“Sam!”
“I’m here!”
She ran past her boyfriend onto the front porch, then down the walkway to the drive. The air was freezing and damp. She had wanted to wear something dramatic for the epic final battle, but ended up grabbing whatever was first in her drawers and closet, which was jeans, cowboy boots, a long sleeved t-shirt, and her leather coat. Jeff’s reassuring footfalls revealed he was close behind her.
As soon as she and Jeff clambered into the van, Benchley punched his foot down on the pedal and the vehicle roared downhill to the opening gates. Samantha flopped onto the middle bench between Jeff and Alexia. The tech girl was busy on her smart phone. Behind them were Cassandra, Baptiste, and a very sulky Eduardo. Samantha wondered what was up with the coyote, but didn’t bother to ask.
Aimee sat in the front seat with a map on her lap. The magical glow emanating from the paper was comforting as was the tiny red dot that was making its way toward San Antonio. It gave Samantha the impression things were looking up for their ragtag cabal. Nestling her hand in Jeff’s palm, she glanced at her fiancée. He looked more imposing and tough than she’d ever seen him before, yet the sweetness was still there. Heart swelling with love for him, she laid her head against his shoulder.
“We’ll be okay,” Jeff said quietly.
“Of course.” She tilted her head to give him an encouraging smile.
Benchley shoved a CD into the old battered player in the dashboard, blasting We Are the Champions by the epic rock band Queen.
“Really?” Aimee said, glancing at Benchley and arching an eyebrow.
Benchley’s response was to start singing.
Alexia enthusiastically chimed in though her eyes never left the glowing screen, then surprisingly Jeff joined in, too. Samantha glanced over her shoulder at Cassandra’s somber face. The dhamphir’s lips were moving along with Freddie Mercury. Baptiste’s deep baritone was added in the next verse. Aimee raised her hand in a fist, singing in a lovely soprano voice.
Benchley turned the music up, then pounded on the steering wheel as he sang. Samantha giggled at the lunacy of it all. At last, she joined in, singing at the top of her lungs and slightly off key.
The van sped down the road toward Interstate 35 and the final battle.
Part Seven
The End of The World
Chapter 27
The Summoner’s cavalcade of black Navigators sped along I-35 toward State Highway 1604. The evening traffic was brisk and heavy on both sides of the interstate. The lights of the neighborhoods and business streamed past Amaliya’s window as lightning slithered in the dark clouds above. The heavy atmosphere outside was reflected within the SUV. Above their heads the rings glowed in the shape of the sword that would rent the veil and usher in the abyss.
“So, Etzli,” Amaliya said into the eerie silence.
“What?” The Aztec’s voice was clipped.
“Where’s your brother?”
“Dead. His usefulness ended when we used his blood for the portal.”
“You’re a real fuckin’ bitch.”
The sharp edges of Etzli’s profile were outlined by the flashing lights outside. Another emergency vehicle roared through the traffic on the way to yet another fire, accident, or crime.
“Don’t pretend you’re going to miss him.” Etzli’s dark eyes gleamed dangerously.
“I thought you two had a thing.”
“We did,” Etzli said. “Then The Summoner came to me.”
“So...you two?” Amaliya tilted her head to regard the silent form of Bianca beside her.
“Jealous?” The Summoner asked.
“No, no. The more the merrier I say.”
This comment drew an angry look from Etzli and a smirk from The Summoner.
“I noticed last night,” The Summoner said.
“Guess you weren’t invited,” Amaliya said to Etzli with a bright smile.
The Aztec woman pointedly glared out the passenger window.
Amaliya poked the driver, Gregorio. “Do you have a cigarette?”
As an answer, Gregorio pulled a pack out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Don’t smoke in the car,” Etzli ordered.
“It’s not like it’s going to give you lung cancer. Sheesh, chill out.”
