Cassandra Cassandra Farrelli: Scarlet Women Book 1

I opened my eyes— I had no idea how long it had been since Cassandra had taken control of my body, nor did I want her to recount anything that had happened between her and Lucas, not that she was likely to tell me, hopefully. It took my eyes a few moments to focus but while they did my ears caught the sounds of a roaring fireplace and I was aware that this room was large, almost cavernous, the sound of the flames echoing around me like pieces of paper being ripped slowly over and over again. I blinked in the soft yellow light as my eyesight finally came to focus, I was sitting in the middle of a massive room with marble columns and tiled frescoed walls and a vaulted ceiling, the only light in the room coming from a lamp on a golden table next to me and the fireplace only a few feet from the divan I was lounging on. I knew I must still be under St. Mary’s the air was close despite the appearance of the high ceiling and large chamber. This room seemed so out of place, like it belonged somewhere else from another time altogether, from the time of the ancient Greek or Romans. Perhaps it was a copy of an actual room in another place across the globe— I mean Lucas had been around, perhaps he fancied Greek and Roman architecture.

There was a squeak behind me, as if a door opened just out of my view. I wanted to jump up, to turn to see who was there, especially since I had no recollection of how I had gotten into this room and if it was Lucas I wanted to run but I found I had had little energy, and that while I cared about who might be walking towards me, I was almost not able to move. Where was Cassandra? Surely she could tell me what was going on! I took a deep breath, my body felt odd as if I wasn’t fully in control of it— was Cassandra still in control? I shook my head and there was the tinkling of the pearls from around my neck. No, I was in control of my body, so why couldn’t I move?

“Mother, please, sit still.” There was a hand on my arm, Mark, it sounded like Mark. “You know how sick you were! Just rest, like you’ve been asked.”

Please let it be Mark, I’d prefer him to Topher any day, he was kinder and he knew that Cassandra, his mother, was in my head. “Mark?”

Mark’s concerned voice entered my field of vision. “Mother?” He sat down beside me on the divan, taking my hands in his own.

I stared down at my hands engulfed in his— there were bracelets and rings gracing my hands that I didn’t remember, and my skin was a golden brown as if I had spent a long summer out in the sun, which wasn’t possible because it was December, and snowing outside the last I remembered.

“Is it you mother?”

Shoot. How did Cassandra talk to Mark? “Yes, love?”

“So it’s you.”

Rats. “Yes, it’s me, Cassandra.”

“Finally after all this time— I was wondering when I would get to talk to you.”

“It’s pitiful to be seen through so easily. What gave me away? Does she have a different tone? I don’t get it— how does she pull off being me so well?”

“Do you know how long you’ve been repressed, Cassandra?”

What was Mark talking about? I’d been out for a night— that was all. Just a night. I shifted again, my body feeling so foreign. Panic began to sift through me, something was not right. “What is wrong, why can’t I sit up? Am I sick? What did your mother do to me?”

“Here, let me help you,” Mark grabbed my arm and helped me out of my lounging position to sit up, and as he did I became increasingly aware that my abdomen was swollen to enormous size. I gasped, a realization sinking in on me. “Cassandra… Please stay calm.”

“But-but… she told me I could tap out— she told me that it was just for the night, so said…”

“I know. But I begged her not to go. You have to understand, I’ve spent my whole life wondering what my mother was like— it is, I suppose an alien concept for you to understand but no Nephilim has ever had the opportunity to get to know their mother, we accept that we were born and our mothers gave themselves willingly to bring us into existence, but we don’t know motherly embrace or motherly love.”

I shivered. My mother, how must she be feeling right now? But that wasn’t the point, the point was that Cassandra and I had a deal, I was destined to die and I wasn’t going to cower and hide in my mind while Cassandra took the bullet for me— she had already lived her life and died for this same reason. “Mark, I understand that you wanted to know her, but she blocked me out! How can you ask me to be calm?”

“My selfishness aside, you were so sick in the beginning, of the pregnancy that you almost died. You couldn’t eat— nothing we gave you would stay down, and we couldn’t take you to the hospital, you having been reported as missing… Trust me when I say that my mother was actually trying to be compassionate by keeping you from having those memories.”

“Compassionate or not, she had no right.” There was a fluttering in me that felt so odd, but I knew what it was. “How long?” I put my hands on my stomach and held them there. “How long was I, what did you say? Repressed?” I stared down at my arms, they were so gold, so tanned— “What month is it? Have I been outside recently? Why am I so tanned? Mark?!”

