A/N: Guess who's baaaaaaaaack?! That's all I've got. I have no excuses for how horribly overdue this update was. Lol. Life, ya'll. That's all I've got. But hey, enjoy! I'm not promising any updates any time soon but I sure am hoping the muse keeps doing her work because she's been very giving this holiday season!
The Stars Between Us: Chapter Seven
"Finally getting some time alone. Excited?"
Charley smiled across the table at Modo. Beneath the table, their feet tangled playfully. She counted herself extremely lucky for moments like these, though Modo had told her numerous times now not to feel that way, that he was the one who should be grateful, which he also assured her every day, he was.
Since returning to her apartment, Modo had spent every night with her. He'd return to the Scoreboard every now and then but when she wasn't working, he was there and though she tried to feel bad that he wasn't spending nearly as much time with Throttle and Vinnie, she had to dig deep to feel that way most days.
Modo was all hers, and she loved it.
"I feel it necessary to point out that even with my sister and Vinnie here, that hasn't seemed to stop you any. Is there some kind of special treatment I should be expecting tonight?" She trailed off with a suggestive grin.
Modo leaned forward over the table. "You realize, Charley-girl, that we've never actually been alone."
She opened her mouth to retort and realized just how true his words were. They hadn't had a single night alone since they'd started up their relationship. And tonight they would be entirely alone, shut up in a hotel suite with the promise of no interruptions or guests to entertain. The thought that he was holding out somehow and that she was getting to see a reserved side of him sent a shiver of longing down her spine making it difficult to remain patient as they bided their time before they could check in.
"Come here," he growled softly. He snagged her hand and tugged gently, coaxing her out of her seat. She chuckled, letting him pull her into his lap and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck.
"Man, you two are like teenagers."
With a sigh, Charley pulled away and angled a glare on Vinnie as he interrupted their moment before doing a decidedly teenager thing and flipping him off.
He laughed, passing her and ruffling her hair on the way to the fridge "Mature, Charley-girl. When you guys planning on heading out?"
"'Bout a half an hour," Modo answered. "Got anything planned tonight?"
Vinnie popped the top off of a bottle of rootbeer, flicked it into the sink with a snap of his fingers and took a long pull before answering. "Place to myself? Not a damn thing! Kick back, watch some movies, clean out the last of the hotdogs…nothin' but peace and quiet for me, bro."
"Right," Charley muttered, hardly believing him. If there was one thing Vinnie didn't do, it was peace and quiet. "Stay out of my garage."
He saluted her with his bottle and a grin she didn't trust in the slightest. "You got it, ma'am."
"Seriously, Vin-."
"Jeez, Charley-girl, relax. I'm not going to go mess up your garage. Is it that hard to believe that I want a quiet night alone every once and a while?"
"Yes," Charley and Modo replied in unison.
Cassie joined them, striding into the kitchen wrapped in shimmering black satin and expensive perfume.
"Vinnie, help me with my necklace?" she asked, turning her back to him and smiling brightly at Modo and Charley. "Hey, I thought you two would be gone by now."
"Soon," Charley said. "That dress is amazing."
"Isn't it?" Cassie smoothed her hands over her stomach. The dress was elegant in its simplicity, spaghetti straps supporting a straight neckline and allowing the material to plunge dramatically into sweeping folds in the back. It fell in straight lines to just above the floor and a dangerously high slit showcased one leg and a black slingback stillhetto with a complicated network of thin straps.
"Thank god for my employee discount. You don't think it's too much?"
"For a corporate Christmas party with a black tie requirement? No. Perfect mix of sexy and professional."
"Emphasis on the sexy," Vinnie added, finally managing the clasp of her necklace; a chain of silver strung with delicate, aquamarine blown glass. He adjusted it so that the clasp was centered at the back of her neck and dropped his arm around her waist. "Maybe I should join you instead of hanging out here all night."
Cassie rolled her eyes. "I don't think black tie includes motorcycle helmets. Besides, you don't even own a suit, do you?"
"Modo owns one."
Modo arched a brow. "Do I really need to point out just how much it wouldn't fit you?"
"I completely forgot about that suit," Charley murmured, leveling a particularly hungry look on him. "Maybe we swing by the Scoreboard and pick it up?"
Vinnie made a sound of disgust. "Oh, for fuck sakes. Aren't you supposed to be leaving?"
With a grin, Modo stood and offered a hand to Charley. "Suppose if we have to swing by the Scoreboard, we should."
"Shut up," Vinnie groaned.
