Chasing Starlight: Cassandra's Story (The Daughters of Night Chronicles)

by Jennifer Siddoway

  My heart leaped as I looked down at my hand and saw Ellyllon’s ring glimmering in the darkness. I had a way out, but Ellyllon warned me that the ring would save me and only me.

  No. I wouldn’t leave Michael behind, not with this monster in his head.

  “I won’t go without you!” I shouted back.

  “Don’t be a fool! I won’t let you go down like this.”

  The Shadow Demon interjected. “She can’t, you fool. The Weavers’ purpose is to collect from mortal sub-consciousness. She’s trapped here just like you are—with me.”

  The demon didn’t know about the ring. He thought I had no way out. I couldn’t give this information to him, so I swallowed my pain at the lie, and met Michael’s gaze. “It’s true.”

  Before he could respond, our surroundings shifted again, and the demon grabbed him. Its tentacles wrapped around his foot and yanked him into the air. He hung upside down and flailed desperately. Michael cried out in pain and frustration. “Ahhh!”

  “You can fight me all you want, but I’m going to win this battle,” the demon hissed.

  I was not a fighter. Not that I considered myself a coward, but I knew that my skill lay elsewhere–in cleverness and intellect. But the demon held captive the man I loved. Knowing that I’d put him in danger tipped the scales in another direction. I would fight until my very last breath to keep Michael safe with all the weapons I had in my arsenal. I wouldn’t leave him alone.

  This would have to be accomplished carefully.

  “What is it you want?” I shouted, the anger in my voice hiding the panic that coursed through me. “I’m listening.”

  The demon paused and slowly looked at me.

  “What I want, Princess, is to be rid of the bonds that chain me to this realm. I wish to be released so I can seek my pleasure elsewhere.”

  Michael screamed again as the tentacles wrapped around more of his body. I could see that each oozed a putrid-smelling, purple liquid that burned his skin, much like its touch had marked my own.

  “What are you doing to him?” I cried.

  “Merely sating my appetite. I can twist your boyfriend's mind so far it won’t bend back.”

  “NO! Stop it!”

  The demon froze with Michael suspended in the air above me, and he was writhing in pain. It turned to me with an evil grin. “You care about this man?”

  I nodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I love him.”

  The demon’s smile widened, baring those pointed teeth that looked like they’d clamp down on Michael any second. “Yes, I can see that. His scent is all over you. Have you known each other carnally?”

  I blanched at this hideously invasive question. “I’m not going to answer that. You’re disgusting.”

  “I am drawn to power—magic. The Dust of Dreamers can sustain me for a time, but a fae like yourself, well, that would be a feast. I am, however, willing to put my appetite aside and make a trade.”

  “You want to leave the Realm of Dreams,” I clarified. “How exactly would that happen?”

  “If I am to enter the Mortal Realm, I’ll need a conduit for the transition to take place. Your boyfriend would be the perfect fit for me.” It turned to me with a lustful gaze. “What do you think, Cassandra? I could enter this vessel’s mind and take control of his waking consciousness.”

  “W-what does that mean? What would happen to Michael?”

  The demon laughed. “Oh, your boyfriend would not exist anymore. His brain would be turned to mush, no more than gelatinous gray matter. All that would be left is an empty shell—but I would be there instead. You could love me instead of him. I would like to know what it’s like to have the heat of a woman’s skin against my body.”

  “Never. That is never going to happen.”

  Its massive shoulders shrugged. “Very well, then I will eat my fill and take over his body by force. Agree to help me, or your boyfriend dies.”

  When I hesitated, Michael said, “Fine. I agree to your terms.”

  The demon and I both whipped our heads around in shock. Michael looked at me with heartbreak written all over his face, saying, “Cassandra, it’s the only way.”

  “Michael…”

  He glared at the demon and squared his shoulders. “I will let you take control of my physical form, but when the transition happens, you are to leave Cassandra alone.”

  “Michael, no!”

  The demon smiled gleefully and set Michael down on the floor. “Excellent!”

