her fingers slid over his hair and her eyes spoke of her emotions more than any words ever could. Looking down, he saw her terribly scorched hand and knew she had tried to remove the dagger. The weapon burned in him and he could feel it slowly killing him. With one hand, he slid his hand over his bloodied chest, then pressed it to her lips. Understanding, she quickly drew her tongue over it, taking his blood.

  “None of that!” Roberto darted forward with preternatural swiftness and jerked Amaliya away.

  Her tongue licked desperately at her bloodied lips as Roberto tossed her into the wall. She hit it hard and sank against it, her eyes tortured.

  “Now. Now. We were being kind and you took advantage of that,” the Summoner said in a put out voice, and kicked Amaliya hard in the ribs.

  Cian could hear them shatter. She spit up blood and fell forward onto the moldy floor.

  Cian looked down at the dagger and weakly drew his hand up to grip it and draw it out. Roberto was faster and hoisted him up off the ground and flung him into a table. Cian barely felt the pain as he impacted with the old piece of furniture. He was a furnace inside. He was dying.

  Two massive men, obviously dead, entered and reached down to grip him under his armpits. They lifted him up so Roberto could bind his hands. Cian felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness as the room kept altering around him.

  For a moment he saw The Summoner quite close, then the next he was standing over Amaliya.

  Darkness swirled up again, then Amaliya stood nearby her dark hair falling over her shoulders to her waist. She was wearing a blue-gray satin dress that matched her eyes perfectly. It had a Victorian look about it, but Cian had seen a similar dress just recently in one of the haute couture fashion shows on TV Samantha had been watching.

  “Dressing her up,” Cian mused. “Why?”

  “She looks more like a lady this way, don't you think?” The Summoner sat in a nearby chair, his legs crossed. “It forces a certain dignity to her countenance.”

  Amaliya looked toward Cian and she lifted her skirt enough for him to see her jeans and boots underneath. As usual, The Summoner was more about illusion than reality. Dressing her up was to make her unsure of herself and steal a bit of her identity.

  Slowly, Cian took in his circumstances. He was bound to a chair with cord and the dagger had been drawn out. The damage was still there, deep and painful, but he was no longer dying.

  Roberto lounged against the wall nearby watching the proceedings with a rather excited look on his face. Cian knew from experience that did not bode well for them.

  Several dead creatures stood about the room. Some were fresh, but others were quite old. Cian had a feeling it was yet again another show of power.

  Before Amaliya la
y a woman dressed in a very pretty pink outfit and high heels. She was freshly dead and smelled of warmth and liquor.

  “Now, where were we before he woke up? Ah, yes. Make her rise!”

  “I don't know how,” Amaliya said in a tired voice. Her silky black hair was hanging around her face and Cian could only make out the tip of her nose.

  “You defeated my creatures and now you can't raise this simple little corpse for me? I have a difficult time believing that.” The Summoner's voice was dangerous and cruel.

  Cian could feel the tension ratcheting up and knew the violence was coming. He had seen Amaliya's battle through the back window of the Lexus. He had seen her eyes glow with the power over the dead and how she had cast down the creatures that attacked her. He knew, just as The Summoner did, that she was powerful. But what he understood without a doubt, but The Summoner did not, was that Amaliya did not know how she had done it. The Summoner would take it as Amaliya being obstinate and it was about to get very, very bad.

  “I just don't know how I did it. Okay?” She lifted her chin and her hair swung back to reveal her strong features. Defiance was etched in her expression.

  “No, it is not okay. Show her it is not okay, Roberto,” The Summoner said in a cold voice.

  Roberto stepped away from the wall and drew out the silver dagger.

  The hilt was wrapped in his silk handkerchief. He stepped purposefully toward Amaliya and she shrank back.

  Cian knew what was going to happen, but Amaliya did not. He braced himself and clenched his teeth together.

  Roberto swung about at the last moment and drove the silver dagger deep into Cian's upper arm. Cian felt the pain explode within him, but he did not cry out. Amaliya's cry was pained enough for both of them.

  Roberto's eyes gazed deep into his former Master's with curiosity, then stepped back and bowed slightly.

  “Don't hurt him! I don't know how!”

  “Try!” The Summoner slapped her and pointed his finger in her face.

  “Try.”

  Amaliya fell to her knees, the big skirt puffing up around her and laid her hands on the girl's body. It wasn't hard to see her struggling to draw on her power of necromancy, but the girl remained unmoving.

  “Do it!”

  “I'm trying,” Amaliya cried out.

  The Summoner nodded at Roberto and Amaliya screamed just as the blade was buried into Cian's thigh.

  Again, Cian fought the agony and refused to cry out. He was weakening and he knew he could not remain conscious much longer.

  “Do it,” The Summoner snarled at her and stalked around her. His eyes were pure white as his power filled the room and his dead followers swayed in the waves of it.

  Amaliya again placed her hands on the girl and closed her eyes in an attempt to concentrate. The minutes ticked by and blood tears streamed down her pale face. The girl remained unmoving.

  “Roberto,” The Summoner said again.

  “No!”

  Cian saw Amaliya launch herself at Roberto and so did his former servant. Roberto turned and slashed at her. The blade caught her upraised hand and as she fell back, her hand swept over the room and her blood flew in an arc over both the raised dead and the corpse at her feet.

  Cian could not process what happened next. By this point, he was close to blacking out. He could feel the sun hovering at the horizon and the dead drawing into a tight circle around him. He could see The Summoner looking down at shock as the girl with the pink high heels and glossy dead lips grabbed his ankle. He saw Roberto's look of sheer surprise as the leg of a wooden chair burst through his chest, impaling his undead heart. And, finally, he saw Amaliya falling back to the floor, her eyes glowing pure white.