Charley laughed. "We're going. Cass, did you need a ride to your party?"
"Oh, that'd be great. Let me grab my coat quick. Vinnie, you're okay picking me up later?"
"Not a problem at all, babe. Just give me a call when you're ready. I'll be here not screwin' around in the garage," he said as he left the kitchen, calling out the last part in a pointed, sing-song voice.
Cassie shot a confused look at her sister and Charley shook her head. "Ignore him and go get your coat."
The three left minutes later, crossing into the untouched social hub of Chicago where office fronts boasted lavish holiday decor and street lamps dripped with lighted garlands and thick red ribbons.
Modo pulled up to the hotel the Christmas party was being held at, letting out a low whistle. "Fancy digs."
Cassie hummed in agreement. "The party's being hosted by some big wig with a lot of money to throw around. It was implied that my presence was mandatory along with every other department head. It sounds like the company is going out of their way to impress the guy."
"Well, try not to have too much fun," Charley said.
Cassie leveled her with a comically suggestive expression. "Should probably say the same to you."
"Smart ass."
Laughing, Cassie got out, standing on the curb long enough to wave goodbye before turning to climb the wide steps leading up to a row of glass hotel doors. A doorman greeted her, pushing the door open and nodding to her as she passed.
The hotel was too gold for her tastes, screaming not just rich but obnoxiously rich and wanting to make sure all who entered were well aware of it. Ornate vases filled with poinsettia and pine tree branches sat on highly polished walnut tables, evergreen boughs were strung in doorways and loaded with over-sized gold bulbs and a Christmas tree standing nearly fifteen feet high was decorated in golds, reds and silvers, white lights twinkling in its branches.
Cassie stopped at the front desk and was given directions down a hallway to one of the several ballrooms. She checked her coat and took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders before waltzing into the mass of bodies filling the huge room. Jazzy Christmas music was being played by a band across the room, each member wearing black and white suits. Waiters milled about the crowd, taking empty glasses and offering refills. The place was packed enough to make her feel like she could easily leave and no one would ever know, the contrasting colognes and perfumes so cloying in the warm air that she was sorely tempted to.
"Casandra!"
Never mind that idea…
Cassie turned, a smile ready on her face to greet her boss. Melinda LaPorte was a much older woman who had aged extremely gracefully, wearing high fashion like a second skin. Tonight she was draped in rich red satin and fur the same gray color as her artfully styled hair. She probably could have retired but was convinced the company would collapse without her around to run it. She was kind enough, but very loud and sometimes oblivious to how her statements came across passive aggressive and condescending. More than once she'd pointed out Cassie's beauty and made some off-handed comment about how it offended her. Like any other job, Cassie had learned to smile, let the comments roll off her shoulder and carry on with her day.
"Mrs. LaPorte," she said kindly, snagging a glass of what she hoped was a chilled white wine and not champagne from a waiter as he passed by with a tray.
"Darling please, Melinda." She was wrapped in deep emerald and fur, her gray hair artfully styled to frame a face carefully painted to hide every wrinkle and blemish. She took Cassie's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm so glad you decided to come."
Cassie forced her smile to stretch a little, "Of course. I wouldn't have missed it."
Or had the choice to do so…
"The host is a dear friend of mine. You'll have to meet him. Walter golfs with him regularly in the summer but with all the snow, he's hardly seen the man. They're catching up now. You look stunning, my dear. I do hope that's not one of ours that you had to alter to get it to fit you."
If her smile was any more tight or fake, Cassie's face would have cracked. "Oh no, this is a dress I've had in my closet for quite a while. Just waiting for the right occasion," she easily lied, sipping her wine and forcing herself not to down the entire glass in one go.
"I was thinking the style was a little dated." Melinda looked past her, waving. "There's Walter and Lawrence now! Over here, darling!"
Cassie took another sip of her wine, failing to restrain herself a little bit this time and almost finishing off half the glass before they were joined by two portly men and a smell that had Cassie almost choking her wine back up. She turned to see what could have caused such a vile stench and her stomach dropped as ice chilled her veins.
Staring down a bulbous nose at her with a mixture of interest and disdain was Limburger.
"Walter, dear..this is Casandra Davidson, our new assistant manager in women's health and beauty."
"Ah yes." Walter took her hand, bending over it and placing a kiss on her knuckles before leering up at her from a face that was all wrinkles and jowls. "I've heard so much about you. From Wisconsin, was it?"
Cassie gently pulled her hand free. "My family is from Wisconsin, yes. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Laporte."
