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“That’s what I’d like to know. Sometimes it’s who they were. Sometimes it’s how they died.” Cassie licked her lips again. She was returning to normal, too. Her other hand was so close to slipping free. “She’s dead and buried in California, but her spirit was here in Chicago. That’s a long way to travel, and she wasn’t even haunting you. She was following me. That’s why I could only see a shadow. She spent so much of her energy trying to contact me, she became a shade of herself. She was too far from her place of unrest to go back. She had to make her final contact count. And she did.”
“Reed could’ve told you any of this. I’m still not convinced.”
“You prayed over her grave. She thought it was a strange thing for an assassin to do.” Cassie let her words sink in. “Reed had left, crawling back into whatever hole he’d come from. But you stayed. You prayed over her. Something tells me you don’t do that with everyone you kill. Why her?”
“How did you—”
“I told you, Mr. Zbirak. I’m psychic. Do you believe me yet?”
Zbirak’s smile was rotten from the inside. “What else did she tell you?”
“That she’s seen enough of the other side to know where you’re going.” Cassie’s other hand slipped free. Now she just had to bide her time. “And you should’ve been more afraid of dying while you were still alive.”
Zbirak studied Cassie, and she wondered if he believed a word she’d said. There were still scattered thoughts and memories buzzing inside of her like a hive of bees, but whenever she tried to capture one, it would slip free. Who knew when they would settle and reveal more of the puzzle?
And who knew if she’d be alive long enough to put it together?
Cassie flinched when Zbirak moved, but he had merely taken a step back. Then gestured toward the stairs and the door that led to the first floor. “You held up your end of the bargain, Ms. Quinn. You may go.”
Cassie froze. “What?”
“I’m sorry to say your element of surprise is gone. I noticed you slipped your bonds about a minute ago. My fault for not tying them tighter
.” He held up a finger. “However, you were honest with me. You’re a truly fascinating person, Ms. Quinn. I hate to see you die. But you’ve left me no choice. Luckily for you, I’ve decided to keep my promise. I told you I’d give you a sixty-second head start. The clock starts now. If I were you, I’d start running.”
Cassie didn’t hesitate. Throwing off the ropes circling her torso, she took off up the stairs without looking back. If she could get Zbirak away from Bob, perhaps the other man would survive the ordeal. But that was only if she could outsmart an assassin.
The seconds ticked by like bullets firing from a gun.
Time was not on her side.
40
Cassie half expected the door at the top of the stairs to be locked when she reached it. Wouldn’t it be like him to offer her a chance at survival, only for her to find out it hadn’t been real all along? But Zbirak had kept his word, much to her surprise, and when she wrapped her hand around the cool metal doorknob, it twisted easily under her touch.
After pushing through the door, she slammed it behind her, hoping to give herself a few extra seconds. Pausing long enough to glance around the kitchen, she looked for a butcher knife, finding nothing she could use to her advantage. It was clear Zbirak hadn’t been living here.
As she took off through the living room, she wondered if Zbirak would leave Bob alone while he was counting down the seconds. The man’s only hope of survival was if the assassin found Cassie a more interesting prey. Besides, he still needed Bob if he intended to get to Rose. Bait was bait, even if it was a little worse for wear.
Cassie unlocked the front door and burst outside, pumping her arms in rhythm with her legs as she launched herself off the front steps. She raced into the woods, knowing it wouldn’t give her much coverage. Even though the trees were thick, they were bare.
Plus, there was the little fact that he knew these woods better than she did. She had no idea where the road was and which direction they had come from. Were there other houses around here? Would anyone be willing to help her? Even if she made it somewhere safe, Zbirak would be able to follow her footsteps in the snow.
This head start was nothing but false hope. Zbirak had dangled her freedom in front of her face like a carrot on a stick, only so he could watch the light leave her eyes as he snatched it away.
She needed a new plan.
Ignoring the instinct to run, Cassie tucked herself behind a tree and closed her eyes, slowing her breath. Reaching out with whatever sixth sense she had, probing the woods, she searched for an escape route. The trees had an energy to them, like they had seen Zbirak pull this trick too many times before. But the spirits were shy. They were in hiding. Still scared of him, even in death.
Cassie had lost track of the time in her head, but it was closing in on sixty seconds. The trunk she leaned against felt safe, but not for long. After pushing off it, she kept straight, jogging but not expending all her energy just yet.
There was a subtle shift around her, some feeling that tugged her to the left, back behind the house. Letting it pull her, she trusted whatever part of the universe had guided her this far. Maybe it was delusional—the desire to believe someone or something else was looking out for her—but she was willing to take that chance. It hadn’t steered her wrong yet.
A branch snapped behind her, and Cassie sped up. A tingle crept its way up her spine and wrapped around her neck, sitting there like ice-cold fingers against her skin. Zbirak was behind her, but he hadn’t pinpointed her yet. He was still on the hunt.
She still had a chance.
Cassie pushed harder, trying her best to stay quiet. Now she could see the back of the house. The yard was bare of any ornamentation, and she kept to the trees to stay out of sight. Part of her wanted to go back into the house, to trick Zbirak into thinking she’d escaped, only to lock the doors behind her and use the house as a defensible point. At least she’d be able to keep an eye on Bob.
