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This is a sequel to Cassandrasmartmovie crack smartphone
FRACTURE
By Rebeckah
Note: Danielle SmileyFace co-authored this story!
Cassandra sat before her vanity brushing her long black hair and humming a tune her mother used to sing to her. She was quite content, enjoying the peace and quite of the Centre at night. This was her favorite hour of the day, between two and three in the morning, when most people still at the Centre were sound asleep and their emotions were muted. She always felt relaxed and happy at these times when she could let down her rigid guard and simply be. However---
Her hand stilled and she cocked her head in a listening pose, although she was listening more with her mind than her ears. She felt something odd----an unnatural silence in her mental landscape. It felt almost as though someone, or something, was deliberately hiding their mental presence----something Cassandra was unaccustomed to. Most people radiated thoughts and emotions like a never-ending explosion of psychic garbage.
Just then she felt the merest whisper of air moving where it shouldn't, and a large male hand clamped over her mouth.
"Not a sound!"
The smooth, deep voice was familiar to her, as was the emotional signature she could suddenly pick up from the intruder. Somehow he had been able to hide his mental presence from her extra senses, at least he had until he touched her. Cassandra's gift was much stronger when someone was in physical contact with her.
How did he do that? How did he hide his presence long enough to get in here without me knowing? He's never had a shield before! What is he doing, anyway? He'd never try this if Dr. Raines hadn't been taken off by the Triumvirate! Cassandra wondered, even as she nodded her head obediently in response to the order.
"Good." The hand eased off of her mouth. "We're going for a little walk." He continued, moving to her closet and rummaging around in it. "If we encounter anybody you will smile, let me do the talking, and agree with anything I say. Do you understand?"
Once again Cassandra nodded and a moment later a wad of silky fabric hit her softly in the face.
"Put that on." She was ordered. "You can hardly be seen wandering around the Centre in a nightgown."
"When you leave the room." Cassandra agreed calmly, although she was trembling inside.
The impressions she'd picked up from the intruder's mind when he touched her were deeply disturbing, but she knew that she had no real hope of resisting him, so her only option was to cooperate. She had to wonder why he was acting in the dead of the night anyway. He was the temporary head of the Centre; he could go anywhere and do anything without fear of reprisal now.
She breathed a silent sigh of relief when the man laughed and moved to the door. He was capable of forcing her to change in front of him or even dressing her himself, but he had opted to indulge her and she was deeply grateful for that indulgence.
"You have two minutes before I come in and help you." He promised mockingly. "Not one second more."
The adrenaline running through her system worked against her, making her hands tremble and her fingers fumble. Still, she was just smoothing the dress back down after having pulled on her nylons when he re-entered her room. He had dropped that strange shield by now, and she had a clear glimpse into his mind, seeing herself in a flattering silk dress of red and gold with her black hair tumbling wildly over her face and shoulders.
She accepted the heels he thrust at her, knowing they would be whichever pair set off the dress the best. He was nothing, Cassandra reflected wryly, if not vain. He'd never choose to be seen with a woman who was looking anything less than her best. She sat down once again in front of her vanity to pull on the shoes.
"This will never do." He said from directly behind her when she straightened up again. His hands swiftly gathered together her disheveled hair. "I can't be seen with you with your hair a mess like this."
Deftly, and with surprising gentleness, he swept her brush through her hair a few times before rolling her hair into a sophisticated French twist at the nape of her neck. Long fingers pulled a few wispy strands to float around her face before he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
"Much better." He proclaimed, eyeing her appearance proudly. "I don't suppose you have any makeup? Oh well, can't have everything, I suppose. You'll do."
He swept Cassandra to her feet and out of her bedroom towards her "front" door---if a door leading to the inside of an office building can be considered the front.
"Where are we going?" Cassandra asked, her voice composed and even, disguising her rising anxiety. She had to wonder if she too was going to disappear on a plane to Africa. She knew that she'd seriously displeased Big Mutumbo when she'd been unable to read Jarod's mind after his capture.
"Don't worry, it's a pleasant surprise." He lied smoothly.
She could feel his smug pleasure in the thought that she would know he was lying before he even spoke the words but she was more preoccupied with the thoughts of the man observing their departure. He was distressed, upset enough to do something dangerous!