Amaliya loved needling Etzli. It was very evident that the blood goddess was lower down on the totem pole than Amaliya and Amaliya had every intention of rubbing that fact in. Lighting her cigarette, she glanced out the window to see a family car whiz by, the back filled with kids. It sickened her to think of what would happen to them if The Summoner succeeded. The upcoming battle was for people like them. Amaliya wanted to survive, but wasn’t certain she would. Since she’d awakened, she’d been pondering everything she had learned about the powers at play. She had an idea of what she might be able to do to throw a wrench in The Summoner’s plans, but she’d have to wait for the perfect moment to strike.
The incandescence of the rings increased overhead. Amaliya puffed harder on her cigarette and ignored the trembling of her fingers. The magic around the sword writhed like snakes within the vehicle and she kept her own powers tightly wound inside of her. Using her necromancy would backfire since she was so closely bound to The Summoner. With him using both his powers and Bianca’s, it would be easy for him to snare Amaliya. It pissed her off that she had to abandon her death magic for this fight.
A light rain started to patter against the windshield. Ahead were signs announcing the 1604 exits. The area had three sharp loops and several flyovers that split off in various directions. 1604 encircled San Antonio and Interstate 35 was a major thoroughfare. The area was very busy due to holiday travelers and shoppers. All the cars sliding past the SUV were packed with people who had no idea that the sweet, innocent girl sitting next to Amaliya was possessed by one of the most evil creatures to ever walk the earth.
“It’s time,” Etzli said.
Gregorio rolled down his window, the cold wind blasting into the interior. Pulling out a pistol, he locked his grip on the steering wheel.
“What are you doing?” Amaliya demanded, surging forward.
The Summoner slammed her back into her seat, cracking her ribs from the force. Gasping in agony, Amaliya watched the next events in dismay.
Gregorio started to fire at the passing vehicles. Windows shattered, tires popped, and the cars began a crazed dance across the lanes as drivers panicked. Aiming at the oncoming traffic, Gregorio shot the gun multiple times. Chaos erupted on the other side of highway divider.
The Navigator swung onto the shoulder of the road as the 1604 junction loomed ahead. Amaliya fought against The Summoner, but he was much stronger than she was and easily pinned her to the seat. He had the combined powers of both him and Bianca at his call.
The SUV veered onto the hard packed earth encapsulated by one of the loops of the highway. The rest of The Summoner’s vehicles swerved off the road and parked in a circle.
Gripping Amaliya’s arm tightly, The Summoner pulled her from the vehicle and into the freezing drizzle.
“Why are you shooting innocent people? Isn’t it enough that you’re going to destroy their world?” Amaliya cried out.
“Observe,” The Summoner said, sweeping Bianca’s arm out dramatically.
All lanes of the interstate were clogged with crashed vehicles. The entire area had been brought to a halt. People were rushing to rescue the accident victims, darting around the battered cars. One car was on fire and some men fought the flames in an attempt to rescue the people inside. Panicked screams sounded above the wild honking of the piled up traffic.
The Sword of Lucifer floated out of the vehicle and grew brighter in the presence of the despair, fear, and death.
Choking back a sob, Amaliya unexpectedly felt powerless in the face of such destruction. People were dying and she wasn’t sure any more if she could save them. The rings pulsed with radiant golden power and it spread out over The Summoner’s group creating
a protective bubble.
“Trish,” Etzli called out. “It’s time.”
The woman with the masses of red curls stepped forward. Her maroon eyes flicked toward Amaliya, a sneer upon her lips.
“Don’t,” Amaliya begged, afraid of what came next.
The Summoner’s grip on her arm tightened to the point of crushing bone. The nearly complete Sword of Lucifer rotated above their heads, then pointed its tip at Amaliya, freezing her place.
Trish cupped her hands, one over the other, then began to rotate them in opposite directions. The night breeze started to swirl about in front of her, the dead grass flattening into a circle. Moving her hands faster and faster, the elemagus called the winds. Above their heads, the storm clouds stretched downward, answering her call. The funnel formed with a terrifying roar. Only the power of the sword kept The Summoner and his people safe from the fury of the winds. The screams of the people clustered around the accident site was lost in the terrifying bluster of the tornado.
