There isn’t much in the sparsely furnished room. A metal twin bed is pushed into the corner, the thin blanket pulled tight and tucked with military precision. A rickety nightstand holds a half-empty glass of water and a stack of books, some new, some so worn the spines are unreadable. A single lamp casts a weak yellow glow that doesn’t quite reach the corners. Near the far wall, a chair sits in front of the window, and that’s where Cassian is, motionless, staring out over the New York City street below.
For a moment, I just stand there, taking him in. Cassian looks better than he did the night Shadow Striker was destroyed. Less like a ghost clawing his way back to the living. The hollow sharpness in his cheeks has filled out a little, and there’s color where there wasn’t before.
His dark hair, streaked with that faint red tint, falls loosely over his forehead and almost reaches his collar, and though his frame isn’t what it probably once was when he was in his prime, he no longer looks breakable. His build isn’t gaunt anymore, like it was at first, yet there’s still a hollowness to him, like strength that’s been used up and never quite restored.
Even sitting still, he carries the weight of centuries. Shoulders slightly stooped, eyes fixed on the city below, as if watching a world that kept moving without him.
The skyline stretches beyond the glass, alive and endless, but he only watches. I realize that’s how he exists now, experiencing the world from a distance, like life’s still happening out there somewhere, just not for him. I wonder, and not for the first time, what this all must be like for him, having endured centuries trapped inside Shadow Striker with a demon. It’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
“I won’t go back there,” Cassian says, acknowledging that he knows I’m there without turning to look at me.
“If you’re worried about being a prisoner again, we can protect you from the Society.”
“It’s not that,” he says, his voice detached.
I rack my brain, trying to figure out what an ancient vampire would want in exchange for his help.
“Do you need some more blood? I guess I can figure out?—”
“No,” Cassian snaps. He turns his head to stare at me, and his gaze is cold.
“Well, then, what do you want? You don’t want to go back, I get that, but there has to be something that’ll change your mind. Going through the gates isn’t an option, and we have to get Haven to the creature world to protect her. There’s a chance the Society will know what to do to stop the demon.”
“There’s nothing I want except to be left alone,” he says, and then turns back to the window.
My patience snaps and I kick the chair, sending Cassian tumbling to the ground. One second he’s blinking up at me from the floor with a look of utter disbelief, and the next I’m flying across the room, slamming into the wall, leaving a Becks’ size indent in the drywall before falling to the ground.
I shake my head, coughing on drywall dust as I try to process what just happened. It’s my turn to stare up at him in disbelief. He moved so fast I didn’t even see the hit coming.
Cassian stands near the overturned chair, chest heaving, a wild look on his face.
Dude might look frail, but he sure still packs a punch.
I cautiously lumber to my feet, watching the fight drain out of his eyes.
“Everything okay in there?” Talon calls from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, we’re cool,” I answer. At least now we are, having both gotten that out of our systems.
Steps sound as Talon retreats back into the kitchen.
“I can’t go back,” Cassian says again, pain and sadness radiating from him. “She’s there.”
“Who?” I ask, confused.
“Aurelia.”
It dawns on me who he means. The love of his life. If the stories are correct, he killed her in a fit of rage while under the dagger’s influence. That sacrifice stopped his reign of terror but also trapped him in the dagger for two millennia of torture.
“She’s not there anymore. She’s been gone for a very, very long time.”
He shakes his head. “She’s not gone. She’s everywhere. And nowhere. And I can’t stand it.”
He lifts his hands and buries them in his hair, squeezing his head as if that will somehow rip her memory from his mind.
I shouldn’t understand what he’s saying, but I do. He doesn’t know how to live without her, but her memory tortures him as well. Despite everything, I feel for him.
If only he could make the portal and stay here in the human world. But if he doesn’t come with us, we may never be able to get back. Even if the demon never gets Haven, it would still mean leaving a powerful and murderous entity on the loose in the human world. It’s been able to do plenty of damage by using people’s bodies. We can’t just run and hide, leaving the human world vulnerable to such a powerful and evil being.