Angelo, no! She halted her old friend with a swift thought when he would have plunged through the air vent to rescue her. We need to know what is going on here, and who is behind it. If I do not come back you must tell Dr. Sydney about this.
No!Angelo thought back firmly. Bad man! Hurt Cass!
Angelo, if he hurts you I will feel bad. Please, wait. He might bring me back. She finally thought at him with total honesty.
Angelo wait. He thought clearly to her, sending his distress and hurt as well as the words. Not happy. Fear. Caution? He sent with the added sensation that caution wasn't going to do her any good.
I am sorry, Angelo. But he would hurt you; you know that don't you? I want you safe. Cassandra sent back with perfect sincerity.
By then they were deep within the maze of hallways that comprised most of the Centre.
I will be very careful, I promise. She added earnestly before deliberately closing down the connection between the two of them for the first time since she and Angelo had become friends so many years ago.
She felt a little better, though, knowing that Angelo knew what had happened. If she didn't return, (and Cassandra was just as convinced as Angelo was that her escort had no intention of returning her to her room), at least someone would know what happened to her.
The elevator doors opened in the first sublevel of the Centre---the garage. She was led to the passenger side of a car and the door was shut firmly as soon as she'd entered the shiny black Ferrari that was her captor's pride and joy. Cassandra buckled her seatbelt, something she hadn't done in so long she'd almost forgotten what it was, and they pulled smoothly out of the garage.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Lyle." The guard at the gate stammered nervously. "But Miss Cassandra isn't cleared to leave Centre grounds."
"I decide who is or is not authorized to leave Centre grounds, you incompetent buffoon!" Lyle snapped angrily. "Didn't you read the memo sent around a few weeks ago? " He accelerated through the gate over the poor guards sputtered excuses.
Cassandra sat silently during the long drive. Lyle ignored her just as completely, caught up in his own deep thoughts. He wasn't blocking his mind from her anymore, but Cassandra resolutely kept her mental shields firm and ignored any stray thoughts that came her way. She was too busy worrying about Lyle's strange behavior to be sidetracked by the vague and unpleasant thoughts the came her way from Lyle's direction.
By Rebeckah
Note: Danielle SmileyFace co-authored this story!
Cassandra sat before her vanity brushing her long black hair and humming a tune her mother used to sing to her. She was quite content, enjoying the peace and quite of the Centre at night. This was her favorite hour of the day, between two and three in the morning, when most people still at the Centre were sound asleep and their emotions were muted. She always felt relaxed and happy at these times when she could let down her rigid guard and simply be. However---
Her hand stilled and she cocked her head in a listening pose, although she was listening more with her mind than her ears. She felt something odd----an unnatural silence in her mental landscape. It felt almost as though someone, or something, was deliberately hiding their mental presence----something Cassandra was unaccustomed to. Most people radiated thoughts and emotions like a never-ending explosion of psychic garbage.
Just then she felt the merest whisper of air moving where it shouldn't, and a large male hand clamped over her mouth.
"Not a sound!"
The smooth, deep voice was familiar to her, as was the emotional signature she could suddenly pick up from the intruder. Somehow he had been able to hide his mental presence from her extra senses, at least he had until he touched her. Cassandra's gift was much stronger when someone was in physical contact with her.
How did he do that? How did he hide his presence long enough to get in here without me knowing? He's never had a shield before! What is he doing, anyway? He'd never try this if Dr. Raines hadn't been taken off by the Triumvirate! Cassandra wondered, even as she nodded her head obediently in response to the order.
"Good." The hand eased off of her mouth. "We're going for a little walk." He continued, moving to her closet and rummaging around in it. "If we encounter anybody you will smile, let me do the talking, and agree with anything I say. Do you understand?"
Once again Cassandra nodded and a moment later a wad of silky fabric hit her softly in the face.
"Put that on." She was ordered. "You can hardly be seen wandering around the Centre in a nightgown."
"When you leave the room." Cassandra agreed calmly, although she was trembling inside.
The impressions she'd picked up from the intruder's mind when he touched her were deeply disturbing, but she knew that she had no real hope of resisting him, so her only option was to cooperate. She had to wonder why he was acting in the dead of the night anyway. He was the temporary head of the Centre; he could go anywhere and do anything without fear of reprisal now.