  I rushed over to where he knelt and wrapped my arms around him, and I started to cry. Michael put his arm around my shoulder and looked up at the demon expectantly.

  “So, what does this mean?” I blubbered.

  “The eyes are the window to the soul,” the demon informed me. “Light is the first thing that triggers the brain to wake up. I will root myself in one eye so I am secure. It takes time for me to inject myself into a body, so I’ll be dormant for a time. When the eye opens, I’ll gain control.”

  Michael swallowed hard and nodded. “So, when I wake up…”

  “No, you don’t wake up, that’s the point,” the demon sneered.

  “But I still have control of my faculties until the eye opens,” he confirmed.

  The demon thought about that for a moment and nodded. “Yes…I suppose that’s true. Now, what are we waiting for? Let’s get started.”

  “I just need a moment to say goodbye. Since I’m surrendering to you willingly, the least you could do is allow me that.”

  The demon paused. “You have thirty seconds.”

  Michael wrapped his arms around me tight and pressed his cheek against mine to hiss in my ear. “Just cut it out, Cass. Be done with this son of a bitch once and for all.”

  I pulled away from him, wide-eyed and frightened. What the hell did he mean by that? He couldn’t possibly be talking about…

  He nodded firmly as he looked me in the eyes and mouthed the words, “Do it.”

  “Don’t do this, Michael, please. I can’t live without you.”

  “Cass,” he said gently, taking my face in his hands, “this is the only way to keep you safe. I don’t care what happens to me as long as you live. Please let me do this.”

  “I love you,” I told him desperately. “I love you so damn much.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Are you finished?” the demon bellowed. “I have little patience for your puny, human sentiments.”

  Michael sighed and stepped away from me, walking toward the demon. He stopped in front of it, his back straight and his head held high. He looked over at me one last time, a sad smile on his face.

  “Michael—”

  “It’s okay, Sweetheart. Just remember what I said. This is how it has to be.”

  Michael turned back to the Shadow Demon, watching as it morphed into a glowing white orb. Black shadow tendrils crept out and drilled into Michael’s flesh. Michael gritted his teeth to bite back his screams of pain as the tendrils enveloped his body. As each coil took hold, the demon moaned with pleasure, and I saw the sucking leeches start to drain Michael’s mind, his thoughts and memories visible as they were drawn into the darkness.

  “Go!” Michael shouted desperately. His voice was hoarse from his silent screams. “Cass, go now! Don’t forget!”

  I squeezed my hand tight and felt the ring pulse around my finger. The light spread over my hand and soon covered my body. My wings exploded from my back. I spread them wide and flung myself as hard as I could from the Realm of Dreams.

  As I hurtled through time and space, I heard the demon screaming after me in Michael’s voice.

  “Cassandra!”

  Love is Blind

  Chapter Sixteen

  T he moment my wings settled me back into the Mortal Realm and my feet touched the ground, and I rushed over to Michael. I shook his shoulder and shrieked, “Michael, wake up! You’ve got to wake up!”

  Peaches hissed and bared his claws at me as I waved him off the bed. I scr
eamed Michael’s name again, trying to rouse him from his slumber. He groaned and woke gasping to catch his breath. After a second, he screamed and clawed at his face. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut as if trying to hold back the Shadow Demon.

  “Cassandra, it’s in my eye,” he cried in agony. “It’s in my eye! Get it out! Get it out!”

  I panicked and knelt beside him, my hands shaking as they fluttered over his face. “What do you want me to do?” I asked, my voice quivering with fear.

  “Cut it out. Find something sharp and cut the eye out like I told you.”

  “WHAT? I can’t...I can’t do that to you.”

  He writhed on the bed, gasping with unimaginable pain. “I can live without my sight! Please, you’ve got to do this—it’s the only way. You promised me!”

  It’s killing him.

  My heart pounded with fear and adrenaline. I had no idea what I should do and glanced around the room for anything that could help me.

