Chasing Starlight- Cassandra's Story Read online

  Samantha grinned. “I think he’s probably going to come over and we’ll watch some Netflix. Do you mind him sleeping over?”

  “Not at all,” I promised. “Have fun.”

  I grabbed my purse and skipped out to where the Uber was waiting.

  The driver of a shiny, black sedan rolled down his window to smile at me. “Hey, are you Cassandra?”

  “I am!”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Alex, your driver.”

  “Excellent. Thanks for meeting me out here.”

  I opened the front passenger seat and buckled in before we drove toward the bar. Alex was a pleasant, chatty guy who prattled on for the entire drive. I didn’t mind the conversation; I was too nervous about seeing Michael to pay much attention to anything else. I stared out the window while Alex drove, admiring the palms trees and glittering city light nestled on the golden coast. Eventually, he pulled into the parking lot of The Loft and put the car in park. “It was nice to meet you, Cassandra. Have a great night.”

  I nodded goodbye and grabbed my purse before stepping onto the sidewalk. As Alex drove away, Michael’s silhouette became visible in the window and my heart skipped a beat.

  He’d grown about half a foot since high school and lost all the baby fat from around his cheeks. Additionally, his chest and arms had filled out nicely, giving him a chiseled jaw and broad shoulders.

  He was gorgeous.

  No, stop that, I commanded. It would be too weird.

  I opened the door to go inside and he stood with a brilliant, infectious grin. I couldn’t help but smile back. He walked to the front of the bar and kissed my cheek. My skin warmed where his lips grazed my skin, and I felt a flutter in my belly.

  Damn it, why did he have to smell so good?

  “Cassie, I’m glad you made it. I hope you don’t mind, but I got a booth along the wall so we could talk in private.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

  Michael led me to a neatly upholstered booth with a small table in the center. True to his assessment, it was more private than the tables and chairs and also quieter. The rest of the bar was loud, noisy, and contained people grinding against each other. It was my worst nightmare. I preferred a more intimate encounter where we could actually talk. He knew me well, and I appreciated that.

  I slid onto the bench across from him and Michael asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

  “Sure, I’ll have some white wine. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just...dry.”

  Michael nodded. “Dry, got it. How about a Chardonnay?”

  “Sounds great.”

  Smiling, he stepped over to the bar and came back with two drinks. “I got a Moscato for myself, and a Chardonnay for the lady.”

  I took the glass and set it on the table in front of me. “Thanks.”

  He gazed back with kind eyes. “So, what are you up to nowadays? You mentioned something about teaching?”

  “Yeah, I start next week at Canopy Oaks.”

  Michael grinned. “That’s right, you mentioned that at lunch. I think you’ll do great.”

  My heart fluttered again, like it was old times. He had beautiful brown eyes with a hint of green that always turned my knees to jelly. When he looked at me, I felt noticed, really seen, by someone who cared about me personally.

  What is happening? I wondered. It was not supposed to go this well.

  He was so nice and easy to talk to that I found myself falling back into old habits. Michael has always been such a huge part of my life, in some ways it felt like we were just picking up where we left off. We’d been down this road before and Halle’s warning repeated in my head, but something had changed—he’d never looked at me with this level of intensity. We weren’t children anymore. Even though his eyes were still the same, they looked hungry.

  My cheeks burned the longer we stared at one another, so I broke eye contact and glanced at my drink. “Thank you.”

  “What about good ‘ol Halle? Where is she these days?”

  “She’s living up in Boston, getting her master’s degree in communication. Right now she’s doing an internship with a local radio station.”

  Michael nodded with interest. “Oh, good for her.”

  After taking a sip of my drink I asked, “What about you? Where are you spending your time lately?”

  He laughed. “At the zoo most days. Some nights, too. Who knew being a vet meant having late hours?”

  I snorted at the pure irony. “I wouldn’t have expected that either. However, the work does suit you perfectly. You’ve always had a way with animals.”

  “Yeah, well having a psychic bond with them is a huge advantage. I love it though; I can’t imagine doing anything else. Have you ever felt in your gut that there was something on this earth you were meant to do? That’s how I feel about taking care of animals.”

  My lips curved into a smile, thinking back to the first time he shared his gift with me. It wasn’t big and flashy like some of the other fae; Michael’s skill was more carefully tuned. He communicated with animals telepathically, so discreetly no outsider would have recognized unless they knew what he was doing—someone like me.

  “I know what you mean,” I told him. “I love kids. I’ve always wanted to work with them. Once I got to college, it just felt natural.”

  “That makes me really happy for you. I’m glad you found your calling.”

  When I glanced down, a tendril of blonde hair fell around my face. Michael reached up to tuck it gently behind my ear and, when his fingers touched me, the skin beneath tingled. Looking up at him, I swallowed hard and blushed. “Thanks for taking me out tonight. I needed the push to get me out of the apartment.”

  He smiled, allowing his hand to linger on my cheek a moment before pulling away. “Anytime.”

  Out of nowhere, the noise from the room crept into my awareness, flooding my senses with repetitive drumming. The crowd appeared to have doubled in size in the short time we’d been talking, and people were pressing near us. My social anxiety flared again, and I hoped the red blotches of embarrassment were not as visible as I worried.