She breathed a silent sigh of relief when the man laughed and moved to the door. He was capable of forcing her to change in front of him or even dressing her himself, but he had opted to indulge her and she was deeply grateful for that indulgence.
"You have two minutes before I come in and help you." He promised mockingly. "Not one second more."
The adrenaline running through her system worked against her, making her hands tremble and her fingers fumble. Still, she was just smoothing the dress back down after having pulled on her nylons when he re-entered her room. He had dropped that strange shield by now, and she had a clear glimpse into his mind, seeing herself in a flattering silk dress of red and gold with her black hair tumbling wildly over her face and shoulders.
She accepted the heels he thrust at her, knowing they would be whichever pair set off the dress the best. He was nothing, Cassandra reflected wryly, if not vain. He'd never choose to be seen with a woman who was looking anything less than her best. She sat down once again in front of her vanity to pull on the shoes.
"This will never do." He said from directly behind her when she straightened up again. His hands swiftly gathered together her disheveled hair. "I can't be seen with you with your hair a mess like this."
Deftly, and with surprising gentleness, he swept her brush through her hair a few times before rolling her hair into a sophisticated French twist at the nape of her neck. Long fingers pulled a few wispy strands to float around her face before he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
"Much better." He proclaimed, eyeing her appearance proudly. "I don't suppose you have any makeup? Oh well, can't have everything, I suppose. You'll do."
He swept Cassandra to her feet and out of her bedroom towards her "front" door---if a door leading to the inside of an office building can be considered the front.
"Where are we going?" Cassandra asked, her voice composed and even, disguising her rising anxiety. She had to wonder if she too was going to disappear on a plane to Africa. She knew that she'd seriously displeased Big Mutumbo when she'd been unable to read Jarod's mind after his capture.
"Don't worry, it's a pleasant surprise." He lied smoothly.
She could feel his smug pleasure in the thought that she would know he was lying before he even spoke the words but she was more preoccupied with the thoughts of the man observing their departure. He was distressed, upset enough to do something dangerous!
Angelo, no! She halted her old friend with a swift thought when he would have plunged through the air vent to rescue her. We need to know what is going on here, and who is behind it. If I do not come back you must tell Dr. Sydney about this.
No!Angelo thought back firmly. Bad man! Hurt Cass!
Angelo, if he hurts you I will feel bad. Please, wait. He might bring me back. She finally thought at him with total honesty.
Angelo wait. He thought clearly to her, sending his distress and hurt as well as the words. Not happy. Fear. Caution? He sent with the added sensation that caution wasn't going to do her any good.
I am sorry, Angelo. But he would hurt you; you know that don't you? I want you safe. Cassandra sent back with perfect sincerity.
By then they were deep within the maze of hallways that comprised most of the Centre.
I will be very careful, I promise. She added earnestly before deliberately closing down the connection between the two of them for the first time since she and Angelo had become friends so many years ago.
She felt a little better, though, knowing that Angelo knew what had happened. If she didn't return, (and Cassandra was just as convinced as Angelo was that her escort had no intention of returning her to her room), at least someone would know what happened to her.
The elevator doors opened in the first sublevel of the Centre---the garage. She was led to the passenger side of a car and the door was shut firmly as soon as she'd entered the shiny black Ferrari that was her captor's pride and joy. Cassandra buckled her seatbelt, something she hadn't done in so long she'd almost forgotten what it was, and they pulled smoothly out of the garage.
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Lyle." The guard at the gate stammered nervously. "But Miss Cassandra isn't cleared to leave Centre grounds."
"I decide who is or is not authorized to leave Centre grounds, you incompetent buffoon!" Lyle snapped angrily. "Didn't you read the memo sent around a few weeks ago? " He accelerated through the gate over the poor guards sputtered excuses.
Cassandra sat silently during the long drive. Lyle ignored her just as completely, caught up in his own deep thoughts. He wasn't blocking his mind from her anymore, but Cassandra resolutely kept her mental shields firm and ignored any stray thoughts that came her way. She was too busy worrying about Lyle's strange behavior to be sidetracked by the vague and unpleasant thoughts the came her way from Lyle's direction.