  “Cass, look for my medical kit. It’s in my brown bag in my closet. There’s a scalpel in there. It’s the only thing that will work.”

  I let go of Michael and ran to his closet, opening the door and crawling on the floor to reach the brown leather bag tucked in the back corner. I yanked open the bag and felt around for the small, firm pouch which held some of his medical tools. When I found it, I opened it and saw an array of razor-sharp scalpels.

  “Which one?” I shouted.

  “The sharpest one,” he moaned, gripping his head. “Hurry.”

  “I’ve got it,” I gasped as I ran back and skidded to his side.

  Michael had managed to pull himself into a sitting position and was panting hard. He swallowed and jutted his head toward the hallway. “Okay, help me to the bathroom. You’re going to need some light.”

  “Are you sure about this? Why don’t I just take you to the hospital?”

  He shook his head. “Hospitals ask questions, and it would require tests and referrals before anyone would act. I’d have to open my eyes. I need the eye removed before we get there to force their hand.”

  With tears streaming down my cheek, I offered him my arm and guided him to the bathroom. Michael sat on the edge of the tub and tilted his head up. “Please! Do it, Cassandra. I can’t hold out much longer.”

  I hesitated.

  How the hell was I supposed to do this to the man I loved? What he was asking me to do was simply awful; I could barely wrap my head around it. Couldn’t there be some other way?

  Even so, I knew he was desperate—and that he was right.

  Michael reached out with one hand and touched my cheek gently. “I trust you.”

  I picked up the knife and brushed his hair to the side of his face. “Which eye is it?”

  “The left one,” he answered. “Please, just get it out of me.”

  I breathed through my nose and concentrated.

  Just don’t think about it. Act.

  My eyes narrowed as I traced the path where the blade needed to go. I’d have to cut through the eyelid. The eye had to be rendered entirely useless, dead before I could remove it. Michael was getting worse with every minute, so I shoved down the panic that threatened to crawl out of my throat like a scream. I breathed in through my nose to calm myself and remove all emotion from my body. My hand was surprisingly steady as I set the scalpel against his eye.

  As I cut, I reminded myself that my work didn’t have to be clean–it just had to happen.

  When the blade made the first incision on his lid, Michael yelped in surprise. But he bit down on the cry of pain, and stoically held still for me. I worked quickly to minimize his discomfort, but I knew it hurt more than I could ever imagine. Blood poured down his face as I eased the eye out of its socket, and, after a moment, I held the blackened orb in the palm of my hand.

  “Thank you,” Michael told me, struggling for breath. He listed to one side and forced himself upright. “Thank you…”

  I set the eye on the edge of the sink and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. My hands were still shaking from the horrific act they had performed. I grabbed the nearest towel I could find, and pressed it against his damaged eye socket, saying, “Keep pressure on it! We have to get you to the hospital.”

  He nodded and reached for my hand. “Okay.”

  I helped Michael to his feet and frantically glanced at the blood and gore that covered the bathroom. With shaking hands, I led Michael through the hallway toward the front door. Michael must have heard me sputtering and freaking out as we traveled down the hall.

  He chuckled through his pain and put his free hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Cass, it’s okay. I need you to calm down.”

  “I can’t,” I sobbed. “I did this to you.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he insisted. “You saved my life. All I care about is that we’re safe.”

  His hands clumsily grazed across my cheek and found a tear.

  “Don’t cry,” he pleaded. “Please. Don’t cry.”

  I nodded shakily and led him out of the townhouse. He made it down the stairs with surprising ease, and we quickly made it to the car. He groaned with pain every step and collapsed in the passenger seat. I threw myself around the hood of the car and climbed inside. I spoke in a voice stronger than I felt. “Michael, talk to me. I don’t want you passing out while we’re in transit. How’s your pain?”

  “Not nearly as bad as before,” he responded, groaning.

  “That’s good. Don’t focus on the pain. We’re almost there.”

  “I think…I think it worked,” Michael mumbled. “I don’t sense him anymore.”

