Blood Ties, Love Binds

by Alexa Whitewolf

  Damon cleared his throat and shifted his stance, in an effort to reroute his wayward thoughts into a semblance of order. Despite all he’d been trained to see, Cassandra didn’t fit the accomplice profile. And, deep down, Damon knew her moral code couldn’t have changed that much.

  When Cassandra dropped her defensive stance, there was nothing deceptive about her body posture, and Damon chose to go with his gut feeling. “Drugs, cars, illegal stuff.”

  His attempt at being vague didn’t pass unnoticed, but Cassandra didn’t press. If he had his way, Damon intended to make sure she never saw the horrors from their files.

  After another few minutes, she said, “Ok, what do you need from me?”

  His stunned expression must have been clear, as Cassandra smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Come on, Damon, there’s a reason you sought me out, and it’s obviously not to mend fences. Which is just as well, because I’ve moved past whatever it is we had ten years ago.”

  “Why offer to help, then?”

  Cassandra shrugged and moved to the fridge once more. This time, she pulled out a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass. “You missed a few things while you were gone, D.”

  She laughed, but it sounded harsh and bitter. Damon moved closer, but one glare from Cassandra rooted him to the spot. She picked up the glass and drank it in one shot, her knuckles gripping the countertop with enough force to turn them white.

  “Talk to me, Cass.”

  She slammed the glass back on the cold granite surface, whirling to face him. “Didn’t you wonder why I believed you so easily, just now? I know better than most what Viktor’s capable of. Why do you think I don’t live with my over-possessive, verbally abusive adopted father anymore, hmm?”

  A knot formed in Damon’s stomach, even as he forced words past his dry throat. “What did he do to you?”

  She held his gaze for a moment, then sighed and leaned her hip against the counter. Shoulders curled inwards, all fight seemed to have gone out of her. “Nothing. And not for lack of trying. I left as soon as I could, and he only calls me every once in a while now. As for your earlier question, I offered because I can’t stand by and let Viktor ruin people’s lives. Not like he did his own wife’s, and not like he attempted to do with mine. So regardless of our history, how can I help?”

  Damn. Damon hadn’t expected the reasoning, nor Cassandra’s revelations. He was torn between wanting to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world, or going after her adoptive father with the viciousness of a rabid dog. Since neither option was feasible at the moment, he settled for second best. “Let me crash here for a few days, a week at most.”

  A pin could have been heard falling in the silence that followed. “Come again?” Cassandra’s voice broke on a squeak at the end, betraying her panic.

  Damon held up his palms as a gesture of good faith. “I could use the time to gather intel on Viktor, and anything you tell me could help, because it’s obvious I missed quite a lot.” He paused for a beat to judge her expression. Since Cassandra wasn’t yelling – yet – he continued, “Plus, I didn’t book a hotel. With it being prime Formula One season and festivals, there’s nothing free to rent in the area. Trust me, I looked.” A small white lie, one that made him cringe internally. He used the guilt to project his best vulnerable expression. “Unless you want me to sleep in the car?”

  For a second, Damon thought Cassandra would refuse outright. Her mouth opened as if to refute him, but good manners seemed to overtake everything else. She shook her head, muttering, “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but…you can have the couch.”

  ♥∞♥

  Cassandra pushed away from the counter, vaguely gesturing to the wine bottle she left behind. “Feel free to have some.”

  She couldn’t stand the look in Damon’s eyes, as if he could tell everything she’d been through and wished nothing more than to take it all away. Fury streaked through her, fuelled by the alcohol in her blood and her own annoyance at her ever-changing emotions.

  Exiting the kitchen, Cassandra threw her sneakers to some forgotten corner of the hallway, then went to the supply closet. She picked up pillows and a blanket and made her way to the living room, avoiding the kitchen area.

  Letting Damon stay the night was one thing, but it didn’t mean she had to enjoy his company. Jaw clenching, she muttered some decidedly unladylike words under her breath, then turned to go upstairs to have privacy.

  With all the drama, she only had a few hours left to get ready for the night with Renzo. On a regular basis, she was fairly quick as far as getting pampered went. Yet after the interactions with Damon, Cassandra had a feeling the mental part of things – calming down from being around him – would take much longer than a few minutes.

  Privacy seemed to be wishful thinking, as she ran into Damon not even seconds later, at the bottom of her stairs this time. He was leaning against the wall, a leg stretched out to stop her from moving past.

  “In a hurry?” Damon’s cool assurance was back, more infuriating than ever in the wake of their conversation.

  Cassandra’s palm itched with the desire to smack him, but she pulled in a deep breath, adamant not to let him get to her. Speculation made its way to her clouded brain. If he thought she was involved, would he leave? Or maybe back off enough to give her time to breathe and pull herself together?

  The words were out of her mouth in an impulsive move that was all of her own making. “Yes, actually. I have to be at Renzo’s club in an hour.” She didn’t specify who Renzo was, nor what he was to her. Let Damon wonder.

  After the initial fire that lit his eyes, Damon’s expression grew once more unreadable. “Club? I didn’t know you hung around those, Cass. It used to be the place you’d avoid at any cost. Trouble magnet, remember?”

