Deadly Sin (Cassandra Farbanks)

by Sonnet O'Dell

  “The three musketeers.”

  “Vincent, enough. You have to stop,” said Sienna, the first to grasp the situation. Vincent ignored his old master. Aram bent down by his head latched to my neck like a limpet.

  “Stop,” he growled. The sucking stopped and Vincent rolled his eyes up to Aram. “Let her go.” Vincent pulled back, his mouth slack, fangs extended and my blood smeared over the lower half of his face. His pink tongue darted around trying to lap it all up.

  “Enough,” said Aram in an authoritative voice. The same voice used when telling me I belonged to him. I giggled again.

  “But she tastes so good,” he said in a pleading voice. Jareth now knelt by my head and touched my neck. He checked my pulse.

  “It’s steady,” he said. I watched him place his bloodied fingers in his mouth. He shuddered. “She does taste good.” Both Aram and Vincent growled at him. I felt my spine arch as the flesh on my neck began to slowly knit back together. I whimpered with the new pain. Aram mistook my noises as fear.

  “Vincent, back away, off my Cassandra.”

  “Cassandra?” He backed off, appearing to just acquaint my name with the woman he’d been feeding off of.

  “Drink!” said Sienna handing him a bottle of what looked like donated blood. Vincent took it but held it motionless. Something like himself was creeping back into his eyes.

  “Is she all right?”

  “Drink!” Aram, mopping at my neck wound, snarled in response. Vincent put the bottle to his lips and glugged from it. After a minute he was totally enraptured.

  “You’re his maker,” I said to Aram in a wheeze. Aram looked at Vincent then back at me.

  “It appears so, though I don’t recall turning him. If I had any idea, you would not have been allowed alone in the room with him.”

  “Um, why am I naked?” Vincent finishing his snack looked down at himself. I giggled again.

  “The naked vampire…sounds like Jamie Oliver gone preternatural.”

  “Who is it she talks about?” asked Jareth.

  “I think she’s delusional from the blood loss.”

  “I think CJ keeps a supply of those sports drinks. She should have one or two.” I tried to sit up but didn’t quite manage it. My head spun like I’d been twirling in circles. The room tilted at unpleasant angle and I felt like puking. A vaguely neon-colored bottle was placed to my lips and I felt the liquid spill down my throat. It seemed to bypass my tongue completely. After a minute my stomach stilled, as did the room. The empty bottle was pulled away from me. I looked up at Aram blinking my vision into focus.

  “Another?” he asked. A second bottle was pressed to my lips. After the first few mouthfuls I gagged able to taste again, and spat back into the bottle.

  “Ugh, enough.” I pulled my hand up, scrubbing at my mouth with the intact sleeve.

  “Cassandra, you must. You’ve lost much blood.”

  “No,” I said pushing it away. “I’ve not eaten in days. All you’re doing is making my stomach all sloshy. I need a cheeseburger.” I managed to sit up. A shadow fell across us from someone else blocking the light from the open doorway.

  “What’s going on?” asked Tarquin in a timid voice. I turned to look at him. He was carrying two plastic bags stuffed with clothes. He dropped both when he saw his brother adjusting the sheet to cover himself better. Tarquin dropped to his knees and threw his arms around his brother.

  “You’re okay? You’re all right?” Tarquin sobbed softly against his shoulder. Vincent’s reaction was typical of most young vampires. His fangs peeked out from under his lip and he nuzzled his exposed neck. Tarquin froze, but Sienna was quick to haul him out of the way. Vincent hissed. Tarquin was confused, wide eyed as he looked at the twisted visage of his twin. Sienna placed two pale hands on either side of his face, turning him to look at him.

  “Tarquin I have a new task for you,” he said. I could feel the power in his voice. “We need sustenance for Cassandra, cheeseburgers. Fetch these and come back soon.” Tarquin nodded slowly pushing up to his feet and stumbled out the doorway.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I ate six cheeseburgers, two packs of fries and two milkshakes before I felt better. I sat at the table in Jareth’s suite rubbing my full belly and feeling strength begin to course back through my body. I called Trinket to let her know I was okay and sent her to Truth for her own protection. The last thing I wanted was for Rin to try to use her against me, as a hostage. Trinket had protested at first, but I forced her to hear my side and she agreed to go. Now all I had to do was figure out what I was going to do.