Amaliya watched in terror as the overpasses trembled under the onslaught. Cars hurled over the rail to the ground far below while the tornado continued to grow and consume the center of the junction of 1604. Concrete crumbled and disintegrated. Long haul trucks arched through the air like toy vehicles to crash onto the crowded interstate below, crushing onlookers and cars.
Fighting against the power holding her captive, Amaliya screamed at the elemagus to stop, but the redhead barely acknowledged her cries.
The young man named Stark stepped next to Amaliya and grinned. “Wow. Talk about 3D end of the world epics.”
Benchley drove on the shoulder half of the way to San Antonio, the van speeds far exceeding the posted limit. Aimee continued to track Galina’s progress as the van barreled down I-35.
Samantha observed the red illumination of the rear car lights through the windshield, wincing when they kept flashing as the drivers braked. The traffic was slowing the closer they got to San Antonio. Emergency vehicle sirens sounded in the distance and she caught sight of a few speeding along the frontage roads.
The van left New Braunfels behind and charged toward San Antonio. Away from the town lights, the night was more ominous. The steady growl of the road and the loud rush of the wind wasn’t very comforting.
“There’s a ton of fires in San Antonio,” Alexia said somberly, scrutinizing her smart phone screen. “A lot of gang violence. Domestic disturbances.”
“All good news on a holiday weekend,” Baptiste muttered.
Samantha knew the elemagus was in a bad mood after failing to reach Rachoń. One of his cousins had admitted to Baptiste that there was a possibility that Rachoń had entered an agreement with The Summoner to protect Louisiana. Baptiste had been furious, but had no way of confirming the rumor since Rachoń wouldn’t answer his calls. Samantha thought that fact pretty much confirmed there was a deal between Rachoń and The Summoner. Maybe Baptiste had come to the same conclusion.
There had been no time to repair Benchley’s back window, so the plastic attached to it with duct tape flapped loudly in the wind as the van barreled along the asphalt. Cassandra kept checking out the windows searching for her father. The vampire had needed to feed to be at full strength. Cian had yet to make an appearance, but Samantha knew he’d show up. There was no way he wouldn’t fight to save Amaliya.
Eduardo was a dark cloud and Samantha was ignoring him. She didn’t like him anyway. She was still convinced that he was a serial killer. The way Jeff had been looking at his old friend all evening had her wondering if he may finally have found proof and believed it, too.
Closing her physical eyes, Samantha opened her other set to the world of ghosts. The Summoner had wiped out all the cemeteries around San Antonio, but Austin’s graveyards were heavily populated. Looking toward her home city, she saw the bright illumination of the apparitions. Roberto was gathering the specters into an army.
For months Samantha and Roberto had been cultivating a strong relationship with the sentient ghosts of the city. Though Roberto was an asshole, he’d actually done a very good job explaining to some very old, confused ghosts what was happening with The Summoner. Though Samantha could force the ghosts to obey, she’d rather they understood what they were getting into. Of course, the memory wisps would never understand since they weren’t sentient, but they, too, would come at her beckoning and fight.
“Everything okay?” Jeff asked, stroking her clammy fingers tenderly.
“Yeah, they’re on their way.” Samantha’s eyelids slid open and she smiled at Jeff. “I’m a bad ass, you know.”
Jeff kissed her gently. “I know.”
A sharp tearing sound startled Samantha and she whipped about in her seat to see Cian peeling back the plastic. He clung to the back of the van, his long hair whipping about his face. Cassandra helped him inside, then pressed the tape back into place.
“Hi,” Samantha said, waving to him.
Cian gave her a short nod, ignored Eduardo completely, hugged his daughter and kissed her cheek. Looking flush with life, the vampire shook out his windblown hair, leaned forward, and rested his hand on the back of Samantha’s seat. “How’s it going?”
“She’s a few miles ahead, but we’re gaining,” Aimee answered.
“Jeff, do you want to be infused?” Cian asked. He was all business, his hazel eyes hard as stone.
Jeff glanced at Samantha, obviously seeking her opinion.
