Cassandra Cain Novels & Stories

"She is operating like a ghost. She moves through secure channels without leaving a single digital trace. She commandeered high-level surveillance, scrubbed state toll records, and orchestrated a clean abduction in broad daylight. That doesn't take money, Mariano. That takes long-term connections. That takes deep, established institutional power." Mariano stood completely still. A cold, unsettling sensation began to take root in his chest, suppressing the immediate rage that had been driving him. "So what are you saying?" Mariano asked quietly. "Where would she get that kind of power? Her husband knew nothing about it. Her own children knew nothing about it." "That's why I started digging,"

( WARNING: MATURE CONTENT! NOT SUITABLE FOR 17UNDER) I felt like I'm a slave under his caresses, his hot breath on my neck also didn't help. It brought some heat to my system. I'm not that dumb to not understand what's happening but maybe I'm so stupid because my body love what he's doing. He has a girlfriend, Cassandra. I kept saying it in my mind just so I could have the strength to stop everything that’s happening in my body but it was really treacherous.

If her presences could smoothly hover that minuscule of liberation my way when I normally would never be permitted to lock and unlock the door to my room at my own will, then my dad most certainly has gone bonkers to think I won't do everything within my leverage to keep my source of maximum liberation alive. I headed for the cellar in a dash with my candle in hand since it was a dark path but in no time truly, had I stepped foot on a marshy bed of grasses. Quickly I dipped the ring of my keys into my pocket and dismissed the candlestick in the grass, barely sure if I'd put out the fire blazing on top at all but I left that for the wind to worry about. I sprinted till I was standing right be

In three weeks she hadn’t forgotten a single complaint she had against him. Her attention was drawn from the man to the young woman at her side. Cassandra Sinclair, daughter of a tribunal member, Dash Sinclair. At eighteen, Cassandra was slender, with long black hair and light, almost pale blue eyes. She had the genetic perfection of features that all Breeds had, though she was what they called a hybrid, a child born of Breed sperm that had fertilized a human egg that hadn’t been changed by the genetics needed to create the Breeds. Her mother had then been artificially inseminated and carried Cassandra to term.

She rose and met me halfway, then motioned for me to follow her to a corner of the room. "Acantha Bree? What are you doing here?" I asked. It was rare when you ran into another vamp while out on assignment ... well ... a good one, anyway. "Shush ..." She held a finger to her lips, looking around. "I haven't gone by Acantha in years. They call me Annie here. Annie Brenner. It sounds more modern. What are you doing here?"

Dan advises, no bullshit in his tone. Katherine: Hey Josh, it's Katherine from last night. I set my phone down, and, takin a large gulp of my coffee, anxiously wait for a ring. “Okay, what about the other guy?” She continues grilling. Adam’s dark eyes flash through my mind making my body feel warm. I'm not even sure how to describe him.

The woman sat across from me, her face lined with age and caution, her eyes sharp. “You’re brave to meet me here,” she murmured, glancing around before leaning forward. “Brave...or foolish.” “Maybe both,” I admitted. “I just… I need to know everything. Cassandra’s last days. Who she trusted. Who she feared.” The woman’s hands shook as she pulled a small notebook from her bag. “She was afraid, you know. Afraid of shadows she couldn’t name. She talked of money moving in strange ways, properties being sold under shell companies. She suspected people she trusted most. She thought someone was watching her.”

I left without another word, but the back of my neck prickled all the way down the hall. I’d barely sat back at my desk when Cassandra appeared. She didn’t walk into a room; she entered like she owned it. Every click of her heels was a statement. Her dress was cream silk, hugging her in all the ways that made people look twice. Her hair caught the light as if it had been positioned for a photo shoot. She stopped at my cubicle, leaning casually against the partition. “Damien was telling me about this new charity he’s funding,” she said, voice dripping with a smooth sweetness that almost masked the blade beneath. “So inspiring, don’t you think? Not everyone understands that kind of passion.”

CASSANDRA The whisper swells, each day a little more, like a dark tide rising in the heart of the damp walls that never recedes, crawling through the narrow corridors, hissing between the twisted bars, slipping into the breathless whispers of the cafeteria, until it saturates the very air, so that we no longer speak only of the princess who has fallen from her pedestal, but of me, Cassandra, the one who does not bend, the one already called the bite, the one who laughs when the blood spurts and pain becomes spectacle. And around me, without me calling for it, without me demanding it, a pack begins to weave, fiber by fiber, an unstable but growing circle, composed of women who approach with h

The silence between us was the kind that could break bone. I inhaled deeply and stepped closer. At this point I knew I can’t take Cassain down alone, not after tonight, things will get dirty. I needed his help, and that means I need to tell him what happened. “Last year something happened,” I began, lowering my voice, “Cassain met a girl named Zara. He took everything from her, her money, her restaurant… and when she got pregnant, he shot her.” Mr. Everhart’s brows knit together, but his expression didn’t waver.