  Cassandra scowled at him, taking a step closer and keeping an icy tone. “As I mentioned before, a lot of things have changed.”

  “Clearly.” The sharp edge to his voice caught her attention, and she had the odd feeling it concealed something else. Before she could dig deeper, Damon spoke again. “Can I come?”

  Of all his nerve…

  “No.” Rather than let out the tirade on the tip of her tongue, Cassandra took a deep breath. “It’s a closed party, sorry. Only friends allowed. But there’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry, and everything you need on the sofa for sleep. I’m sure you're tired from your flight.”

  Ignoring Damon’s ever-shifting expression – the side smirk he had on hinted at his amusement – she broke eye contact and stepped over him, moving up the stairs. Despite the nagging sensation of being watched, she didn’t look back.

  As soon as she got to her bedroom, Cassandra closed the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to calm down her breathing. On the outside, she may have managed to not show much, but inside, her emotions were more mixed up than ever.

  Damon’s departure had been a huge blow for her, and it had taken a long time for her to function properly. It wasn’t only that she missed Damon, though she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She craved his company, his laugh, his smile… Everything about him.

  But even more, she missed being herself. Because with Damon, she could talk about anything, without having her opinions thrown away as if they counted for nothing – as Viktor was prone to do. Or without having to be told who to be, or which way to act.

  With Damon, it had been simple. So simple she should have thought twice before giving her heart to someone so intent on destroying it. But she hadn’t, and the consequences of never doubting Damon had shattered her.

  I won’t make that mistake again. With Damon, or anyone else.

  Cassandra sighed and straightened away from the door, heading to her private ensuite. For once, she was grateful of the luxury. At least I don’t have to worry about running into Damon with nothing more than a towel to cover me. With my luck, it could happen.

  ♥∞♥

  Damon tore his eyes from Cassand
ra’s locked bedroom door and headed back to the kitchen. He poured himself a much-needed glass, letting his thoughts wander as he sipped it.

  He’d gotten entrance into her home, and a leave to stay. Cassandra may have drawn her own conclusions about his presence there, but she was further from the truth than she knew. Yes, stopping Viktor played into his plans, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. All things in their due time.

  Damon gulped the last of the wine, then headed to his car. After a quick glance around the, he pulled out his carry-on bag. It looked like a regular gym bag, but once inside the house he started pulling out its contents: motion sensors, alarms the size of his thumb, and a gun he tucked in his waistband.

  Taking off his shoes for ease of movement, he set about securing the house. Damon moved to the backdoor, leading onto a large yard. There were no back neighbours, but that didn’t necessarily mean the area was safe. He set up infrared alarms around the door, then headed to the windows.

  The front door would be left without alarms, as he planned to keep watch on it all night. The windows, however, were another weak point. He couldn’t make them bulletproof, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least set up minor reinforcements.

  After the windows, Damon moved to the basement door and added another alarm to its base. The size of half his pinkie, they were unnoticeable to the eye and their chameleon coloring ensured they blended in the background.

  As he moved about, Damon kept an eye on the upstairs area. The shower was running, but he wouldn’t put it past Cassandra to come check on him. It was imperative to at least secure the perimeter, in the event something happened when he was not around.

  Flashes of his past life hit him, of the ops he’d been a part of. His military squad hadn’t always been in the right, and he’d seen his share of horrors. Especially vivid in his mind was the recollection of subduing civilians, and how easy it had been to infiltrate compounds more secure than the White House.

  Damon reached for one of the windows, his hand clenching into a fist. His body bowed over the glass, tension straining past his control. The thought of Cassandra with a bullet in her head filled him with despair, and his heart squeezed.

  That’s what I’m here to prevent. He scowled, shaking off the unease. Time to get my shit under control. But first, supplies.

  Damon walked back to the living room and the gym bag, pulling out an encrypted cellphone. He pressed one button and it rang twice, then a familiar voice answered.

  “Yes?”

  Damon nearly sighed in relief at Derek’s voice. Though he’d been in missions on his own since his time in the military, he always kept contact with his former mentor. When shit needed to get done, Derek handled it better than anyone else. He was also the only man Damon fully trusted.

  “I made contact and confirmed Viktor is on the move.”

  There was a pause as the old man registered the information. “Is the asset secure?”

  Damon glanced up the stairs, then nodded, “Yep, with me. And I don’t plan to let her out of my sight.”

  “You might have to.” A pause, then, “I received your encrypted email, and you were right. We did receive report of a source, but it’s a bit out of your way.”

  A tinge of unease hit Damon’s stomach. “I’ll take it.”

  “Are you sure about this, Damon? I’ve read the file, and what’s in the database. None of this is easy, and may not be worth it if you end up leaving your skin in the game.”

  Damon didn’t hesitate as he answered. “I’m sure. Give me the name and address, Derek.”

  “Very well.” The elder man’s crisp British accent became more pronounced in his annoyance, but he rattled of a series of numbers – coordinates to a location.

  Damon repeated them back, then filed them away for later. “Got it. And, Derek? Thanks.”

  “Good luck.”