“Do it,” Samantha said. “You need to be able to see everything that is going on.”
“Me, too.” Alexia cast a look over her shoulder at Cian. “That cool?”
“Absolutely.” Cian lightly ruffled her short hair, showing rare affection to the human.
Alexia grudgingly allowed it.
Benchley tossed a stainless steel coffee mug over his shoulder. Cian snatched it out of the air before it hit Samantha.
“Hey!”
“I knew he’d get it,” Benchley answered. “Hit me up with some of that blood, too.”
“Is that clean?” Alexia asked worriedly.
“Does it matter?” Cian unscrewed the top before slicing his wrist open with his thumbnail.
“I guess this isn’t the time to worry about being hygienic,” Cassandra said thoughtfully.
The sound of the thick vampire blood spilling into the canister grossed out Samantha. Trying to ignore it, she leaned forward to view the map with the tiny red drop sliding over its surface.
Jeff was the first to sip the blood.
“Take three drinks,” Cian instructed, raising his wrist to lick the wound closed.
Samantha deliberately looked away when Jeff drank. He handed the canister across Samantha’s lap to Alexia. As calmly as if she was swigging a soda, Alexia took three drinks.
“Yuck,” was all she said before leaning forward to give it to her brother.
“Like communion, huh?” Benchley joked, then swigged from the canister.
Samantha frowned. “So sacrilegious.”
The van swung onto the shoulder again, scooting around a thick gnarl of big rig trucks rushing along the interstate.
“Watch it, Shark Boy!”
“It’s slowing again,” Benchley responded, then thrust the canister toward Jeff. “Put the lid on. There’s some left. I don’t need it on my floor.”
Cassandra darted around Jeff, grabbed the canister, and gulped what was left. When she finished, Cian handed her the lid. Screwing it on, Cassandra returned to her seat.
Samantha reached back to touch her hand. “We’re almost there. We’ll save her.”
The dhamphir gave her a slight smile. “I know.”
Again, Cian showed a softness that was rare as he gathered Cassandra in his arms and held her close. His daughter laid her head on his chest, obviously comforted by his affection.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Alexia cried out. “A tornado just set down at the 1604 junction!”
“What?” Samantha slanted over to see the smart phone. On Twitter there
was a picture someone had snapped with their phone of a massive tornado tearing apart the overpass. Trucks and cars hurtled through the air.
“That’s where the temple is!” Benchley shoved his foot harder on the accelerator, the van sliding onto the grass bordering the shoulder. The van sped past the slowing traffic.
“It’s starting.” Aimee checked the map again. “Galina’s almost to the 1604!”
“The good news is so are we and the traffic is going to slow her down, too!” Benchley swerved briefly onto the shoulder. His big arms were tense and his jaw was set.
Cold wind filled the vehicle with a loud roar. Samantha twisted around in her seat to see Cassandra and Cian were gone.
“Oh, shit.”
Cassandra clung to her father as he swooped over the traffic below them. She had never doubted that he could fly, but to see it in action was electrifying. They hadn’t even exchanged words before he’d torn them out of the van. It was a relief to have him so likeminded. They were definitely on the same page. Like father, like daughter.
“It’s a blue Mini Cooper, white roof!” Cassandra shouted into the gust.
The long lines of vehicles stretched toward the violently swirling winds of the tornado ripping apart the 1604 junction. From their vantage point, the dhamphir and vampire could see the chaos clearly. The van would have difficulty getting through unless Benchley got very creative. As the drivers of the cars spotted the massive tornado consuming everything ahead, they were futilely attempting to get off the interstate and escape. Metal crunched and tires squealed as the cars collided. The frontage, shoulder, and the swatch of land between them were cluttered with cars and people. Some people simply abandoned their vehicles and ran.
Shrouded in shadows, no one saw the two people flying low overhead seeking out one car among many. Cassandra didn’t have time to enjoy the thrill of the flight since she was so anxious to spot her mother. The cold rush of air tore at her hair and clothes as their speed increased.
Pretty When She Destroys Page 31