  Michael picked up on my distress and did his best to calm me. He reached across the table and put his hand on mine reassuringly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You didn’t. It’s just…the noise.”

  He looked me over slowly. “You’re still dealing with anxiety, huh?”

  Ducking my head, I gave a single nod.

  Michael squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me, Cassie. I know you. If you want to get out of here, we can go. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I should have known better than to bring you to a bar like this anyway.”

  I looked at my hand in his and felt my anxiety calm, like a weight lifted off my shoulders. My jitters became less frequent and I breathed easier with Michael gazing back at me with his signature crooked smile. He was warm and solid, the very picture of patience and understanding. I knew he meant every word he said.

  “Yeah, you do know me pretty well,” I agreed. “But I’ll be okay. I just freaking hate it. The panic comes on so fast and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself—I understand. Let’s talk about something else and get your mind off it.”

  I exhaled a sigh of relief. “Okay, but I could use another drink.”

  He waved the bartender over and ordered another me another Chardonnay. Soon we were chatting happily again, and the noise of the crowd faded into the background. All memory of my fear vanished.

  The hour was growing late by the time I finished my second drink, so I decided to call it a night. While Michael paid the bill, I ordered myself another Uber.

  “I had fun tonight; I’d love to see you again,” Michael told me. “Maybe I could take you out again next weekend?”

  I grinned. “That sounds wonderful, but I promised my parents I’d come over for a family dinner.”

&
nbsp; Michael nodded. “Of course, you gotta spend time with family. Give me a call sometime though, okay? I want to hang out with you some more.”

  The tone in his voice gave me pause and I glanced at him uncertainly. “Okay.”

  “I missed this. I forgot how easy you are to talk to. It’s not every day I can be myself and let my guard down, ya know?”

  His comment caused me to smile wider. “I do. I missed you, too.”

  Michael’s lips curved up at the corners and I had the sudden urge to kiss him. Based on the hungry look in his eyes, I sensed he was thinking the same thing. The moment passed as swiftly as it came, and I cleared my throat uncomfortably.

  Michael ducked his head and sighed. “I should probably walk you out to meet your Uber.”

  He slid out of the booth and offered me his hand. I accepted the gesture with a timid smile, hoping to bring back the lightness that had all but disappeared. I stared at his full lips, and let him help me to me feet.

  We walked to the parking lot, hand in hand, where the Uber waited for me. I lingered on the sidewalk, unwilling to make eye contact with Michael but, at the same time, unable to pull myself away.

  Michael hugged me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His arms were warm and strong, and I wanted to melt into him. “It’s good to see you, Cass. I hope you call me soon.”

  I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of his cologne and aftershave. As we released, I smiled up at him. “Don’t worry, I will.”

  He waved goodbye as I climbed into the car and shut the door.

  My ride brought me to my apartment a mere fifteen minutes later and I thanked the driver for his time. I climbed out of the backseat and fumbled in my purse to find my keys while walking to my door. I found them in a side compartment and unlocked the front door, letting myself inside.

  Samantha’s door was shut, and I could hear elated moaning coming from the other side. Her evening with Rob must have gone better than expected.

  Well, she won’t be coming out anytime soon. I chuckled.

  I made it back to my room and set my bag down with a tired sigh. My heart still raced from seeing Michael. I couldn’t stop it, not with the way he looked at me and the warm hugs that made me want to melt even farther into his embrace. I groaned at the memory and plopped on my bed, unwilling to deal with this problem any longer. Tomorrow was soon enough to berate myself for having a crush on him again.

  Damn Halle for being right.

  Moonlight shone through my bedroom window and I felt the knowing pull toward the flute hidden in the corner. I’d sensed it a thousand times before and knew exactly what it meant. I had work to do.

  I locked my bedroom door and retrieved the instrument. Even though Samantha and her boyfriend were otherwise occupied, I couldn’t risk being interrupted. As I reached for my flute, magic humming reverberated through my ears, an odd, hypnotic melody that called to me, and me alone.

  The silver instrument fit perfectly in my hand. It had been a long time since I took the time to admire its design. The metal, and the carvings along the side, were of artisan quality craftsmanship. It was the first gift my father had ever given me. My biological father, Ellyllon—the King of all Fae and Lord of Night. He gifted the flute to me on my twelfth birthday without any explanation. Just a child, I was thrilled by the gift from my absent father and didn’t think twice about its ramifications. Ancient stories spoke about foolish mortals being tricked by fairies—those were the original fairy tales—it was how they got their name. Fae were always known for their sleight of hand and the games they play.

  I just didn’t think my own father would use those skills on me.

  Very quickly I learned that fae cannot help themselves in that regard—it was their nature. Once I took the flute, I unknowingly accepted responsibility for its power. It was not a mantle that could be passed on. I was angry at first for being tricked into the role of Dream Weaver, but then I came to understand how necessary it was.