"And this is Lawrence Limburger, our host and good friend," Melinda said, laying a hand on the sleeve of Limburger's gaudy purple suit. "Lawrence, Walter and I were just talking about how we've never seen you with a woman before. You know, Casandra here is single. Not entirely surprising."
Limburger's mouth pulled into a wide, horrifying smile that sparked a strong desire to run..or vomit. Cassie was torn between the two. "Indeed. Davidson, you said? Is there a possible relation to the Charlene Davidson that runs that quaint little garage on the East side?"
Cassie drained the rest of her glass as a tray passed and swapped it for another. "Yes, actually. Charley is my sister."
"Your sister? Well, what a small world." Something about his grin turned mildly sinister and set off warning bells in Cassie's head. "I suppose that means you know her…unusual friends as well."
Cassie knew he was baiting her. To what end, she had no clue. But she knew he had more to worry about than her so she smiled somewhat contemptuously and said, "Yes, I do know them." And because she wanted to drive the point home that he wasn't intimidating her, she added suggestively, "Some better than others."
His smile turned into more of a sneer and his gaze became shuttered. "Hm, how…fortunate for you, I suppose."
"Lawrence, you should take Casandra out and show her the city with all of the improvements you've made. She's so new, I doubt she has any idea what an integral part you have been to the development of Chicago. You could take her to that new restaurant at the Plaza-."
"If you'll excuse me," Cassie interrupted, needing an out fast and finding it among the crowd. "I see Becky and I wanted to follow up with her on some details to a purchase order."
"Of course dear, go." Melinda waved her off, clearly knowing her matchmaking was a waste of time.
Cassie didn't spare a glance for the men, moving away from them as quickly as possible and crossing the room to where Becky stood, talking and laughing with a younger man. She looked up as Cassie neared and waved. She was grateful the other woman had come, though her presence wasn't mandatory as Cassie's had been. Becky just loved a good holiday party and a chance to flirt, or so she'd said. Cassie had once felt the same way. Tonight was an odd twist of perspective for her - not wanting to flirt with anyone and just wishing she was back home in pajamas on the couch watching some sappy Christmas movie.
She was halfway across the room when it suddenly tilted and her vision blurred, bloodied soldiers taking the place of impecibley dressed men and women, shouting drowning out the din of the classical music.
Cassie staggered to a stop, her breath catching. She stood very still and the vision shifted back to the present, shouts replaced with laughter, flash bombs with decadent crystal chandeliers.
What the hell…
She waited a moment longer, anxiety tripping down her spine as she frantically tried to understand what had just happened. She felt off…as if she'd drank far too much. But even on a bad day she could down two glasses of wine and function just fine.
It was just a moment…nothing more…just a moment…
Seeing Becky's worried gaze on her, she forced a smile and started towards her again just as Limburger sauntered onto the raised stage where the band was wrapping up a number. He stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat. "Good evening, my dearest friends!"
Cassie ignored his speech, taking Becky's hand as she neared and squeezing it. "Hey! I'm so glad you made it! You just saved me from an attempted set up."
Becky's eyes lit up. "Ooh, a set up? With who?"
"Oh no…not a good thing." She looked up at the stage where Limburger was holding court, suppressing a shudder. "Melinda basically tossed my single ass right in his direction."
"Oh god, are you serious? That's…"
"Disgusting? Yes. Introduce me to your friend."
"Oh, right! This is Anthony. Anthony, this is my co-worker, Cassie," Becky said, angling a dazzling smile at the attractive man beside her.
Anthony was exactly what Cassie would have been looking for in a distraction - tall, handsome, and forgettable. She shook his hand and slipped into mundane chit-chat with the two as Limburger droned on about all he'd done for the community, future plans and how nothing he did was possible without the help of his generous donors. She had almost forgotten about the little slip into Mars when suddenly, the sound of an explosion filled her ears and she felt white-hot shrapnel tear into her skin.
She reacted on impulse, slapping a hand over the part of her arm that felt as if it has been scorched. Of course, nothing was any different than it had been. She stood in the middle of an invisible war, hearing everything and seeing nothing, her equilibrium being torn apart.
"Cass…are you okay?"
Becky's voice sounded as if it were coming from far away. Cassie shook her head, blindly shoving her wine glass in the direction of Becky's voice. "Um…no. I think I might be coming down with something. Can you take this while I run to the ladies?"
"Yeah, of course."
