from the bottom of her grave as clods of earth landed on top of her coffin over and over until she was imprisoned in darkness. Since she couldn’t pray for death, she’d pray for insanity.
Objects within her range of vision looked vibrant, almost unreal. Every detail, no matter how tiny, was distinct. Right now she could see her binder working on another victim’s headstone. His name was Jon. Cassie never knew that hate could devour. She didn’t need a Second One urging her to kill the binder bitch. She’d put her shiny new fangs to good use if she ever got free.
No smells seeped into the sealed coffin, but if fear had an odor, she was suffocating in it.
At least they weren’t starving her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a stand with a bag of blood hanging from it. The blood was draining down a narrow tube that had been inserted through a small opening in the coffin. Since her arms were at her sides, she couldn’t see it flowing into her body.
Cassie closed her eyes, the only physical power she still controlled. She would survive on blood until . . . Would some merciful person eventually remove the tube? Did she want to die from starvation? Would she die? A question she hadn’t asked. Maybe even starvation wouldn’t kill her, just torture her forever.
What about her family? She’d never see them again. They’d grow old wondering what had happened to her, imagining her lying dead somewhere, never knowing that her fate was much worse than that.
And when she thought she couldn’t bear the parade of horrendous possibilities one more second, she thought of Ethan.
Ethan who had dragged her from that nightmare basement in Eternal Rest. Ethan who loved his brother, cared about the death of his neighbors, and who rescued a bad-tempered cat that no one else would have wanted.
Ethan. The man she wanted to sleep beside for the rest of her lifetimes and now never would. The realization that she loved him came too late, much too late. A tear slipped down her face and she couldn’t even freaking wipe it away. How pathetic was that?
The sounds of raised voices yanked her from her pity party. Damn, she wished she could turn her head. Everyone was yelling at once. She could just see Garrity.
“What do you mean they killed all the guards? There were two dozen of you up there. How did they get past the fucking beasts?” Garrity was shouting into his cell phone.
The binder crouched, whimpering beside Jon’s headstone.
Cassie pictured herself bringing the stone down on top of her murderous head. And then she forgot about the woman. Was the place under attack? Finally, she dared to think the impossible.
Had Ethan found her?
Garrity cursed as he shoved the phone into his pocket. He ran toward the other side of the room, but Cassie couldn’t see what he was doing. Then she heard the sound of a door opening.
“Cut the crying crap and get over here. I always have an escape route. This tunnel will bring us out one street over. Once I close this door behind me it’ll lock. I won’t wait for you even for the Collector.” Fear lived in Garrity’s voice.
“Then maybe you’ll wait for us.”
Cassie would’ve laughed if she could. She recognized the voice of Ethan’s friend. Stark.
“We figured you’d have a secret hole to crawl into, so we looked for it.”
Garrity came back into view as he scuttled away from the door. He grabbed the screaming binder and yanked her in front of him. Then he dragged her back toward his desk. Cassie could hear him pulling a drawer open.
Frustrated, Cassie lost sight of him again.
“I won’t need a sword. This gun will splatter your skulls all over the room. No regenerating a new head.” Garrity’s voice shook. “And I have her in front of me. I’m walking out of here and you’re not going to stop me.”
Stark’s laughter rang with wicked anticipation. “Oh, I’m not going to kill you. Someone else wants that pleasure. But forget about walking out of here because . . .”
Cassie rolled her eyes to the left in time to see the hall door implode.
“My buddy’s here to send you to hell.” Stark’s voice ended in a snarl.
Whatever Garrity saw in the hallway, it sent him stumbling over to put her coffin between himself and the door.
Cassie was still thinking about that snarl. That sound couldn’t have come from Stark’s throat. Cassie