  “Keep your eyes closed just in case.”

  I floored the engine and pulled right up to the valet at the emergency room. The young man’s eyes grew wide when I threw the keys at him and helped Michael from his seat. The man shouted for a nurse, and quickly a stout woman in scrubs met us with a wheelchair in the entryway. Before I could say anything more, Michael was rolled into triage. Once they saw the severity of his injury, they called for a bed and shouted for as many doctors as they could muster. I watched as they wheeled him away for emergency surgery, my heart aching.

  I was alone, without answers, without Michael, and without any idea of what was supposed to happen now. The guilt gnawed at me. He’s here because of the danger I’d put him in, and he was in surgery because of what I’d done trying to fix it. Even though I knew it was the only choice we had, I couldn’t shake the heavy blame. My hands were still shaking and coated with Michael’s blood. I fished my phone out of my bag and called the only person I could think of.

  She answered groggily on the third ring, “Cassandra? What’s going on? Why are you calling me so late?”

  “Hey, Mom,” I whispered, the agony clear in my voice. “I need you.”

  T wo hours later, Mom was sitting with me in the hospital waiting room. She put her arm around my shoulder as I sipped the coffee she brought me, and glanced anxiously toward the door. “Don’t worry, Hon. They’ll be here soon.”

  Michael’s parents were terrified and angry when I called them to let them know what was going on. They were driving from Anaheim and should be arriving at any minute. While we waited, Mom took me to the bathroom and cleaned the blood from my face and hands. She helped me change into the clothes she brought for me. I may have looked okay, but I was far from it.

  Mom and I were in the surgical waiting room, waiting for news from anyone about when Michael would be out of surgery and his prognosis. I would never forgive myself for what happened. I was officially a monster.

  Just then, the door flew open, and Mr. and Mrs. Godwin stormed in from the sterile hallway.

  “Where is he?” Mrs. Godwin demanded.

  I rose to greet them but, when she took an angry step toward me, I shifted backward. “Michael’s still in surgery.”

  As if on cue, one of the surgeons came out and approached the four of us cautiously. “Are you Ms. Williams?”
<
br />   “I am.”

  “I’d like to talk to you about Michael.”

  I exhaled slowly and willed my shaking knees not to give out on me. “Is he going to be okay?”

  His father stepped forward and snapped, “Anything you have to say about Michael, you can say to us. We’re his parents.”

  The surgeon appeared uncomfortable with the tense dynamic between us. “Yes, well, I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that we were able to stop the bleeding and cauterize the wound caused by the accident. The bad news is that the eye is completely gone. There’s a deep hole over the ocular socket. He’s looking at a long recovery. We’d like to keep him in the hospital for a few more days and then fit him for a glass eye if he’s interested.”

  I nodded. “So, does he still have vision in his right eye?”

  “He should have full vision in that eye. The damage was limited to the one that was destroyed.”

  I shook the doctor's hand, shaking with relief, and said, “Thank you, Doctor.”

  He nodded, then turned to walk back through the set of heavy double doors.

  Mom placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Well, that’s a relief. He’s going to be okay.”

  Michael's father growled at us. “How was anything he said reassuring? I want to know what happened to our son!”

  “Mr. Godwin, I’m sure Michael will explain it to you when he wakes up,” I told him.

  The nurse ushered us from the doorway, and I glanced at the Godwins’ backs apprehensively before following them through the doors to a recovery suite.

  Michael was asleep on the hospital bed with the left side of his face wrapped in gauze. He was hooked up to an IV of fluid. My heart lurched at the sight of him, and Mrs. Godwin burst into tears.

  Stepping back, the nurse said, “Try to remember that Michael is going to be okay. He’s been through a lot, but he’ll be fine.”

  Mrs. Godwin frowned. “Thank you for that, but I don’t think anyone asked for your opinion.”

  The poor woman staggered backward at the unexpected hostility and quickly left the room. I turned to Mrs. Godwin. She was red from crying and murmured to herself, “I can’t believe this is happening.”