  Then he was lost to the darkness.

  ***

  Amaliya didn't know how she did it, but suddenly her power lashed out, gripped the dead in its thrall, and wrenched them from The Summoner's influence. She cried out in anger and pain, and in her cry were the orders that the decaying bodies obeyed. She wanted Roberto dead at her feet and the corpses moved to fulfill her desire as the dark, silky tentacle of her power filled them with life. The dead surged around Roberto, one of them impaling him from behind with a tree branch. The Cian's servant's eyes widened with horror before he tumbled forward. Several of the dead leaned down and fumbled with the hole in his back, then plunged their hands inside his body. As Roberto screamed, the dead pulled his heart from his body and silenced him forever.

  Scrambling to her feet, Amaliya saw the girl in pink attacking The Summoner while the dead surged forward to help her. Roberto, truly dead, lay abandoned on the floor.

  “No, Cease!” The Summoner ordered the dead, but they did not obey as they reached for him.

  Wrapping her hand with the stupid skirt's material, she grabbed the silver dagger from Roberto's hand and cut Cian free as quickly as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw The Summoner shove through the dead as he advanced on her. She hurled the silver dagger at her maker just as Cian tumbled forward into her arms. The Summoner ducked away from the weapon and the dead managed to trip him into their midst.

  Grabbing Cian about the waist, she heaved him up in her arms and dragged him toward the window. She felt so tired and drained, but they had to escape.

  An animated corpse flew past them and into the wall as The Summoner rose up and began to rip apart the risen dead. His fury was evident in his features and he bared his teeth at her. “Where will you go? The sun is about to rise!” He growled at her as he shoved the attacking undead creatures away from him.

  Amaliya didn't even answer. She shoved Cian through the musty curtains and out the window and followed him into the pre-dawn greyness.

  Gripping him under the arms, she pulled him along, his feet dragging on the ground. The sky was turning a pale blue on the horizon and elegant pink and purple clouds swept across the hills. As she struggled along, she glanced behind her to see no one pursuing them.

  Glancing toward the horizon, she could see why. The edge of the new morning sun was emerging over the tree tops. The Summoner was safe in the darkened motel. Though he was able to stay awake, he would burn in the sunlight. Just as they would if they did not get to shelter.

  Grabbing up the long skirt of the stupid dress The Summoner had made her put on, she lifted it over both of them like a cloak and tried to shield them as the sky continued to lighten. Cian stirred slightly and his legs began to carry him.

  “The sun,” he whispered.

  “I know,” she answered and tried to shield their exposed skin as they hurried along the rough terrain leading away from the abandoned town. They broke free of the overgrown foliage and into a golden field of grass. She looked behind them and considered trying to hide them in the trees, but she was sure the branches would not provide enough shelter.

  Across the field was the dark shape of a structure and she glanced warily toward the rising sun. It burned her eyes. She flinched and looked away. The gray of the morning was fading fast. Adjusting the heavy satin skirt around them, Cian's face tucked into her neck, she pulled him with her across the uneven ground.

  “Amaliya,” he said in a soft voice. “We'll burn.”

  “No, we won't,” she answered, and half-dragged, half-carried him.

  A soft morning mist flowed around them as they moved and she was grateful for the thick clouds sliding overhead. Maybe the clouds would buy them a bit more time.

  “The sun,” Cian mumbled.

  Determinedly, she kept moving. As they drew closer to the building, she made out its ramshackle countenance. It was long abandoned and appeared to be an old farm house. Grateful that she had kept her jeans and boots on instead of taking them off like The Summoner had wanted, she kept the skirt over their heads as they half-climbed, half-fell over the old decaying fence that surrounded the house. For a second, the sun caught Cian as he fell to the ground and he cried out in terror. She fell to her knees and quickly covered him. He reached out to her and she hid him in t
he safety of her dress.

  “We're almost there,” she said softly and urged him to his feet.

  Clutching her tightly, he struggled to walk with her.

  She now understood that The Summoner's power was in her. She had risen during the day before and she was bound and determined to stay awake. Cian was obviously falling asleep despite his attempt not to, but she would keep him moving. She would not lose him to the sun.

  Practically carrying him up the splintered steps, she heaved him onto the porch. He was nearly completely asleep. His body was a lead weight in her arms. The door was already partially open and she shoved it aside. The room beyond was full of debris. She dragged Cian inside and shut the door behind them. Sunlight was already beginning to pour through the east windows, filling the house with a soft morning glow. It also cascaded through the big holes in the roof and Amaliya fought back her panic.

  Cradling Cian against her, she moved with her head down, keeping the skirt of the dress over their heads and faces. It was in the second room down a narrow hall that she saw their salvation. It was a closet full of darkness. Avoiding the holes in the floor, she managed to maneuver through the room despite Cian's dead weight and shoved him into the closet. He fell into it and crumpled into a heap. She hastily followed him in and fell to the floor in exhaustion. Her hand found the doorknob and drew the door closed.

  The fear that The Summoner would send dead servants after them rose inside of her and she looked for a lock. There was none. To her dismay she saw there were cracks in the door that were wide enough to peer through or for the sun to pour through once it hit the West walls. She quickly struggled out of the dress and pulled her t-shirt down over her belly. She had only pretended to change out of her old clothes into the dress. She was glad for it. Sitting down on the floor, she adjusted Cian's body close to her and covered them both with the heavy satin. Then, she raised her hand and closed it over the knob.