She smiled, coldly fascinated, as drinkers around them backed away, silenced but for an occasional gasp or cry. Even Katerina and her cronies stood back, aghast.
‘Cassie!’ shouted Ranjit. Blood pumping through her ears seemed to drown his voice out, along with Estelle’s fevered cries.
Kill her! KILL HER!
Yes. She was tired of the pathetic girl, trailing after Katerina like some kind of handmaiden.
She called us an abomination!
Kill her!
Yes! Kill her!
‘Cassie, no!’
People in the bar stumbled away, frantically forcing their way out of the secluded Members’ area. Cassie ignored them, laughing as she watched Sara flail. The girl’s face! Ridiculous! She laughed again and, still without lifting a finger, flung the screaming sixth former across the room.
The girl shot backwards, slamming hard against the far wall. Katerina howled with rage, and the other girls screamed – but they seemed rooted to the spot, unwilling to challenge Cassie. Afraid of her.
As well they should be. We should have thrown her further! Hold her!
Cassie studied Sara. It was a fine sight, the girl struggling to get to her feet. Yes, Estelle was right. Hold her. She must hold her. Just like this. By the throat.
‘Cassie, stop!’
The dear boy. But such an irritant! Don’t listen.
Shaking her head free of Ranjit’s cries, she tightened her mental hold on Sara’s neck, squeezing. The girl was purpling, fighting for another breath, kicking violently, tearing at her own throat and the invisible grip around it. Odd noises came out of her. Gagging, choking, strangled sounds.
‘CASSIE!’
She felt arms lock around her waist, and suddenly someone was struggling with her, trying to pull her away. She took a breath to give a contemptuous laugh, and raised an arm to brush them away. But the hand that seized hers was just as strong as hers.
Ranjit!
The shock of his touch brought her back to herself, and she realised where she was. Who she was.
What she was doing.
‘STOP IT!’ Ranjit’s snarl was inhuman, catlike, but she understood it clearly.
Besides, she’d already stopped. In the silence of the emptied Members’ Bar, watched only by monsters like herself, Cassie stared at Sara’s limp form as it crumpled, sobbing, to the floor.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Oh yes, you could run in Jimmy Choos. Really, really fast. Cassie shoved through the crowds in the foyer, the bewildered ones who hadn’t been in the bar to see what had happened. Outside, the cold air hit her like a slap as she bolted across 57th Street and Central Park South, into the dark safety of the park itself.
She went on running until the high heels began to – not hurt her, but annoy her. Anger again. No. She mustn’t get angry. Stumbling to a halt, she tugged off the shoes and ran on barefoot, her breathing hard and ragged, the straps of the stilettos hooked into her fingers.
Something soft and cold touched the skin of her face. And once more. Halting, she stood uncertainly for a few seconds. The coldness turned to wetness as it brushed her cheek.
Snow. The flakes drifted faster and thicker across the city’s lights before vanishing in the dark oasis of the park. Her bare feet were freezing. She was freezing. She could see only scattered pools of light on whitening patches of grass, and the ominous shape of trees. She wrapped her arms around herself, shaking with terror. Oh, God!
A dark shape moved behind her, and she gave a sharp cry of fear.
‘Cassie.’
His voice was quiet, and the animal ferocity was gone. She turned into Ranjit’s arms with a desperate sob of relief.
‘Come on, Cassie. Let’s go.’
‘I don’t know what this is. I’ve never heard of it.’
Sir Alric Darke’s back was turned to them. For several silent minutes now he had been staring out of the glass walls of his penthouse on to the glittering lights of Manhattan and the blackness that was Central Park.
Cassie shivered. She could hardly believe she’d run into that absorbing darkness without a thought. The hunger was growing again; she could feel it. It had gnawed at her insides since she’d run in a blind panic from Carnegie Hall. The spirit was awake and it was ravenous. And that was one more thing she didn’t need, because she’d been just as sure as Ranjit that Sir Alric could explain what had happened at Carnegie Hall.
No such luck.
‘You say you picked Sara up?’
‘Not – not physically.’ Her voice trembled, and she cleared her throat. ‘But yes, I picked her up. Some kind of force. Outside me, but it felt like I was controlling it.’
‘This is baffling. And it worries me a great deal.’
‘It worries you?’ She tried to laugh.
‘Sir Alric,’ Ranjit broke in. ‘If you can’t explain what’s happened, no one can. There must be something. Something you’ve forgotten, something from the past.’
‘I’m touched by your faith in me, Ranjit.’ Sir Alric sounded unusually bitter. ‘But no. I’ve never heard of any such thing. I’d remember, believe me.’
Ranjit squeezed Cassie’s shoulders in an attempt to reassure her. ‘Are you sure that the joining ritual has never been broken before?’
Sir Alric gazed out on the city again. ‘No. No, Ranjit, it hasn’t. And you’re right, it’s the only thing that’s different about Cassie: her interrupted ritual.’
‘Some of the spirit was shut out,’ said Cassie quietly. ‘Some of Estelle. She talks about being out in a void.’