  Ellyllon told me the flute would make its skill known to me in time. He was right. At the time, I had no idea what he meant; I barely even knew him. I wouldn’t have believed him if he told me the truth when he first gave me the instrument. I didn’t understand what being fae meant; it was something I needed to grow into and experience for myself.

  That was the first time I met Luna—the mythical Luna moth that guided me to my nightly dreamer. The first tune I played summoned her shimmering into existence from a cloud of sparkles.

  I brought the mouthpiece to my lips and breathed cool air through the echo chamber. Before long, my room filled with the sweet melody I always heard in a constant loop in my head, a lullaby begging for release.

  As the song grew louder, a pair of shimmering butterfly wings sprouted from my back. They brought with them a glowing Luna moth that flew across the ground in front of me.

  Go, little friend. Show me.

  Our psychic bond sent the moth flying out the bedroom window to the street beyond. I followed its sparkling trail, my wings flapping as I soared through the air. My lips never left the flute; if I stopped playing, I would break the spell.

  I was the keeper of dreams—a Dream Weaver.

  Every night there was one dreamer, one soul, that needed me more than all the others. One that could give me the magic dust our realm required to stay hidden. The dreamer’s essence was concentrated from illusionary magic, used to create the veil between fairy and human worlds. I’d been collecting from dreamers since I was twelve years old. Luna took me to a dreamer, compelled by whatever magic summoned her, and I entered the dream to complete my mission.

  Tonight, she led me across the city to a small college dorm. The power of the flute allowed me to pass through walls, so I glided through the red-brick exterior and entered the sleeping space. The moth settled on the forehead of the young man sleeping in the bottom bunk. His head rested against a pillow and drool dribbled down his cheek, but his brow was clearly troubled. Since Luna was never wrong, I knew this must be the dreamer I was looking for.

  I removed the flute from my lips and lowered it slowly to my side. The moth disappeared with a spray of glitter, and I was alone with the task at hand. My wings ceased their beating as I touched down on the floor and rested gently upon my back, still emitting a pale, blue light. I placed my hand on the young man’s forehead and willed myself into his subconscious.

  What dreams would this life bring me?

  Experience taught me that, when we slept in the Mortal Realm, our minds awoke in another. It was a secret realm that everyone encountered at one point or another, but no one talked about, the Realm of Dreams. In this world, there were no rules, and things were not always what they seemed.

  I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the center of a living room. As soon as my feet hit the ground, a clock started ticking in the background. The cool breath of a Shadow Demon prickled the hairs on the back of my neck, and I sensed that he was following me—the great predator of the dreamscape. Whatever task needed accomplished, I had to complete before it found me. The creature devoured psychic energy, and we were in a constant battle to win the dreamer’s glamour before it faded.

  The young man disappeared, replaced with a younger version of himself. He wore a pair of flannel pajamas with airplanes on them and his hair flopped across his forehead. The boy stared at me, confused, and tucked his teddy bear underneath his arm. After a moment, he crossed his arms and scowled. “Who are you?”

  I smiled gently, my wings beating softly. “I would like to be your friend. Who do you want me to be?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Grownups are stupid anyway.”

  “Well, maybe I can help. Why don’t you start by telling me what I’m doing here? I only come to people summon who me; you must be very upset about something.”

  The boy’s suspicious brown eyes narrowed. “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because I need you to trust me.”

  His lips trembled. “I don’t think my mommy lov
es me anymore.”

  I stood with concern and looked at him sternly. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because if my mommy loved me, she wouldn’t have had another baby. Now she spends all her time with her instead of me.”

  I nodded with understanding. “I see. That can be hard sometimes. Getting a new sibling is a big adjustment, but that doesn’t mean your mommy doesn’t love you anymore.”

  “But she doesn’t talk to me anymore, everything is about baby Ginnie. When I grow up, she’s going to kick me out and never speak to me again. She just wanted a girl.”

  “I see, so you think your mom and dad won’t take care of you when you're grown up.”

  The child sniffed. “Why would they? They’re too busy taking care of Ginnie.”

  “Maybe you should talk to them. I’m sure that would never happen.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because mothers never stop loving their children, even when they grow up. Sometimes they love them so much, they want to give them a special friend to play with—one they can love and spend their entire life with. That’s what a sister is, a friend you get to keep. Maybe your parents get busy sometimes, but that doesn’t mean they love you any less.”

  He wrinkled his nose adorably. “All my sister does is poop and cry all the time.”

  I chuckled. “Give her time. She has to grow up first, learn how to walk and talk. I have a sister too, and I bet yours loves you more than you could ever know.”

  As I spoke, the boy began to sparkle. The Dust of Dreams settled on him as he accepted my words as truth. As his soul found peace, the sparkling powder fell on us like rain.

  “You think Ginnie loves me?”

  “I know she does.”

  He looked up at the sparkling powder and said, “What’s this?”

  “It’s a very special power. That's what I’m here to collect,” I told him honestly. “Will you help me gather it?”

  The child nodded enthusiastically, and I opened the pouch along my waist to scoop up the magic powder. Its magic was pulled to me like gravity as it funneled into the bag. He giggled with delight and, as we finished filling the pouch, the chill of the Shadow Demon’s presence loomed over us again.