  Rin was powerful. He got through my wards. My place, and any other like it, was not safe. He hadn’t dared come into Dante’s yet. No mortal wizard with any intelligence liked dueling with vampires. Spells took time and precision to craft correctly, and a vampire could have your throat out before you could utter a spell. An immortal didn’t have the same fears of death. Although his immense power made him seem like more, he was merely mortal. This meant he was vulnerable. Unless he hadn’t attacked because he’d been writhing in sexual frustration for the last three days, backlash from his own spell.

  “So many thoughts fluttering across your face, pet. What troubles you?” I looked up from the empty food bag in front of me. Aram sat on the end of his brother’s bed, carved in a darker wood with a red cast. The figures in the grain coiled around each other like vines almost lewd. Jareth leaned against a chest of drawers in the same shade, his eyes unfocused, staring at nothing and vampire still.

  “I don’t think he’s going to stop,” I said in almost a whisper. If Aram knew who I meant he said nothing but let me drift back to my own thoughts. Rin was eventually coming after me again. This I knew without a doubt. He wasn’t going to let me escape. He’d said as much. I was his ticket to something. Something he craved so desperately, I couldn’t believe for a minute that anything but his death would halt his pursuit. I couldn’t surround myself with vampires indefinitely. They slept all day. All he would have to do is burn the building to the ground. I would survive the fire, but the vampires… I couldn’t bare for someone else I cared about to get hurt. I would have to find another way.

  I pushed to my feet. Aram and Jareth both moved in response to my motion.

  “What are you doing?” They asked in scary unison.

  “I have to go. I can’t stay here.” The more I thought about it, the more I realized the only reason he wouldn’t have attacked in the last three nights was because he’d been as out of it as I was. Aram reached out for me but I spun out of his grip.

  “Aram, it’s not goodbye. It’s just, see you later. I promise.”

  “You are safe here,” he pleaded with me. Jareth watched me from over Aram’s shoulder. I could tell he didn’t completely agree with his brother’s assessment. He, like me, was a practical thinker.

  “Till morning… You can’t defend me or yourself when you are down for the day. I will not have him hurt anyone else to get to me.”

  “Think about this,” said Jareth softly, “you do not want to go making rash decisions.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. He was right. It was no good leaving what little protection I had without having a solid plan in place. I crossed back to the table and took a pen and paper. I scrawled out a list and handed it to Jareth. He scanned it.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s a list of things I need from my apartment and where they are located. You’re the only vampire here that can enter without me needing to expose myself to attack. There is a sports duffle under the bed. Just put it all in there. When you get back I should have a plan.” He looked skeptical. “Jareth, please.” My pleading did it.

  “I shall do this,” he said with a regal nod.

  “Jareth, be careful,” I warned. “He’s a dangerous man.”

  * * * *

  I threw the duffle down on Detective Sergeant Butcher’s desk making him jump and look up at me. He grimaced when he registered who it was standing there.
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked smug.

  “Hamilton isn’t here.”

  Of all the things he could say to me that was the one I couldn’t handle hearing. Panic rose up from my gut. I needed Hamilton. My entire plan revolved around the fact that I knew he would help me if I asked him. I hope he hadn’t gone far.

  “Where is he?” Part of me expected him not to give me an answer, but he wanted to rub it in, just a little.

  “He blew out of here in a mad rush a few days ago. Said he needed to take care of some family business and didn’t know when he would be back. I’m in charge while he’s gone.” I looked dejectedly at the floor. There went my plan. I looked around the room thankful that all but one other desk was empty. Its occupant seemed to be taking a nap, his head resting on a stack of folders. I gave Butcher my best, reasonable face and kept my voice low.

