Ashes (The Kindred #2)

Ashes (The Kindred #2) Page 34

Seeming to feel his gaze, she lifted her head. Sapphire eyes, identical to his, momentarily met his. Though there was loss in her gaze, there was little else. She had checked out of the hard reality of their lives years ago. She was not capable of handling much anymore; she sure as hell wasn’t capable of dealing with what her son was, or handling the loss of his life.

Chris swallowed heavily, knowing that not only had Cassie been completely orphaned by Lily’s death, so had he. He had not been close to his mother in years, and he had always known that he never would be again. But now he truly realized that in his mother’s eyes, he was already dead. To her, he was simply still breathing for a little longer; still walking for a brief period of time, but it would not be much longer. She had already dealt with the loss of her son, and was simply just waiting for it to come true.

Chris tore his gaze away from her, unable to handle the look in her eyes. Unable to handle the fact that she already thought him dead when he was still very much alive, and intended to stay that way for a lot longer. Dani and Melissa sniffled beside him; Cassie stiffened, her head turning slightly to look at them. Though her eyes were completely hidden, he could feel the full force of her gaze on him.

Her jaw was clenched, her face hard. God, he missed his Cassie. This girl sitting beside him was a stranger, someone that he didn’t recognize. This girl was so very hard, unyielding, unforgiving, and furious. All things that Cassie had never been. It was as if the real Cassie had been abducted by aliens, and this was the thing they had replaced her with. He hated to think of her as a thing, but that was what she was now. There was no trace of humanity in her anymore, no love.

His hands tightened even more as he fought desperately against the urge to reach out and comfort her. If she would just let someone touch her, someone comfort her and hold her, he knew that she could come back. But she would not allow such a thing. She wanted nothing to do with any of them anymore and it shattered him to realize that she was just waiting to die. That all she wanted was her revenge, and death. He wanted to bring her back, but he desperately feared that it was too late. Desperately feared she had been lost to him forever.

Hell, she didn’t even want Devon, the one person (well vampire) that had been able to bring her to life before. If she had shut Devon out, when Chris knew exactly how much she loved and needed him, then what hope did he have of reaching her? He had thought that Cassie and Devon’s love could survive anything. He hated being wrong.

Though, he still held out hope that Devon would finally be able to reach her. The only problem was that she would not let him get close enough to do so.

Cassie stood suddenly, drawing Chris’s attention sharply back to her. He was shocked to realize that the funeral was over. Cassie moved stiffly forward, dropping a single red rose on the coffin as it began to lower slowly into the ground. He followed swiftly behind her, dropping another rose down as the first shovel of dirt was tossed on.

Cassie flinched slightly at the sound of the dirt on the coffin. For a brief moment he felt a flicker in her walls, sorrow rushed forth to clash against the hatred. Chris’s eyes widened, hope sprang forth. He was reaching for her when he felt her walls slam back into place. Though he could not see her eyes, he felt her gaze raking him disdainfully. His hand wavered in midair before falling limply back to his side. Cassie lifted her chin as she marched forward, her head held high, her hands fisted as she moved gracefully through the departing crowd.

Though some people tried to approach her, she easily sidestepped them as she hurried toward the waiting limo. Most fell back, going to their own cars. He didn’t know if they would bother to come to the house or not. Cassie had been accepting of their condolences, but cool and distant. It was obvious that they had been put off by her.

Luther walked beside her, stopping briefly to speak with a woman before hurrying to catch up with Cassie, apparently unwilling to let her out of his sight for a minute. Chris didn’t blame him, none of them knew what she would do if they left her alone for long. Chris didn’t put it past her to take off on her own in search of Julian and Isla. No, they couldn’t leave her alone; if they did it was very likely she would die.

Mrs. Manz approached them, picking her way carefully around the headstones. Cassie reached the limo, sliding inside as the driver opened the door for her. “Christopher, Melissa, Danielle,” Mrs. Manz greeted, nodding to each of them.

“Mrs. Manz,” Chris said softly. Though many teachers, and the principal, had come to offer their support, none of the student body had arrived. Cassie had become the leper of the school, but Chris had still expected at least a few of her old friends to come. He had been wrong, and he hated them for it. Though his hate was nothing compared to the fire that raged inside of Cassie.

“How is Cassandra doing?” Mrs. Manz asked quietly, her gaze darting worriedly to the limo.

“As well as can be expected,” Melissa answered softly, though it was not true.

“What an awful tragedy,” Mrs. Manz murmured; tugging nervously at the sleeve of her black jacket. “Will you let Cassandra know that she doesn’t have to worry about her assignments until she returns?”

“We will,” Melissa said softly.

Mrs. Manz reached out, squeezing Chris and Melissa’s arms gently. Apparently if she couldn’t console Cassie, she was going to settle for consoling them. “Take care.”

They nodded as she hurried away, leaving them alone at the edge of the gravesite. Dark clouds had rolled in, the wind had picked up, and the air carried the scent of snow upon it. It was suiting that a storm was rolling in as it seemed to fit the moods of the people gathered around him. “We should go,” Chris said softly.

“Yes,” Melissa agreed.

