ever happen again.
But it did happen again. And again. And again. More and more often. And as she got older, the spanking turned into whippings with his belt, so that no one would ever question his puffy hands.
There had been one time he smacked her in the face. She’d gotten a black eye and a busted lip, and he’d kept her home from school until it healed, telling the office that she was sick with a flu. That had been the only time there was any outward proof, and the only time her mother had questioned it. Her father had told her mother that Cassandra ran into a doorknob, and that if they didn’t keep her home from school, people would get suspicious just as she did. Her mother had bought it. She always believed everything he said. His word was law in their house.
She probably could have told her mother the truth then. Or any number of times. But what good would that do? Her mother wouldn’t have believed her, and even if she had, the most likely outcome would be that, after investigations and legal stuff, Cassandra would end up right back in the orphanage, without a family.
Things had been so perfect in the beginning. There had been no question then that her parents loved her. But as things got worse and worse with her father, she had to face the truth: that the rumors about Brielle at the orphanage were true. Everyone said she was a witch. That she brought bad luck to people. That she knew things she shouldn’t; Cassandra had witnessed that a few times herself. The only explanation for how quickly things went bad was that Brielle had somehow cursed Cassandra’s father. She had accused him of being abusive, and had somehow made it true.
Facing that fact gave Cassandra another harsh realization. What if, through some form of witchery, Brielle discovered Cassandra’s secret? The one she’d been keeping clenched away her entire life? Brielle could expose Cassandra as the freak she really is, and Cassandra would lose everything—her friends, her home, her family, as well as any hopes of ever finding another family to adopt her again.
Once Cassandra realized this, she’d decided to act pre-emptively. If she could defame Brielle to the point that no one liked her or would ever believe a crazy word she said, Cassandra would never have to fear exposure. And it wasn’t like Brielle didn’t deserve it for what she did.
Brielle was the enemy, and Cassandra made sure that everyone around them knew that. Before long, Brielle was an outcast, and Cassandra’s secret was safe.
But there was always the poor sad sap who would wander by and get sucked into Brielle’s web. Adalind Shaw, but that girl was a real weirdo. They kinda deserved each other. Then Tristan, and now Jareth? Two perfectly good hotties who, despite Cassandra’s best efforts, are under Brielle’s spell. Admittedly, Cassandra doesn’t know much about Jareth, but she knows that Tristan doesn’t deserve whatever Brielle is planning for him. She can’t just leave him in her claws. It’s Cassandra’s civic duty to save him from her. Even if he doesn’t end up with Cassandra, which would be a nice bonus, at least he won’t end up with Brielle.
Very gingerly, she arches her back to roll over in bed and makes a promise to herself. She needs to get back into prevention mode, do everything she can to save those she cares about from Brielle’s bewitchment. And right now, that’s Tristan and her dad.
Cassandra smiles and closes her eyes.
When she’s through, Brielle will once again have no one.
Tristan
The band around Tristan’s chest unwinds when he sees Brielle enter HQ. She’s okay.
She’s safe.
She stops at the bottom of the stairs and her gaze instantly connects with his. His heart jolts like it always does, a sensation he welcomes as much as it doesn’t make sense. Brielle quickly looks away and continues to scan the room, taking in Jareth and Veronica sitting close together.
Her brow creases as she registers they’re all here. “What’s up? It sounded urgent.”
Tristan indicates her usual chair by one of the desks. “We’ve had some news.”
Veronica does the impossible and shifts closer to Jareth, a move even Brielle notices. Her frown scrunches down another notch as she sits.
Tristan stands, shoving his hands in his pockets as he wonders where to start. Everything’s changed in the space of a few hours.
He clears his throat. “Some things have happened. Firstly, McNary’s escaped.”
Brielle’s eyes widen. “He’s