In a way, he was glad her back was to him – at least this way he knew she was truly asleep instead of possibly waiting for him to open the door so she could jump him with whatever sharp object she had in her boot that day.
Or at least he had a better chance of her being asleep – she was curled up on the bed and wrapped up in that absurd purple fleece blanket he'd seen many times in the back of her van. Her boots were on the floor, but he couldn't see any weapons in the laces. That in itself was suspect.
"Are you awake?" he asked quietly, deciding not to venture further until he was sure exactly how mad at him she was.
She gave a reply along the lines of a whimper or a grunt and picked her head up briefly to look at him, squinting from the light pouring in from the hall. She must have been pretty mad; her face had been washed recently, but there was some residue on her cheeks leftover from running makeup.
"I thought I told Vlad to kill you if you tried to come up here," she said groggily, putting her head back down and pulling her blanket tighter.
Her reply had been casual, so he decided it was safe enough to draw closer. "I won't be barred from entering anywhere in my own home," he replied bluntly. "And besides…as much as he tried, I thought you might have wanted the pleasure of killing me, as you so often mention."
Cassie gave a quiet snort, even though she didn't move. "Is this you saying you're sorry?" she asked, her voice still heavily laden with sleep.
"This is me asking how emotionally stable you are at the moment," Herbert said hesitantly, drawing up to the side of the bed.
"I'm nauseous and screwing a mad scientist and potential slasher who's been talking to the dad I've been looking for practically all my life without telling me," she said, putting her head back down. "I'm just great."
"I see," he replied in acknowledgement. "May I?"
She looked over her shoulder to see him gesture towards the bed. "It's your house, isn't it?" she asked.
They exchanged a glance and Cassie rolled her eyes. She gave another sleepy snort and moved over, giving him room to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Oh no," she said. "If you're gonna do this, do it right. Spoon."
She didn't have to look over at him to see the irritated glare and look of confusion playing on his face. "Consider it your punishment," said Cassie.
He continued to stare at her. "Would you prefer I got up and pistol-whipped you? Lay the fuck down!" she snapped. "You act like I'm asking you to cut out your own heart or something."
He sighed in exasperation, but she felt the bed shift and eventually felt a stiff arm curl itself around her waist and an equally uncomfortable body mold itself behind her. He was holding her in a way that made her feel as if he didn't want to touch her, but that was too bad – considering what he did for a hobby, he could stand to lay there and apologize in some form to the woman who more or less put up with all his bullshit.
Herbert on the other hand, just wanted to get the hell out of there. He was trying to win her back as an ally, that was true – she was useful in a sense, but he mainly just wanted to get the hell out of the room.
"You might wanna be careful," she said flatly. "Touching the woman you've had sex with before makes your skin fall off."
Apparently, she noticed his discomfort and Herbert had to allow himself to relax a little bit. He had to remind himself that it was still far better than being held down on an autopsy table by a pack of re-animates who intended to lobotomize him.
Unlike the dead subjects he was used to, Cassie was warm, more so than usual due to her being half-asleep and wrapped in that idiotic blanket, and even though her sarcasm wasn't gone, her wit was somewhat dulled, which allowed him a little leeway where verbal sparring was concerned. If he stayed there any longer, he was pretty sure more stupid thoughts would come to mind, and it was all the more reason to get this over with.
"Are you still angry with me?" he asked finally.
"You bet your ass," said Cassie. "You've been talking to my dad and I feel nauseous…that's two strikes against you, pal."
"I'm not surprised about the latter," he replied. "Considering what you eat on occasion, I wouldn't be surprised if…"
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked blearily, falling back into oblivion.
"You and Vlad have eaten out of fast food dumpsters, yes?" he asked curtly.
"…Once or twice," Cassie admitted.
"And you wonder why you're nauseous?" Herbert asked.
"I hope you're right," she said, her consciousness becoming more and more abstract. "I'd hate to be pregnant to you."
When his head shot up, Cassie burst into sardonic laughter, but if he had ever seriously considered killing her, this was the time. "Sorry!" she said, her tone much lighter. "But you so deserved that."