Rhiannon Frater - Pretty When She Destroys

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.”