She saw the torment on his face as he got up and returned to his chair.
He didn't say what they both thought. Long ago he'd entrusted a small group of researchers with the duty of finding a "cure" for her rare disease only to learn modern science was helpless before the wrath of an ancient god.
Maybe he was right, maybe Wulf was as dangerous to her as everyone else. She knew the Dark-Hunters were sworn to kill Daimons, but she didn't know how they would deal with Apollites. Her mother had said to trust no one, most especially not the ones who made their living by killing their people.
Still, her gut told her that a race that had spent eternity hunting hers would know everything about them. Then again, why would a Dark-Hunter ever help an Apollite when they were sworn enemies? "It was a stupid idea, wasn't it?"
"No, Cassie," her father said gently. "It wasn't stupid at all. I just don't want to see you hurt." She got up and went to hug and kiss him. "I'll go on to class and forget about it."
"I still wish you'd think about leaving for a while. If those Daimons saw you, they might have told someone else you were here."
"Trust me, Daddy, they didn't have time. No one knows I'm here and I don't want to leave."
Ever. The word hung unspoken between them. She saw her father's lips quiver as they both thought about the fact that the clock was ticking for her.
"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" her father asked. "I'll leave work early and—"
"I promised Michelle we could do something. Catch you tomorrow?"
He nodded and gave her a squeeze so strong that she winced from the pressure of his arms around her waist. "You be careful."
"I will."
By the look on his face, she could tell he didn't want her to go any more than she wanted to leave. "I love you, Cassandra."
"I know. I love you too, Daddy." She offered him a smile and left him to his work. Cassandra made her way from his office and out of the building, while her thoughts drifted back toward her dreams of Wulf and the way he'd felt in her arms.
Kat fell in behind her and remained completely silent, giving her the space she needed. It was what she loved most about her bodyguard. Sometimes it seemed as if Kat were psychically linked to her.
"I need some Starbucks," Cassandra said to Kat over her shoulder. "What about you?" "Always game for java. Give me ground-up beans or give me death."
As she walked down the street toward the coffee shop, Cassandra started thinking more and more about the Dark-Hunters. Since she had discounted them before as myths her mother had used to frighten her, she'd never really researched them while she'd studied ancient Greece. Ever since she was a child, she'd spent her spare time looking into her mother's history, and ancient legends. She couldn't recall ever finding a mention in her readings about the Dark-Hunters, which only confirmed in her mind that her mother was relaying stories of bogeymen and not real people.
But maybe she'd overlooked—
"Hey, Cassandra!"
She looked up from her musings to see one of the guys from school waving at her as she drew near Starbucks. He was a couple of inches shorter than her and was cute in a very Boy Scout kind of way. His short black hair was curly and he had friendly blue eyes.
Something about him reminded her of Opie Taylor from The Andy Griffith Show and she half-expected him to call her "ma'am."
"Chris Eriksson," Kat whispered under her breath as he came over.
"Thanks," Cassandra said in an equally low tone, grateful Kat's name recall was much better than her own. She could always remember faces, but names often eluded her. He stopped before them.
"Hi, Chris," she said, smiling at him. He was really nice and always tried to help anyone who needed it. "What brings you here?"
He looked instantly uncomfortable. "I… uh… I was picking up something for someone."
Kat exchanged an interested look with her."Sounds kind of dubious. I hope it's not illegal." He blushed profusely."No, not illegal. Just kind of personal."
For some reason, Cassandra liked the sound of it being illegal better. She waited a minute or two while he looked rather awkward. Chris was an undergraduate student in her Old English class. They hadn't really spoken to each other much except to compare notes whenever she'd had trouble translating something. Chris was the professor's pet and maintained a perfect score on all the tests.
Everyone in the class wanted to hang him for blowing the curve. "Did you do the assignment for class this afternoon?" he asked finally.
She nodded.
"It was great, wasn't it? Really exciting stuff." By his face, she could tell he truly meant that.
"Like having my teeth drilled without Novocain," she said, intending it to be funny and playful.
He didn't take it that way. His features fell. "I'm sorry. I'm being a geek again." He pulled nervously at his ear and dropped his gaze to the ground. "I better go. I have some other things I need to do."
As he started away from her, she called out to him, "Hey, Chris?"
He stopped and looked back at her.