“You’re letting her come?” Ethan narrowed his eyes. Amazing. His maker didn’t do crap like this. Stupid. Who took a human into battle anyway?
Zareb moved toward the door. “Yes.”
Ethan didn’t even try to explain away his need to protect her. “She’ll die.”
“It’s her choice.” Zareb’s expression said the decision was made.
Ethan glared as he watched his maker head for the door. “Do you still keep your weapons in the same place?”
Zareb paused. “Yes. You’re going to arm her? Excellent idea. I’ve learned that the least capable among us often perform extraordinary feats given the right incentives.” Then he left. The other vampires disappeared after him.
“And sometimes the ‘least capable’ have skills that could put your butt in the ground.” Her mumbled response was almost lost in the slamming of the door.
Ethan would have smiled, but he was too pissed to find anything funny right now. “You’d be a lot safer here.”
Her gaze challenged him. “I’ll be a lot ‘safer’ if I operate under the assumption that hiding isn’t an option until these animals are stopped. Because from what you’ve told me, they’re very good at finding people, and a false sense of security could kill me.”
Cassie was wrong. She hadn’t seen what they’d be facing.
He reached for another argument. “What do you fear the most, Cassie?” Whatever it was, he’d use it to convince her to stay away from Eternal Rest.
“Having to cook dinner for my whole family? World’s worst cook here.” Her smile was small and tight, but at least it reached her eyes.
“Right. Won’t have to cook Garrity dinner.” He searched his mind for a clue to her real fears.
Then he remembered her words when she’d seen the bodies of his neighbors: “I’ve been afraid of the dead all my life.”
“Death. You’re afraid to die.” He knew he sounded triumphant. “If you go with us, there’s a good chance it could happen.”
She ignored him.
Frustrated, he watched her pull on a borrowed jacket. If she was determined to go, he’d have to give her a weapon, for all the good it would do. Ethan turned to head down the hallway. He pulled open the door to the smallest bedroom, strode to the walk-in closet, and took the key from the hook beside the door.
“Wait.” Her voice was right behind him. “Did you just get that key off the wall? I didn’t see a key there.”
“You weren’t supposed to see it. A cloaking spell. Zareb wears many hats. Sorcerer is one of them.” He hoped he sounded as angry as he felt.
He could sense her rolling this latest bit of weirdness around in her mind. He yanked open the door and turned on the closet light.
“Wow.” Her hushed exclamation said it all.
“Wow, indeed.” He stepped inside the huge walk-in closet and studied the hundreds of weapons lining its walls. “Can you shoot a gun?” As he spoke he lifted a small handgun from the wall.
“Yes.” She reached past him and chose a different one.
He frowned. “Why not the one I picked?”
“I’ve practiced with this one.”
He watched as she chose ammunition and deftly loaded the gun. She shoved it into her purse.
Ethan studied her. “You’re different from when I first met you.”
She didn’t answer, just lifted a knife from the wall, chose a sheath, and strapped it to her thigh.
“That’s a big-ass knife.”
“That’s why I like it.” She started to turn away.
“This is the real you, isn’t it? So who was that person back in the funeral home?”
Her eyes looked flat, expressionless. “I killed the binder, didn’t I? Oh, and I still don’t know what a binder is.”
“You got lucky. Who taught you how to use a gun and knife?”
“My grandfather.”
He picked up on the slight hesitation before she said “grandfather.”
Ethan had a gut feeling. “Does your grandfather have anything to do with your fear of death?” Maybe she’d seen him die. That could be traumatic for a kid.
He needed to know, and he was prepared to stand here until she told him. Ethan didn’t have a clue why knowing was so important to him. This whole not-having-a-clue thing was getting old fast.
She met his gaze, and for a moment he thought she’d refuse to explain. But then she sighed and looked past him. “I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid of dead bodies.”
“Why?”
Cassie hesitated, and he could almost hear her inner battle.
“I’d like to know.” He tried to soften his voice, but he hadn’t done soft in a lot of years. His