With a breathy 'thank you', Cassie stumbled through the crowd, panic closing in around her as the sounds of war intensified. The people around her shimmered in and out of focus…humans once again taking the form of the men fighting a never-ending war on Mars. It took everything she had not to scream as one fell in front of her, eyes staring up at her but seeing nothing.
Bile rose in her throat and she fought it back, pushing through the mass, desperate to get away from the party. Stoker's voice echoed in her head, full of pain and fury. A man with glasses turned to catch her and all she saw was the monster that had experimented on her friends, taking pieces of them. She cried out and jerked away from him, ignoring the look of confusion on his face. At the coat check, she yanked her coat and purse from the attendant without a word of thanks, frantically trying to find her phone. Her hand shook as she pulled it free, quickly dialing the number to the Last Chance. On the third ring, Vinnie's cheerful voice greeted her. "Yo, this is Vinnie."
"Vin..it's Cassie. I need you to come and get me now. Please!"
"Woah, easy there sweetheart. What's going on?"
"I don't-." A violent myriad of memories assailed her and she moaned low in her throat, leaning against the wall and curling into herself. "I don't know. Something's wrong though. All of Stoker's memories…I can't stop them. I don't know what's happening to me."
"Hang tight, Cass. I'll be there as quick as I can."
"Hurry," she whimpered pitifully before the line disconnected.
She rushed to the exit, praying silently that the cold air would shock her system and the memories would stop. They were so vivid, the clarity of each one glaring in an almost unnatural way. For as much as she willed them to stop, they just seemed to get worse with every passing second.
How was this even happening? Did Limburger set something loose? Had there been something in the drinks? She vaguely recalled Stoker once saying something about how much the Plutarkian's enjoyed coming up with new ways to control minds. But would Limburger do something as dangerous as slipping something into every drink at a party to do so?
Outside, the cold did little to nothing to stop the assault on her mind. She tried to take deep, calming breaths, repeating "this isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real," in a desperate attempt to quiet her mind.
Nothing worked.
Tires squealed down the street and Cassie jerked her head up, almost sobbing in relief when she saw Charley's jeep come tearing around the corner. She didn't wait for Vinnie to come to a full stop. Grabbing frantically for the door handle, she jerked it open and lunged inside.
"Jesus Cass, what the hell happened?"
Cassie shook her head, closed her eyes tightly and tried to shut out the memories that were coming one right after another in rapid succession.
"I have no idea. I think...I think it was Limburger?"
Vinnie pulled out onto the street and hit the gas, the wheels spinning against ice and pavement before catching. "Limburger? What was he doing there?"
"Hosting. I was just...oh my god!" She clasped her hands against her head as one particularly gruesome flashback took her for an unwanted ride - soldiers in cages watching as some hideous looking creatures cut into one screaming on a table, blood dripping over steel and pooling on the floor. "I'm going to be sick," she moaned, her stomach rolling, her heart feeling like it was being torn in irreparable shreds.
"Hang in there, Sweetheart. I'll get ya home."
He cruised through the streets as fast as the conditions would allow. Cassie curled into her seat. She felt attacked and abused, scared out of her mind by the way the memories were twisting themselves into macabre versions, by the screams and shouts echoing in her head, by Stoker's pain radiating through her body.
Vinnie's hand gripped hers. "Breathe, Cass," he instructed.
"I don't...understand what's happening. This isn't like it was before," she tried to explain, panic lacing her words. "What's happening to me?"
"Did he give you anything? A drink? Food? Anything?"
"No. I don't know. I had a glass or two of wine that the servers were handing out. I was talking to Becky…we weren't even talking about anything special and Limburger was up on stage giving this speech and then everything just went…so so wrong. It was suddenly like something just undid everything you've done. Oh, no...no no…"
She was staring up at that creepy scientist, his knife glinting under the harsh lighting, his grin terrifying and sadistic.
"What? What's going on?" Vinnie asked, his grip tightening. "Cass?"
"That...that scientist guy...I'm on a table...he's got a knife. I know this one...I hate this one…"
Blazing hot pain shot up her spine and she bit her lip to keep from screaming, tears coursing down her pale cheeks. "Why can I feel what's happening to Stoker?"
"Feel it? What the fuck-." Vinnie looked like he was going to be the sick one now. He stepped on the gas and the city flashed by them, dark and light blurs of nightlife carrying on unaware of the chaos happening inside the vehicle tearing past them.
It wasn't long before they were at the Last Chance and Vinnie was pulling into the garage, slamming the brakes on and throwing the jeep into park. He came around the front, opening her door and pulling her in his arms. "Hang in there, Sweetheart. Almost there."