  “I need help.”

  “Tell it to someone who cares sweetheart.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “So am I! I’m not Hamilton. You can’t come in here, bat your eyes at me and get what you want. I am immune to your charms.” He held up his hand to display his wedding band as if some magical talisman warding me off. I stuck out my bottom lip and snatched my bag. I wouldn’t let him know how much it hurt my feelings that he thought I was some kind of slut. Given the all too recent events in my life, it hit too close to home. My fingers curled around the handles. He flinched and I pulled it off his desk.

  “Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you?” I turned my back on him and headed for the door. When his voice sounded behind me I had the brief flicker of hope that he’d changed his mind.

  “I don’t really hate you,” he said, “it’s just that if you were on fire, I’d roast marshmallows.”

  The door actually hit me in the ass on my way out. I made it to the stairwell before I slumped down and started to cry. Anger and fear overwhelmed me and made my eyes water unbearably. I buried my face in my hands.

  “Cassandra?” I looked up to see Ro staring at me from the landing below. I rubbed my eyes trying to hide how red they were. Ro took a step up and then another, slowly lowering herself next to me, like I was an animal that might spook and run off. When Ro gripped my shoulder in a comforting way the tears coursed down my cheeks again.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked in her softest voice.

  “I’m in trouble and I really need help.”

  I was in for a shock after this confession. She picked up my bag and took me down to Rourke’s office. Rourke looked up from paperwork. I swear the woman was perpetually doing paperwork. She looked confused. I suppose I was the last person she wanted or expected to see right now, and it made me feel uneasy. When she saw the drying tear tracks on my face and healing bruises on my neck, something like concern showed in her expression.

  “What happened?”

  I waited for her to offer me a chair before I took it. I couldn’t remember how much she knew about my stalker so I told her everything. To her credit, she didn’t say anything while I spoke. She didn’t flinch or interrupt. From the other side of her desk she examined the bruises on my neck with her sharp, cop eyes. It all tumbled out, my fear and how I tried fighting him but couldn’t get the upper hand. I choked on the words when I got to the part about what he tried to do to me at my apartment. Rourke’s eyes widened a little, but I couldn’t discern the emotion. Was it shock or fear? Concern again, perhaps?

  Ro stood with her hand on the back of my chair, clearly on my side. Rourke leaned her chair back and it gave a loud squeak. She pursed her fingers and deliberated.

  “And why should I help?”

  “Samantha!” admonished Ro. I raised my hand up to touch Ro’s, shaking my head.

  “No, she’s right. She has every reason not to help me. I wouldn’t for a minute, assume to think that she would help me out of concern for my well-being. Or because, when someone’s in trouble, that’s what you do.” Rourke didn’t blink or look offended. She was used to our bitter assessments of each other, and waited. I dried my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt.

  “You should help me because I’m the perfect bait in a trap to catch a murderer, a collar that could finally get you out of PCU.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Safe…Giving protection…House to provide accommodation. To cover, in case. In my mind, these words should have made me feel better, but they didn’t. The place they’d chosen to hide me, one in a row of houses that bordered the river bank, did not make me feel safe. The police acquired it at a discount after the last lot of autumn floods had chased the previous owners away Rourke told me. If the water could get in then what would stop Rin? I also didn’t like the sleeping families on either side. They could be collateral damage, but evacuating the houses would be a big tip off that this was where I was. Not that I didn’t think Rin would find me eventually.

  Rourke reluctantly let me cast a spell over the entrance into the house to bar anyone who meant me harm, and a tiny shield at every window and door. I wanted to take every precaution. Rin might easily blow through my spell, but it would take him a couple of minutes to push it aside. In a fight, any extra time on your side is a good thing.

