The amethyst pendant shattered.
The silver owl swung, but nothing hung from its claws now. The crystal was gone.
Cassie's ears caught the tinkle as bits of it fell. But she didn't really notice the sound consciously. She was blind and deaf with panic.
"Now, Cassandra," the voice was beginning again, and then it was interrupted by a noise so loud that even Cassie couldn't ignore it. A roar was coming from the front yard of the school, a sound like a pep rally, only angry. Shrill screams rang out against the background of deep shouting.
The principal dropped the silver chain and strode over to the window which overlooked the front of the school.
And Cassie's brain woke up. It wanted only one thing, to get out of here. With the dark man's attention distracted, she dove for the door.
She ran straight through the office without looking at the secretaries. There was chaos in the second-floor halls. Everyone was flooding out "of classrooms. "It's a fight!" some guy on the stairs was yelling. "Come on!"
It's like a riot; they can't control everybody at once, Cassie realized dimly. She was still running. She ran down the stairs and then down a hallway, instinctively heading for the center of the confusion.
"Cassie, wait!"
Not a man's voice, but a threatening one. Faye. Cassie paused for an instant, looking around desperately for Nick or Diana or Adam.
"Cassie, stop, for pity's sake. No one is trying to hurt you. I've been running after you all the way from the office."
Warily, Cassie edged backward. The hall was deserted now. Everyone was outdoors.
"Cassie, just listen to me. He's not trying to murder you, I promise. He wants to help you. He likes you."
"Faye, you're insane!" Cassie's control broke, and she screamed the words. "You don't know what he is! Everything you see about him is an illusion. He's a monster!"
"Don't be ridiculous. He's one of us - "
"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Cassie said. Reaction was setting in and her knees were shaking so badly that she had to lean against the wall. She slid down, tearing a poster about the Thanksgiving football game. "You didn't see him. You don't know."
"I know you're being a baby. You didn't even stay to listen to what he had to say to you. He was going to explain everything - "
"Faye, wake up!" Cassie cried. "For God's sake, will you please wake up and look at him?
He's nothing that you think. You're completely blind."
"You think you know so much about it." Faye stood back, arms crossed over her chest. She tilted her chin up and looked down at Cassie with heavy-lidded, queerly triumphant eyes. Her blood-red lips curved in a smile. "You think you know everything - but you don't even know what his name was when he was here last. When he came to our parents and he lived at Number Thirteen."
The strength of terror Cassie had felt moments earlier was gone, and the ground suddenly felt very unstable. She pressed a hand against the floor. Faye was still looking at her with those strange, triumphant eyes. "No," Cassie whispered.
"'No' you don't know? Or 'no' don't tell you? But I want to tell you, Cassie, and it's time you did know. The name he used last time was John Blake."
Chapter Ten
Cassie stared, beyond speech, beyond thought. Not believing - but inside her, something knew.
"It's true. He's your father."
Cassie just sat.
"And he wants you to be happy, Cassie. He wants you to be his heir. He's got a lot planned for you."
"And what are you?" Cassie cried, outraged, pushed beyond the limits of her endurance. "My new stepmother?"
Faye chuckled - that infuriating, lazy, self-satisfied chuckle. "Maybe. Why not? I've always liked older men - and he's only about three centuries older."
"You're disgusting!" Cassie couldn't find the right words. None were bad enough, and she didn't want to believe that any of this was actually happening. "You're - you - "
"I haven't done anything yet, Cassie. John and I have a - business relationship."
Cassie felt as if she were gagging. For herself, for Faye . . . "You call him John?" she whispered.
"What do you think I should call him? Mr. Brunswick? Or what he called himself the last time he was here, Mr. Blake?"
Everything was spinning around Cassie now. The pale green cinderblock walls were whirling. She wanted to faint. If only she could faint she wouldn't have to think.
But she couldn't. Slowly, the spinning steadied, she felt the floor solid beneath her. There was no way to escape this. There was no choice but to deal with it.
"Oh, God," Cassie whispered. "It's true. It's really true."
"It's true," Faye said quietly, with satisfaction. "Your mother was his girlfriend. He told me the whole story, how she fell in love with him when he went over to Number Twelve to borrow some matches. They never did get married, apparently - but I'm sure he didn't begrudge her his name."
It was true ... and that had been what Cassie's grandmother was trying to tell her when she died. "I have one more thing to tell you," she'd said, and then Laurel had come in. The last words had only been a whisper, "John" and something else Cassie couldn't make out. But she could recall the shape of her grandmother's lips trying to make it. It had been "Blake."
"Why didn't she try to tell me before?" Cassie whispered raggedly, hardly aware she was speaking aloud. "Why wait until she was dying? Why?"
"Who, your grandma? She didn't want to upset you, I suppose," Faye said. "She probably thought you'd be - disturbed - if you knew. And maybe" - Faye leaned forward - "she knew it would bring you closer to him. You're his own flesh and blood, Cassie. His daughter."