Mark stood and paced before the fireplace. “Mother said you had to know eventually, but I told her that waiting this long was a mistake, I told her-”

“MARK.” I hadn’t met to shout, but the child, if it was a child and not a monster in me, kicked my side so hard that my words came out harsher than I intended. I felt queasy. So Lucas had made his mark, and now I was going to die. I don’t know why I was so surprised, I had known this was coming, perhaps I thought I would have longer to contemplate my life.

Mark rushed to my side. “Mother!… I mean, Cassandra, I’m so sorry— it’s difficult for me.”

“Me too.” I hissed. I had no memories of being pregnant and here I was sitting close to a due date that was going to bring about a life but also the end of mine. So much for Cassandra’s grand plan to save my life.

“Are you okay?”

I bit my lip and nodded, even though it was a lie. Mark was just trying to be kind after all. It wasn’t his fault his father was the devil and his mother was my ancestor who had cursed my family. It would all end with me, I tried to console myself with this thought. It was almost over. “Mark just tell me how long, how long do I have?”

“Well-” There was a low humming from Mark’s pocket. “Just a second, it’s probably Topher, he was out sweeping the cemetery.” Mark pulled out a small silver phone and stared at it, reluctant to end our conversation but also aware he had to answer Topher.

“Why?” Cassandra hadn’t told me much about what the Nephilim’s ‘job’ description was, but I had always felt like that was because she didn’t actually know.

“It’s part of our duty as The Guard to give refuge to any wanderer, be it fae, werewolf, or shapeshifter who is in need.” Mark’s phone kept buzzing. “I have to get this. Toph usually hangs up if he just wants to chat if I haven’t responded by now... he must need my help. But here,” Mark held out a tan backpack toward me. “Mom wanted you to have this obviously. Take it— and drink all of the liquid in the container, that’s all I know. Maybe the things in this bag will help you understand what is going on, maybe-” Bzzzzzzzz. “Yes, Toph?” Mark walked away and I heard the door swinging open than shut as he left me alone with the tan bag weighing heavy in my hand.

“Well, Cassandra— if there was any time to pop up and explain yourself and this master plan that you had to save us it would be now!” But of course, she would remain silent now that I was unrepressed or whatever the heck she had done to me. I opened the bag, there wasn’t a lot of items in it, just a few neatly folded newspapers and a metal thermos. I pulled the items out and put them on the divan beside me except for the newspaper that was folded on the top of the pile. I unfolded it and stared at the cover. I shouldn’t have been shocked but I was, as I stared at my face looking back at me with the headline over my picture reading, ‘Tragic story, Teenage Girl Goes Missing December 15th.’ My heart nearly broke as my eyes scanned the text under the picture. ‘Cassandra Pirot, the only daughter of Mariah and her late husband Ray goes missing only days before Christmas-- Father Ray Pirot offering a reward for any news about his daughter’s whereabouts. Last seen in a blue plaid shirt and blue jeans, the teen never arrived home after her final exams at Acroft High, the city’s most prestigious school. The teen has been missing for a month, local police are not optimistic about finding her well and alive— but her father refuses to give up hope. If you know anything about this please call it in.’

The paper slipped from my fingers, as I allowed the news to sink in, the realization of what I had done to my mom and Ray— though there was nothing I could have done to get out of it. I picked up the papers, and counted them slowly— Cassandra had been very clever… there were nine papers, nine, one for every month. I scanned the dates at the top of the papers— one from every fifteenth of the month, from the date that I went missing till now. That meant I was almost at the end of this wretched pregnancy, but it also meant I had very little time left to even be alive. The last paper had a title that punched a hole through my chest, ‘Pirot Family have a memorial for their daughter, Cassandra Pirot, who went missing just nine months ago, saying, it’s time to say goodbye.’ It’s an odd thing to see a headline about a memorial for yourself when you’re still alive, but you can’t ever go back. I pulled the wad of papers to my chest and took a deep breath. I had missed the smell of books, of paper, of my old life, and the newspaper had that smell that I loved, it took me back to before all this wretched business had started. If I was honest with myself, I missed going to the library and burying myself in academia— of being that normal nerdy girl who wanted to graduate and travel the world. I missed my best friend, Mels, and how she was right about everything… and mostly I missed my mom.

I pushed myself to my feet the papers clenched in one hand the metal thermos in the other, and waddled the few feet to the fireplace and threw the papers in the fire, I had no life to go back to— this was the end for me. I watched the pages curl and disintegrate in the flames and wondered if this was how my father, my real father, Eli had felt when he had watched his own life falling apart around himself, sickness and disease claiming his life until he knew he could no longer go back to the life that he had once lived even though it meant leaving me and mom by ourselves and full of sorrow. I hadn’t thought of my father for a long time, there had been so much going on, but now that I too was facing death I missed him so much.

