Pretty When They Collide (Pretty When She Dies 0.5)(9)



Raising her hand, Cassandra stared at it. She could still feel the woman’s touch burning along her nerve endings. Whatever the other woman was, she was pure power. Resting her hand on her chest, Cassandra slowly exhaled.

“What the hell was that?” she wondered.

Remembering to hit the button to the lobby, she punched it with a trembling hand. As the car slid downward, Cassandra’s thoughts didn’t rest on her successful endeavor, but the face of the woman with the long bronze hair.





Chapter 4: The Touch of the Unknown



Aimee knew the second the stranger touched her that her world had changed forever. Within a few scant seconds, she memorized the woman’s narrow face with its strong nose, full lips, and hazel cat-eyes framed by thick chestnut waves that fell to a dimpled chin in a fashionable shag. The touch of the woman’s hands upon her bare arms elicited deep feelings of desire inside of Aimee that shocked, but also pleased her. A mystical power sparked between them, igniting bits of herself Aimee had long feared were dead.

Reluctantly, she released the woman as the guards shoved them apart. When the door shut separating them, Aimee wanted to fling her body against it. She belonged on the other side of the elevator doors and knew it to the core of her being.

Shaken, she stared at her dazed reflection in the burnished surface of the elevator. Frank’s touch on her arm startled her and she almost shrugged him off.

“Come along, witchy girl,” Frank said, sounding annoyed.

“Just fixing my hair,” she lied and made a fuss of tucking her hair back from her face.

“Now you worry about your appearance. We’re just picking up something from a courier, not meeting with a client.” Frank dragged her along behind him, his fingers biting cruelly into her skin.

Aimee hurried, trying to keep up with him. Frank was being his normal mercurial self, but she felt a pulse of paranoia. What if he had noticed her reaction to the other woman? She wasn’t even sure what she would tell him if he asked her what she had experienced. Aimee wished she could find a quiet place far away from Frank so she could process what had just occurred.

The long hall was empty except for two men. They were casually chatting outside of a room, but Aimee knew instinctively that they were guards. The dark power of a vampire infused both of them.

“Sir,” one of them said, noting Frank’s approach.

“Good evening, Ramon. Is Leonard ready for us?”

“He’s having dinner right now,” Ramon said swiftly.

Frank made a point of checking his watch. “By my estimation, I am just on time.”

“Yes, sir,” Ramon said nervously. He quickly rapped on the door. “Mr. Klein, your guest is here.”

Frank’s thumb rubbed the back of Aimee’s hand gently, but she could feel the tension in his body. He was anxious to procure whatever the courier was delivering. It peaked her curiosity. Their home was filled with many rare artifacts due to Frank’s collecting addiction. He had a deep need to possess the rare and hard to find. If he believed something was one of a kind, it became even more of a compulsion to collect it. Aimee did not fool herself into believing that Frank loved her for her personality or looks. It was because she was a full-blood witch and, therefore, just one more piece in his collection.

There was no answer from the other side of the door. Frank again checked his watch and scowled. “This isn’t acceptable.”

Ramon again rapped his knuckles against the door and raised his voice as he called out, “Mr. Klein, your guest is here.”

Aimee watched as Frank’s face began to flush with frustration. It was not a good sign.

Again, there was no answer.

Pointing at the face of his watch, Frank said to the flustered guards, “I don’t have the time for this. I’m on a schedule and I won’t tolerate delays. Open that door.”

Ramon and the other guard exchanged looks, then Ramon nodded. “Do it, Tyson.”

Tiny beads of sweat dotted the black man’s brow as he pulled out a keycard and slipped it into the lock. The light above the handle flashed green and Tyson cracked the door open. “Mr. Klein, your guest is here. Mr. Klein?”

“This is ridiculous.” Frank reached past the guard and shoved the door open.

Aimee recoiled from the sight of the moldering remains of a vampire on the floor on the far side of the suite.

“And this is definitely unacceptable.” Frank appeared personally offended by the scene before him.

Ramon and Tyson quickly drew weapons and cautiously stepped into the suite. Frank waved an irritated hand at his own guards. One of his men followed while the other two remained in the hall to watch over the vampire and the witch.

Aimee reached into her small evening bag and pulled out a protection spell. The dry bundle felt warm and reassuring against her skin. Frank craned his head to look into the suite, impatient with the whole process of searching it.

“It’s clear,” Frank’s guard said. “No one is in here.”

Stomping into the suite, Frank scanned the room. “Where is my package?”

“It doesn’t appear to be here,” Tyson confessed.

Aimee was escorted inside by Frank’s guards. The door shut with a sharp click. She drifted over to a chair and sat on the edge of the seat. Frank was in a volatile mood and she knew things could deteriorate very quickly.

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