Inferno (Page 28)

Slamming into him, she pulled him backward, shoving him into Joey, and the wall. She fell against the one good door, slumping slightly as she tried to catch her breath. Her father’s furious eyes blazed into hers. He grabbed hold of her, trying to pull her away, but she shoved him off refusing to let him near the door again. “No,” she hissed again. “You will not get away that easy.”

“You have no right!”

“I have every right!” she snapped back, smacking his hand away when he reached for her again. “You have no right to be free! Look at what you have done here, the atrocity that you have created. This world is far better without you roaming it!”

He shrank back slightly, and then hatred and fury blazed forth in his eyes. “You have no right to judge me you traitorous bitch!” he spat. “You’ve turned against your own kind. You’re an abomination, a monstrosity. A nothing!”

Cassie felt as if she had been slapped, she recoiled from him, pressing tighter against the door. She wanted to cower from his words, wanted to deny them, but there would be no reaching him, no reasoning with him. He believed what he believed, and he always would, no matter what her relation to him was. Before she could say anything more, he reached out and slapped her with the full force of his might. Cassie gasped her hand flying to her cheek as her head snapped to the side. Tears of shock and pain flooded her eyes, but she blinked them rapidly back as she gazed hatefully back at the stranger across from her. Because no matter what he said, he was not her father, he was a stranger.

Straightening away from the door, Cassie glared hatefully back at him. “Think what you want about me, I don’t care because you are nothing to me also. But you will not leave here, and you will not be set free in this world again. This nothing will make damn sure of that!” she snarled.

His eyes widened in surprise as he took a small step back. Devon leapt out of the stairwell, skidding to a halt at the top of the stairs. His eyes were the color of fire, fury radiated from him as he raked Joey and her father with a scathing glare. “Are you ok?” he demanded.

Cassie nodded, knowing that the red mark on her cheek could easily be explained by the attack below. She had no doubt that Devon would kill her father if he learned that the man had just slapped her. “Are they locked in?” she asked softly.

“Yes, but I don’t know for how long. We need to get out of here.” He strode toward her, shoving her father and Joey out of the way. His eyes latched onto her reddened cheek. “What the hell happened?” he demanded.

Cassie shook her head as Julian, Dani, and Chris reached the landing, their arms laden with boxes of supplies. “That thing down there,” she muttered, not able to look at him as she uttered the lie. “Let’s help them.”

Devon tried to stop her, but she dodged his grasp as she hurried forward to take two boxes from Dani. She could feel Devon’s gaze burrowing into her back, but she didn’t turn to look at him again. “Cowards,” Dani hissed at Joey and Derek.

“Most definitely,” Cassie agreed.

CHAPTER 8

Cassie sat by the window, her legs drawn up against her chest, her chin resting upon her knees as she stared at the silent street. The sun had come up a few hours ago, but she had yet to speak since they had arrived back here. There was too much to ask, too much to know, and she didn’t want to know any of it. She was tired of being surprised, tired of being blindsided by fate, and she was very tired of being betrayed by those that were supposed to protect her.

She turned her head, resting her cheek on her knees as she stared across the room at the man that claimed to be her father. She had never known him, but she had once loved the idea of him, the image of what she had wanted him to be. This man was none of those things, and she greatly wished that she had never had the displeasure of meeting him. She greatly wished that he had died in The Slaughter like he was supposed to have.

He stared back at her, his eyes narrowed, but ringed with bags from lack of sleep. His arms and legs had been tied to the chair, there would be no escaping for him, and she would make sure of that. She turned away from him, tightening her grip on her legs. In the far back she could hear murmured words, and from down below she could hear the whispers of Devon and Julian’s conversation. Joey had been tied up and placed downstairs, it had been decided that it was best to keep the two of them separated.

No one was out here with her, having moved slowly away after the first few hours of her not speaking. That was something that was mirrored within her father, as he had not said a word either, despite Luther’s incessant, demanding, and furious questions. He had remained as silent as she had through it all. Cassie had the odd feeling that he would speak to her, if she asked, but she was not willing to ask. Not right now anyway.

Shadows played off of the street, skeletal branches danced across the pavement. It looked so lonely and eerie out there, so cold and desolate. There was no sign of life, not even a bird chirped in the distance. “My grandmother used to talk about you and my mother once in awhile,” she said softly, finally. “Apparently she didn’t know you very well.”

He remained silent for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he studied her. “Where is Lily?” he inquired.

A pain tugged at her heart, guilt and loss swamped her for a brief moment. “Dead.”

He grunted softly. “And I’m sure that it was one of these monsters.”

Cassie turned slowly toward him, despising the sight of him. They stared hard at each other for a long moment. “No, it was another monster.”

“And where is that one?”

Cassie swallowed heavily, her hands fisted against her legs. “She’s dead. I killed her. A fact that I am sure Dani has already informed you of.”

He stared hard at her for a moment, his eyebrow quirked in what appeared to be amusement. “You have your mother’s spirit. Though I’m sure she is better off dead than seeing what you have become.”

Cassie recoiled, not wanting him to see her distress she turned her attention back to the deserted street, feeling almost as empty and desolate as it looked outside. “My grandmother was very proud of me, for everything that I did. She accepted Devon, she welcomed him into her home, and she welcomed him into our lives. She loved me, and she was proud of me, and she was the best person I have ever known. She would not be proud of you however. She had loved you like you were her own son, and she would despise everything that you are now. I am not ashamed of myself, of what I am, or who I love, but you should be.”