Chris shuddered, huddling deeper into his coat, it was not the chill in the air that bothered him but the one in his soul. The sound of more dirt hitting the coffin spurred him into movement. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He needed to get away from here. But he also didn’t want to be near Cassie at the moment. He didn’t think he could handle her anger any longer.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice. She was his best friend, and she needed him. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

Cassie stood stiffly in her living room, unwilling to sit down, unwilling to move. Though not everyone from the funeral had come here, there were still enough of them to make her edgy and unsettled. Most of the people were from her grandmother’s church. Though she knew that they were her grandmother’s friends, she wanted them out of her house; she didn’t want any more people in her life.

They milled slowly about, eating the food that they had brought, conversing amongst themselves. They avoided her now, apparently having decided that she was beyond their reach, which she was. Melissa and Dani were standing by the dining room table, talking with a few members of the church. Chris stood by the fireplace, casting her worried looks every few minutes. Looks that aggravated her more and more.

She simply didn’t want his worry, his concern. She understood it, but she didn’t want it. Turning to the window, she stared out at the darkening night. Snow had begun to fall in spiraling flakes that floated lazily through the air. Though it had just started, it was already beginning to build on the lawns and trees. Trees that still had not completely shed their leaves as winter had come much sooner than expected.

Lights swung into the driveway as Luther pulled in. He had left shortly after the funeral, citing that he had a few things to take care of. He had been disappearing for brief periods of time since her grandmother’s death. Cassie didn’t know what he was doing, and she didn’t particularly care. There was nothing that she did care about anymore.

She watched as he made his way swiftly up the driveway, blowing on his hands in an attempt to keep them warm. She doubted that it worked. “Cassie, maybe you should eat.” She glanced back at Chris, shaking her head briefly. She had no appetite anymore. “You need to eat,” he pressed.

“I’m fine.”

He sighed softly before moving slowly away from her. She didn’t want to cause him anymore anguish, she knew that he was grieving for her grandmother too, but it was best for him if there was distance between them now. It would hurt him less when she was gone.

Her eyes scanned the dark night, though nothing moved she knew that Devon was out there. She knew that as well as she knew that the sun would rise tomorrow, the earth would turn, and she would still be dead inside. Cassie rested her palms against the cool glass, wishing for a moment that she could go to him. That she could hold him.

She knew that she wouldn’t feel so dead in his arms.

And she also knew that she couldn’t allow herself to do that. He was the reason her grandmother was dead after all, to forgive him would be a betrayal of her grandmother’s memory. To allow herself to love him again would only make what she had to do much harder. Her hand slid from the glass. No, there was no room for forgiveness inside her anymore. In fact, she wasn’t sure there was even room for her inside of her anymore. Not with the unending waves of anger that filled her constantly.

She almost welcomed the certainty of her death, almost welcomed the release that it would bring her. She just hoped that by the time it happened Chris and Melissa would have distanced themselves from her. She didn’t want them to be this devastated, this hopeless and angry after she was gone. Though she wanted a release from this deadened existence, she wanted even more for them not to have to feel this way too.

“Cassie.” She turned slowly toward Luther, ignoring the plate he held out. Sighing heavily, he lowered the plate. “Cassie, your guests are leaving.”

Her gaze darted past him to the line of people standing by the door. The only thing that got her moving was the thought that her grandmother would be disappointed in her if she was rude to them. She clasped hands, exchanged hugs, and murmurs and was greatly relieved when the last person filtered out. Closing the door behind them, she leaned heavily against it.

“Melissa and I are going to stay again tonight,” Luther said softly.

She opened her eyes; her vision was slightly blurry with exhaustion as she nodded. “If you feel you must.”

“We don’t want you to be alone,” Melissa said softly.

“I’ll be fine. Dani still lives here.”

Dani shifted nervously, obviously unsure how to handle the situation. “Do you want me to leave?” she blurted out.

Cassie shook her head, stepping away from the door. There may be little left of her, but she wasn’t going to throw the girl out on the street. “No, you can stay for as long as you need to.”

Dani glanced worriedly at the other three, not knowing how to take Cassie’s answer. It had not been inviting, but she had not been booted to the curb either. “I think it’s best if we stay,” Luther said firmly.

They weren’t worried about her being alone; they were worried about what she would do. She knew they watched her, knew that Devon was camped outside, but they could not watch her all the time. They would have to go home at some point, and eventually Devon would have to feed. And now that the funeral was over, Cassie had much more time on her hands to think about how she would get away. How she would carry out her revenge.

“I’m going to sleep.”

Though she uttered the words, she knew they weren’t true. She hadn’t slept in three days; she didn’t expect to sleep tonight. She moved away from the door, ignoring them all as she wearily climbed the stairs. She had become a bitch, a miserable cold bitch; she knew that, she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

But then, she didn’t care about much anymore. All of her caring, her love, her life had all been burnt away by the rage that now festered within her. There was nothing left inside her. It was best if she stayed alone, best if she kept every one away from her. It was better if they didn’t know how little there was left to her. Better they didn’t know that all that was left of her were smoldering ashes of the person she had once been.

A person she would never be again.