Once upstairs, Vinnie went to the kitchen, hit the light switch with his elbow and set her down, holding her shoulders to keep her steady. "Did anything else happen while you were there? Did you talk to anyone? How much...how much did you have to drink, Cass?"
Cassie's brows furrowed. One and a half glasses of wine couldn't possibly have been enough to provoke what was happening now. "One…half of another. Nothing I can't handle."
"Yeah...I'm sure normally that wouldn't do a thing to you, but you've got way more than just yourself in your head right now, sweetheart."
A sudden thought hit her, something brought up in a recent staff meeting, and she gripped Vinnie's arm. "That Limburger guy. He bought out half the mall and was hosting a party for his move like he was doing everyone this huge favor."
Vinnie swore. "That jerkoff probably did something to the drinks then. Any chance he has to sway the people of Chicago to his way of thinking, he's going to take...brainwashing included."
Which she knew...because Stoker knew...and everything that belonged to Stoker was one vivid shit-storm whirling in her head right now that she couldn't shut up. The darkness of oblivion yawned open in front of her, Stoker's longing for release from his trauma twisting through her like a writhing snake. "Vinnie...I can't get any of it to stop. Please...make it just...stop," she begged. "I can't keep listening to this."
He stared at her, his gaze miserable and hopeless. "I...I can't, Cass."
"What?"
"I can't go in there. Not with the alcohol running through your system and the possibility that some messed up drug is piggybacking on it."
She thought she couldn't feel any more terrified. "You can't do anything?"
Vinnie shook his head. "I wouldn't be able to touch anything. Not until it's cleared out. Fuck...Cass, I'm so sorry…"
Tightening her grip on his arm, Cassie dragged in a ragged breath, adding self-loathing to the growing cloud of misery swirling inside of her. "I'm sorry too, Vinnie."
She pulled him in, her free hand going around his neck, her mouth on his before he could say another word, make an attempt to stop her and what shred of hesitation he tentatively grasped died a quick and brutal death as his hands gripped her waist, his mouth opening to greedily take what she was offering.
She yanked desperately at his ammunition belt and he reached behind her, jerking the buttons holding her dress together apart. With every second they fell into the moment, her nightmares quieted, stilled and faded into black obscurity. Lust overpowered them. It always had. Thank the good lord it was going to work this time, too.
Their hands worked frantically to remove the clothing between them, as if they both understood on some level that if they slowed down, if they gave themselves even a hint of a second to think about what they were doing, they'd stop and the nightmares would come shrieking back.
Vinnie slid the spaghetti straps of her dress off her shoulders, let it glide down her body and then lifted her out of it, turning to set her on the kitchen counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, refusing to break away from kissing him. The only thing she could feel now was pleasure. No pain, no torment...just the bliss of nothingness fogging her mind as her body took over, giving her exactly what she needed to forget everything.
She unbuttoned his jeans, pushed them over his hips, then grasped his length and shifted to the edge of the counter.
"Cass…" he tried, breathing heavily. "This is insane...you don't want this…"
"No," she agreed. "You don't either. But it's the only thing that works. Look for yourself," she invited in a breathless whisper, pulling his earring between her teeth and soaking up the sound of his low groan. "You can ride the high just as good as I can…"
She took his face between her hands, coaxed him down and he gave in, closing his eyes as his antenna brushed her forehead. The intrusion was nothing more than a whisper in the darkness, silenced as easily as the memories by the strength of her addiction, the depth of her need.
His moves took on a fluid strength - calculated, determined. He was right there with her now. She was his enabler. It would hit her later, the ugliness of what she was doing. But in this moment, they only existed to provide an escape, pure and simple.
Cassie tightened her legs around Vinnie's waist, took every inch of him unapologetically. She arched against him, moved with him, her moans and sighs mingling with his. Every thrust was like injecting a drug straight into her veins, giving her the fix she desperately needed.
Somehow they ended up on the kitchen floor, Cassie straddling Vinnie's waist, giving her the leverage to maintain a connection that would keep him on her level. He didn't fight her when she slowed the pace, easing away from her release. He let her use him, gave her everything she wanted, fought nothing. When he came, it was because she let it happen. And when she came, it was because he took over control, moving her under him, riding her hard, almost as if he were punishing her for what she'd made him be a part of.
She didn't blame him in the least.
As always, the euphoria was short-lived. It took everything she had not to reach for a fix again, laying still beside Vinnie and listening to him try to catch his breath. But her mind was quiet, the memories back in their captive corners.
Small favors, she thought. But at what cost?
