Heaven Sent

Chapter Four

                                               Elijah

Her eyes, translucent blue crystal in color, gleam against the flickering flame as the match burns down at a rapid pace. We've watched Cassandra move about the room in a concentrated daze, lighting candles on every surface. On the floor, resting within a circle of powder rests an oval mirror. The paint brush and tin can are on the table.

Erika finished painting the surface of the mirror black nearly an hour ago. While it's been drying, we've barely spoken a word, merely watching Cassandra whisper incantations to herself, to the scrying mirror. While I've made it my desire in life to steer clear of occultism, pagan rituals, usually finding that the vampires relying on such devotions to their masters are almost always the weakest of our kind, there is no doubting the gifted pose great threat when exposed to power granted by the darkness they seek.

That darkness lives in Cassandra.

She doesn't even seem to notice it. How the destructive flames gravitate and lean towards her as she moves, how the air pulsates around her curvaceous form, how the mirror seems to speak back to her musings, humming a language too low for my ears to decipher. Watching this is a revelation to us all, the first true glimpse of who she became, what actions are now second nature to her.

My gaze drifts to Paris, whose expression reflects my own. His eyes emotes deep concern as we prepare for uncharted ground. Framing Cassandra's eyes, her skin is rimmed red and a deep purple, a sign of deprivation, and yet, she won't rest. The devil himself possessed her body only hours ago and she's made no mention of it, uttered no complaints.

My hands are clasped tight in order to remain still, to quell my natural instincts to grab her and demand she listen. When the room has been brightened by candlelight, she stops moving for the first time in an hour, turning to the four of us.

"I need to be alone."

A scoff leaves me before I've even processed what she's saying. "Like hell."

"Elijah—"

"No."

Her sharp features harden at my insistence. To compromise in what little way I'll allow, I nod to the rest and they rise without argument, eying Cassandra warily on the way out. If a demeanor could be steel, she'd be impenetrable.

"I can feel your exhaustion."

She bends down, painting a seal onto the back of the mirror with her fingers. "Don't start."

"You're being reckless."

"Mhm."

"Bull-headed."

"Sure."

"Capracious."

"I'm finally onto something."

"Look at me." I lean forward impatiently as she straightens, snatching a towel to wipe her dipped fingers. "Cassandra."

I've gained her reluctant attention. I speak quickly before I lose it.

"I just got you back, today. There will be a hundred more days to search the void for answers."

"I was given this sign for a reason, Elijah. This could lead us to what could earn us our freedom."

"You were just invaded by the enemy. He was in you, using you to get to me. You flew at me with a goddamn blade."

"I know that."

I stare at her, holding my tongue. She sighs at my clear disappointment, tossing the towel down onto the table. She throws her arms up in defeat.