I stared at the thermos— what horror awaited me in there? Knowing Cassandra, it was something most likely horrid, smelly and disgusting. How often had I awoken with a taste of metal on my tongue? Sighing I twisted the lid off and almost gagged at the putrid smell from within. “Oh God, what is that?” Red liquid sloshed around in the metal tin. I knew what it was, my mind wanted to deny that this was actually blood.

“Yes. Tell me how horrible I am. But you don’t understand— this is the only way.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you would show up.” I hissed.

“Do you blame me for wanting to spend time with my children?”

Again my thoughts strayed to my father, I would have given anything to have spent just one more day with him. “No, of course not, but what is this?” I held the container up, which was silly— as if she could see what I was doing with the thermos! She was in my brain, not standing in front of me.

“It’s not just blood.”

“Eww... I am not-”

“It’s vampire blood.”

“And why do I have it? And why do you want me to drink it?”

“It’s the loophole I found— the one I should have used so long ago if only I could have thought of it sooner.”

“Okay, want to explain, miss cryptic?”

“I started getting you to drink that months and months ago— when I saw all those memories in your head from all the other copies of me, I realized I was done having Pureblood Nephilim for this monster. Now there was no way to get out of the curse, but there was a way to corrupt the seed. By making it a part vampire. All I had to do was to give large amounts of blood over time to a vampire and-”

“Wait— you let some vamp feed on MY BODY?”

“Oh calm down. What Violet did, she did to keep us safe. But the problem was coming here. I knew that Lucas would never let me out of his sight, and I needed the vampire blood to stay in my system— so Violet has been sending me some every month. This is the last of it.”

“I don’t understand— how is this going to save me?”

“You’re not going to die you, idiot. I mean you will, but then you’ll come back to life, as a truly immortal being.”

“Wait— as a vampire? What if I don’t want to be a vampire for the rest of my life— didn’t you ever contemplate that? Or what if it doesn’t work? Or-”

“Shut up! Someone’s coming! Drink it now, or Topher will find out and tell Lucas, and then it really won’t work!”

I didn’t know if Cassandra was telling me the truth, but what option did I have? I pinched the bridge of my nose and downed the entire contents of the thermos. I can’t begin to explain the way it oozed like sludge down my throat or the sickening sensation that this item did not belong in my mouth. I gagged a few times but finally managed to swallow.

“Put the thermos back in the bag, Mark will get rid of the evidence, and quickly sit. No one must know what you just did. It’s forbidden, to drink vampire blood.”

I put the lid back on the thermos as I shuffled back toward the divan. I could hear voices as I sat down, quickly shoved the thermos into the bag and stowed the bag under the hanging fringe hoping it would be out of sight below me.

“Christopher, slow down!”

I didn’t recognize who was speaking but for some reason, I knew I’d heard that voice somewhere before, which was odd, where had I heard that voice? My heart jumped— but not because I felt something at the sound of the girl’s voice. “Cassandra?”

“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t think you’re equipped to deal with this situation— I’m taking over.”

“Casssssandra. I will not be put back into whatever repression again! Do you know how much of my life you wasted, my very short, human lift? I-”

“I never said I would do that again— you can watch the events unfold I-”

There was a knock on the door. I felt Cassandra take over control of my body as I again became an observer in my own skin. “Come in.”

The door squeaked open and I heard the sound of two sets of feet stomping across the floor. Topher came to a stop beside the divan a thin lanky girl a few steps behind him.

“Cassandra.” He bowed.

The girl was most intriguing I think because I knew I’d heard her voice before, but also because I could feel how invested Cassandra was into talking to her. Who was she? More importantly, who was she to Cassandra?

“Ah, Christopher darling, has your Father taken in another lost soul under his wing?”

Christopher sighed and nodded but his face said he was anything but pleased. “Marissa, this is Cassandra, my Father’s current wife.”

I felt my face break into a smile, which was strange because it was the opposite of how I really felt. I was repulsed. “Darling, you know your Father has several wives, but I am his favorite.” Cassandra made my hands pat my belly as if she was proud— when I knew she felt just as repulsed as I did. I had never been as good a liar as her. I never would be. “And soon you shall have another sibling dear Topher, and I hope for your sake it’s a girl, that you finally learn some manners on how to treat a woman.”

What a joke. Cassandra had told me, even Lucas had told me, all Nephilim are born male. It was the reason they needed to take human brides, and if Topher was six thousand years old, he knew that too.

“The day I learn those masculine graces you so want me to learn— is the day I die.”

