Page 51 of Bad Blood
YOU
You should have known that it would come to this, that Cassie would remember. The wheel turns. The die is cast.
It is only a matter of time before the Masters ask you to pass judgment.
You showed no weakness when Five told you of your daughter’s arrival in Gaither, no hint that his words had hit their target. But in the hours since, you’ve felt the shift coming, felt yourself on the verge of becoming someone else.
Somethingelse.
When the acolyte—no longer an apprentice, not yet a Master—comes to present his work for your approval, to add a diamond to the collection around your neck, you’re ready.
This one is young. This one wants your admiration. This one you can use.
You listen. You nudge. You lay a hand lightly on the flesh of his chest, tracing a symbol—seven circles around a cross. You whisper in the acolyte’s ear.
You are powerful, you murmur. You will be the best among them, if you choose your targets well.
You offer immortality if he is worthy. If he will do as you say.
Lorelai would shudder at your words—at your plan. But Lorelai isn’t here anymore. Cassie doesn’t need Lorelai.
She needs the Pythia.
She needs the monster.
She needsyou.
When Agent Sterling caught up to us, she sent everyone back to the hotel but Dean and me. I told her what I wanted to do. She made me lay out the pros and cons. She made me walk through it again and again. She listened to my arguments and, finally, she agreed. The three of us would go back to the quaint blue house where I’d spent a year of my childhood. Barring any unforeseen complications, I would see if the current occupant would let me poke around inside. With luck, we might knock loose a few memories.
Eventually, Agent Sterling might have to blow her cover and approach Kane Darby as an FBI agent. Eventually, we could directly interrogate him about Nightshadeandmy mother. But for now, we needed to know who we were dealing with, and that information was locked in my mind.
“I’d tell you that you don’t have to do this,” Dean murmured as the house came into view, “but I know that you do.”
Less than a year ago, I’d gone with Dean to his childhood home. I’d knelt in the dirt with him, searching for his mother’s initials on a weatherworn picket fence. At the time, it hadn’t even occurred to me that someday, he might be returning the favor.
“Maybe we should have brought Townsend with us.”
Dean’s comment got an eyebrow arch out of me. “So he could make inappropriate comments and lighten the moment? Or so he could tell you exactly what I’m feeling?”
Dean considered his answer very carefully. “The one that’s not going to get me a speech about how you can take care of yourself.”
I snorted and walked toward the front porch. As I made my way up the steps, the second one creaked.
“Gotcha!” I jump from the step onto the porch and wrap my arms around Mommy before the creaking can give me away.
“On the contrary…” Mommy picks me up and dangles me upside down. “I’ve gotyou!”
“Cassie.” Dean’s voice broke through the memory. At first, I thought he was worried about me, but as I processed my surroundings, I realized that he was more concerned with the person who’d just opened the front door.
“Shane,” I said, taking in Ree’s grandson’s appearance. Somehow, I hadn’t expected the house to be occupied. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I used to live here.”
Shane stared at me with every bit as much disdain as we’d gotten from him at the museum. “So?”
“So I’d like to look around a little,” I returned. “I don’t know how much your grandmother told you—”
Before I could finish that thought, Shane headed back into the house. He let the door slam behind him, but didn’t lock it. I took that as an invitation and reached for the doorknob.
When Shane realized I’d followed him into the house, he stared at me for a moment. “You didn’t use to be this brave.”
