Loyalty in Death (In Death, #9)

by J.D. Robb

“You’ll work harder.” He said it simply, almost childlike faith in his eyes. And Eve felt her conscience stir restlessly.

In mythology, Cassandra could foretell the future, but no one believed her. She warned of death and destruction and was dismissed. Her predictions always came true.”

She had a strong aura. The dark shimmer of violence might have troubled him a bit, but the heart of it had been bright with compassion and loyalty.

This group calls itself Cassandra, links itself to Mount Olympus, so the symbolism is clear. Power and prophecy, of course, but more a distance between them and mere mortals. A belief, an arrogance, that they, or whoever heads them, has the superior knowledge and ability to direct us. Perhaps even to care for us in the ruthlessly cold directives of gods.

She’d never lived through war. Not the kind that killed in indiscriminate masses. Her dealings with death had always been more personal, more individual. Somehow intimate. The body, the blood, the motive, the humanity. What she saw now had no intimacy. Wholesale destruction accomplished from a distance erased even that nasty bond between killer and victim.

This isn’t the time or the place for statements.” She looked down again at the small shoe, the silver buckle. “The dead make their own.”

another to the Twin Towers,

Eerie coincidence