“If you never wish to fall in love, then you must place yourself in a box far away from any living soul and pray you are never found.” The girl, Marissa, spat.

Interesting. I watched them and Cassandra watched them. Marissa was not quite as tall as Topher but in this light, I was surprised how similar she looked to Topher. Sure, he had hair the color of wheat, while her hair was thick and black as night— a wild tattoo of roses and thorns running up her jaw and twisting around her eye and forehead— but basically their facial structure was the same, so was the way they leaned forward when they were angry. How odd that they should look so similar. Wait—was this a part of Cassandra’s past? Hadn’t she mentioned some vampire? Who was it… Marcus something? Had she had children with him? Was this like her great, great, great however many times removed granddaughter?

“Cassandra? Is Marissa like your great times' however many removed granddaughter?”

I don’t know if she heard me or was choosing to ignore me.

“Cassandra?”

“She’s my daughter.”

Good thing I wasn’t in control of my body when I heard that piece of news, I would have fainted. But how was that possible? This girl couldn’t be thousands of years old, could she?

“Yes, it seems impossible, doesn’t it? My beautiful child, so young and yet so ancient, stolen from me before she was born— I never thought I would get to know her, never thought I would see the day she was actually born and grown.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Her earthly body is eleven or twelve in years but her soul is ancient.”

That didn’t make sense but I knew Cassandra wasn’t likely to tell me any more than that, so I pulled myself out of my mind and back to watching the scene unfold before me.

“Though it has been something I have managed to keep away from.” Topher hissed. “And plan on continuing to do so. Everything has its consequences.”

Cassandra threw back her head and I felt a laugh escape my lips, but for what reason I did not understand, was she laughing at Topher or the oddness of the situation. “Come now Marissa, let me show you to a room where you may rest.” I felt my legs underneath me as Cassandra pushed us to our feet. “Tomorrow you shall tell me all about this love of yours, I can sense you miss him already.”

Wait, this girl was in love? Hadn’t Cassandra just made the point of telling me how young Marissa was? My brain hurt.

Topher bowed slightly and excused himself mumbling under his breath about some feminine nonsense or whatever until he made his way out of the room leaving Marissa alone with Cassandra who held out her hand toward Marissa who took it gratefully. More gracefully than I had been able to, Cassandra waddled us out of the room by another door that had been hidden behind a hanging tapestry and into a room just off a hallway adjacent from the marble sitting room.

“This is our guest room. Come, you must be tired after such a long day.” Cassandra pulled back the covers and helped Marissa into the bed, tucking her in as if she was a child, when she looked as if she was fifteen or sixteen— for all I knew she was the same age as I was. What trouble was this girl having that she was found alone in a cemetery needing help? “You are so young.” Cassandra kissed her cold forehead as Marissa’s tired eyes closed. “So very young.” Cassandra brushed the hair from around Marissa’s face, and I felt tears slipping down my cheeks.

“I can’t be that much younger than you.” Marissa sighed, her eyes closed, already drifting off to sleep.

“I would have you know, that I am almost twenty.” Such a lie— but I guess I’d let it pass, I had missed my birthday, and Cassandra and I didn’t really talk about how old I was, to her twenty was probably old to be having kids. “Twenty is a good age I think.”

Marissa’s eyes opened as she stared up at Cassandra, looking so confused as one of Cassandra’s hands rested on her belly and the other on Marissa’s tattoo as if it was very precious. Another tear fell, splashing Marissa in the face. “The baby moved.” I still wasn’t used to this odd feeling. “Sleep well my child, sleep well. Nothing will harm you here, hush and sleep.” Marissa closed her eyes, and Cassandra went and sat in a chair by the door.

I was struck by how odd this situation was— and not for the first time I again wondered who this woman was, and how she had come to curse my family— this woman who had seemed so evil or different to me in every way and yet, she was a mother, a wife— one who had suffered, died, lost those she loved… did it justify her sins? I didn’t know if Cassandra was listening to my thoughts, or perhaps she could hear me and just didn’t care anymore.

“Hush little baby don’t say a word, Mama’s going to buy you a Mockingbird…” I suddenly realized it was my voice singing in the room— Cassandra had given me back control of my body, but I hadn’t even noticed. I thought of my mother, and how she and my father had used to sing this song to me. I thought of Marissa— had she known her mother, or at least the woman who had birthed her? Did she know who she was like I did? I continued to hum the tune, into the room, rocking on the chair. “And if that mockingbird doesn't sing, mama’s going to buy you a diamond ring…” I might not be safe here, but hopefully, Marissa would be. “You are safe here.” I closed my eyes suddenly so tired. “Safe.”