  I sat on the faded red loveseat in the sparsely furnished sitting room. The wall paper peeled up from the floor where damp had set in. The carpet’s odor, like wet cat, stung my nose as I sat there. There were five armed police officers in the building. One was upstairs, two watching the front door from the hall, one watching the back door from the kitchen, and Rourke leaning against the wall next to a crumbling fireplace on the east wall. I began to believe the police budget didn’t cover interior decorating. The faded white curtains with blue daisies hung limply over the window, concealing us from view. I imagined brand new they might have been pretty, but the wrinkles in the material from being folded and boxed up repeatedly made even the flowers seem droopy. I set up my locket’s crystal charger on the only other piece of furniture in the room, a low slung coffee table that looked like it came out of the sixties and wobbled unsteadily whenever you touched it. I watched the locket charge for lack of anything better to do. I wished I’d asked Jareth to grab me a book. I had a worn pile of paperbacks I got from a secondhand bookstore that I was trying to work my way through. Instead, I watched as light in each crystal, the magic energy generated seemingly naturally, drained into the locket, charging it for another round. Three crystals, three days.

  Rin was coming and I needed to be prepared. Why didn’t I just hide out in the normal world? It had to be safer than sitting here waiting for him to find me, right?

  There were two reasons why I didn’t take the easy way out. One, I had no idea what damage he could or would do while I hid over there and he couldn’t find me. He was powerful and would be wicked pissed. When your quarry goes to ground, leave no ground to go to. I couldn’t risk him hurting everyone I knew to make sure they weren’t sheltering me. I could never live with the guilt. Secondly, I was Cassandra Farbanks and I was not a coward. Yes, Rin scared me. His agenda and power made me shiver with loathing and fear. But I would fight him with every ounce of strength I had, even if the best way was to be bait in a trap to catch him. There was a small part of me that whispered we couldn’t win, but I told it to shut the hell up.

  The last crystal drained and I felt the circuit break like the timer on an oven going off in my head. I pulled the locket delicately out from between them and fastened the silver chain around my neck.

  “What is that?” Rourke asked, speaking to me for the first time in hours. I stroked the two delicate doves with my index finger. “You’re always wearing it.”

  I didn’t always wear it, but usually when I was working alongside her I had it on.

  “It’s a spell. Extra security, to help me stay here and fight.”

  “Courage?”

  “Something like that.” I lied. It was nothing at all like that.

  “Your many things Farbanks, but I’ve never known you to be chicken.” I
gave her a weak smile.

  “Thank you. I think that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” Rourke harrumphed. Since she deigned to talk to me, I tried to keep the conversation going.

  “Why isn’t Ben here?” Rourke’s detective sergeant was like her personal shadow. She seemed incomplete without him. Rourke’s shoulders stiffened.

  “He’s taking some time off. Psych recommended it.” She turned her big body towards me, her jaw set in a truculent line and her eyes burning with anger. “You scared him pretty damn badly. He was blubbering like an idiot. Then after you left, he went dead quiet. I thought he’d gone catatonic. Just when I was going to call the doctors in, he stood up and politely asked to see psych.” I looked down at my hands.

  “I don’t suppose saying I’m sorry would cover it.”

  “No,” she said through gritted teeth. I looked up at her so that she could see I was sincere.

  “I’ll say it anyway. I lost control of myself and I’m very sorry.” Rourke crossed her arms over her chest but her eyes became less an inferno and more of a pissed smolder.

  “What are you Farbanks?” I blinked sheepishly.

  “I beg your pardon?” I asked, sure I hadn’t heard her right.

  “I called the council of wizards to report you. They told me that they only deal with humans misusing their magic. That you were not their concern, although they seemed all too painfully aware of who you are.” I made a big O with my mouth and looked at the coffee table trying to think of a way to answer.

  The doorbell rang and Rourke twitched. She slid over the floor to the curtain. Lifting back the edge to peer outside, she let the curtain fall back into place with an angry swish.

  “Who ordered pizza? I told you to go out to get food.” No one answered her. The doorbell pinged again. Rourke rubbed her temples. “Get the door.”

  I listened to the door open, words exchanged then the door shut again. One of the uniformed men from the hall brought in two, large pizza boxes. I packed the crystals away in my duffle so that he could put them down on the table. It wobbled as he did so.