  Once he heard a dial tone, Damon went to the kitchen sink and held the gadget above the garbage disposal. He broke the cell phone in half, then dropped each part in, watching them shatter under the powerful grind.

  Then he put on his shoes, scribbled a note and grabbed Cassandra’s keys from the entrance table. A spare dangled on the keychain and he ripped it off, using it to lock up.

  The errand would take less than an hour, then he could be back to watch over Cassandra. Nothing will go wrong in the meantime. Despite the mental reassurance, Damon’s stomach curled in a knot as he gunned the car’s engine, taking off in a screech of tires.

  ♥ Chapter 6 ♥

  An hour later, Cassandra took one last look in the mirror, biting on her lower lip and assessing her image with a critical eye.

  A black halter dress hit mid-thigh, the gauzy material draping her body in a mist of mystery. Red highlights in the fabric caught the light as she moved, and the four-inch stilettos made her legs appear longer, wrapping around her ankles with thin satin bows. In sum, the whole outfit was more than eye-catching.

  Cassandra’s makeup was kept to a minimum: black, smoky mascara emphasized her eyes and lip gloss to give her lips a soft shine. A soft rose-like fragrance surrounded her every move, and her hair was down, curly and chic, reaching mid-back.

  Perfect.

  Hand on the knob, Cassandra hesitated for a tiny second. She hadn’t heard a word from Damon while getting ready, which somehow amplified her anxiety. Shaking her head, she opened the door and headed out. The click-clack of her heels resounded on the hardwood floor as she walked down the stairs, but no one seemed to be around.

  A peek in the living room confirmed the sofa was empty, and a glance outside revealed Damon’s car was also gone. Cassandra tried to tell herself it was relief she felt at the sudden departure, not disappointment. But too many things were left unanswered, with the prime question being: did Damon intend to come back?

  While she pondered the matter, Cassandra ended up in the kitchen. A small piece of paper stuck on the fridge caught her attention. There wasn’t anything special about it, other than its color: bright, neon pink.

  Considering Cassandra hated pink, having always deemed it too much of a girly color, seeing it in her kitchen attracted her eye. She moved towards it, almost hesitant to touch it. A scribbled message had her attention until she noticed the signature. Damon. It figures.

  Afraid her knees would give way, Cassandra pulled a chair and sat. Allowing a simple note to sway her so easily was beyond stupid. But it was more than he’d left the last time and raised buried old feelings.

  With shaky hands, Cassandra read the actual note, taking in Damon’s fine handwriting, almost unrecognizable from the messy printing from the days when they were friends. She’d always made fun of it, though her writing wasn't much better.

  A rush of memories threatened to overflow, but she ignored them and focused on the words.

  Cass,

  Sorry I took off without a word. Business called in town. It probably won’t take long, but I wanted to leave something behind. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, and you don’t want to hear half of it. I’m talking about what happened ten years ago, Cass. We need to talk about that.

  But it will wait. I wish you’d wait for me to come back tonight, but I know it’s too much to ask. So I’ll only say this: be careful at the club and stay out of trouble. I know you’ll find it, so my warning isn’t filled with empty words.

  Damon.

  P.S.

  I know you hate pink, but it was the only quick way I could figure out so you wouldn’t miss my note. After all, I don’t believe I’m allowed to come upstairs…

  Cassandra stared at the offending slip for a long moment after reading it. If a simple note like that one made her knees buckle… She didn’t even want to think about what the next days would bring.

  She stood and ripped the note to pieces, then grabbed her purse and keys with gritted teeth. Damon would remain off her mind tonight, coûte que coûte. Whatever the cost.

  ♥∞♥

  The car was a smooth ride –
one of the best Damon had driven for a mission. Though getting to the location on his GPS was easy, his mind was on Cass and what he’d left behind. He hated the thought of her so close to danger, especially at Viktor’s hands.

  Damon kept one hand on the steering wheel and with the other unplugged the GPS machine when it warned he was close to reaching his destination. A few buttons ensured all data was erased, corrupted to the point no hacker could fix it. A glance behind him confirmed no other cars were on the road with him, and he wasn’t being followed.

  A touch of a button, and the passenger window slid down. Damon pulled over on the gravel, then threw the GPS device out the window as far as he could. He heard a splash and drove back onto the road, his mind at ease that he’d protected his source – so far.

  His thoughts shifted back to Cassandra. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and if he was to protect her, he needed all the information at his disposal. It was the only reason he’d elected to pursue this lead, thin as it could turn out to be.

  Stepping on the gas, he took a corner and ended up on another dirt road, arriving at a secluded house within minutes. Two stories high, with cracked paint and windows that had seen better days, the building looked near collapse.

  Damon exited the car, inspecting the surroundings once more to make sure he was safe. Dogs barked in the distance, but as far as he could tell no one else was around. He approached steadily, locking the car behind him with the key fob.

  Years of military training and his time with Interpol had taught him awareness and to always expect the unexpected. Even as he approached in stealth mode, Damon was ready to draw his weapon at any sign of danger.

  His time working for Interpol had put him in the path of the world’s most wanted serial killers and criminals. He’d seen horrors he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy, and to this day had nightmares.