Star Woman in Love

by Piera Sarasini

  The official excuse for the girls’ visit to Paris was that Cassandra wanted to look at some early Merovingian manuscripts in the Bibliothèque Nationale. She was in her third year as a Medieval History undergraduate and had managed to get a travel bursary for this purpose. She and Letizia had been through a number of adventures together, and they were adamant that this was going to be their latest one. They wanted to explore new grounds. April was a good month to do just that. So they boarded a train in Venice one evening and found themselves in Paris on the following day. They were twenty-two then. They took a twin room in a hostel in Saint Michel. Breakfast was included. The expanse of the city stretched out ahead for them to explore. Everything was possible.

  The first few days were spent admiring the artistic treasures of the Louvre and the Jeu de Paume, and the quirky beauty of the Pompidou Centre. Cassandra wanted to leave the manuscripts until later in their two-week stay. On the third morning the two friends decided to have an early breakfast and hit the town without any further ado.

  “Cassie, wake up! It’s sunny outside! Let’s get moving now.”

  “Letizia... what time is it?”

  “7 on the dot. I woke up over an hour ago... can’t you hear that?”

  “What? I’m too groggy... ah, yeah... someone’s singing... underneath our window... down in the alleyway... beautiful voice...”

  “Beautiful my arse! It woke me up when I really needed a rest. We have a full day ahead of us and I wanted to feel recharged this morning... not serenaded!”

  The sun was shining through the curtains. Cassandra got out of bed, put on a sweater and went to open the window.

  “Bonjour! Hey there! Good morning to you and thanks for the music!”

  A young man in a cowboy hat and a long suede coat was leaning on the brick wall of the back street, strumming his guitar and humming a bluesy tune. He sounded American, at least when he sang. It was hard to make out much of what he was singing though, as his words were mumbled. The song was about getting a girl, taking her away from Boulevard du Montparnasse and to the man who loved her. A strange blues with a Parisian twist, probably his own composition. He stopped for a short second to greet Cassandra with the flash of a perfect smile. There was something familiar about him, she thought, though she was sure they had never met.

  “Hello...,” he said looking up absent-mindedly. His blond hair fell on his shoulders in sun-kissed waves.

  “Definitely Californian, definitely a surfer,” Cassandra told Letizia as her eyes absorbed the vision of this suntanned troubadour who looked more like an athlete than a travelling musician. “I have found what I’d come looking for in Paris!”

  His chiselled face was unique: he had blue eyes and slightly Asian features. He continued to play his music, keeping his eyes on the girl who was leaning out of the window in a vest and shorts. She was even more attractive than he’d guessed at first glance. He had seen her the day before in the breakfast room. Stunning. He had felt a drive, almost a compulsion, to get to know her. Conor, that was his name, was always on the lookout for the chance of a romantic liaison. She fit the part: exotic, innocent and young as she was. How old could she be? Eighteen perhaps? He was a man of experience at twenty-three, and well travelled. Was she Spanish? A tourist in the city of love. He had tricks up his sleeves and he wanted to show her. His fingers could touch a young woman in the most exquisite way. He could feel her trembling under his hands already. She had to fall for him: she had to be enthralled by his charms.

  “Gonna get your girl, gonna take her down...,” he was singing.

  “Are you staying in this hostel?,” Cassandra asked him. He nodded in reply.

  “Well, see you downstairs at breakfast then!”

  He smiled and continued with his song. Letizia appeared at the window and slammed it closed. She raised her middle finger to him as she pulled the curtains. Conor remained as if transfixed in the alleyway, playing his guitar for a few more minutes. Then he woke up from his trance and couldn’t quite understand what he was doing in the backstreet so early in the morning. He felt very sleepy and tired all of a sudden. All he could do was go back to the dorm and hope for a bit of sleep despite the fact that everybody else would be waking up.

  “What did I smoke last night? What did I drink? Where did I go,” he wondered.

  A sensation of panic and fear started spreading from his head to his heart, finally reaching his guts. Or was it hunger? Perhaps he should go and get a bite. Breakfast would be served in half an hour in the hostel. Food or no food, the fact remained that he had no recollection of what he’d done the night before and how he ended up playing underneath a window at dawn. Whose window was it?

  “Mad trip, man! I’m running on empty here... gotta ground myself again, gonna get some sleep, man!”

  The two girls emerged from the luxury of their twin room into the hostel’s cafeteria where many of the guests were already busy with breakfast. Cassandra’s hair was in a ponytail. She wore a miniskirt and a sweatshirt that she had selected carefully in the hope of getting the attention of the weird but gorgeous serenading dude. Heads turned as she walked in. She took a look around the room: he wasn’t there. Her heart sank. She put some food and a coffee on her tray and went to sit with her friend at the end of one of the long tables, wanting to avoid having to chat with other guests.

  “Where is he?”

  She was sure she would find him there waiting for her. She always got what she wanted after all, especially with men.

  “Cassie, get a grip, he’s probably fast asleep now. He was completely out of his face, didn’t you notice? He wasn’t singing, he was mumbling...”

  Letizia was right. Conor hit his bunk bed and fell fast asleep, totally oblivious to any noise around him. He started to dream. He could hear a soothing voice in his sleep, hammering the same words in his head: “Get that girl and bring her to me...” Every cell in his body was acquiescing to that command. He was a man with a mission and failure was not an option. Back in the cafeteria, meanwhile, he was the topic of conversation between the two girls. Cassandra had definitely fallen for his charms.

  “But he nodded when I told him I would meet him here... he had the most beautiful face I had ever seen...”

  “They all have the most beautiful faces you’ve ever seen, Cassie! And how could you possibly believe him? A total stranger, drunk or something, and that one was definitely from another planet, I tell you. If he’s not sleeping right now, he’s probably walking around the streets of Paris with his guitar, busking to earn some money...”

  “Not at 7:30 in the morning! Not when he smiled at me the way he did...”

  “You didn’t come to Paris to fall for an American bum, as pretty as he may be, who is likely high on drugs and penniless. You know the reasons why we’re here...”

  “Sure, my research... the magical powers of the Merovingians, their divine descent... how I can develop my own powers by following their teachings... but wasn’t he just the cutest man who has ever treaded the Parisian pavements? I want to know him, I have to know him... something is pulling me towards him... Maybe not today, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled and my ears open until I meet him again. I have a feeling he has an important message for me...”

  Paris looked enchanted that afternoon. The Seine was calm and majestic, and the Eifel Tower sparkled in the sunshine. The girls went to the Beaubourg to watch the street entertainers. Summer was fast approaching and the weather was perfect for outdoor activities. With an ice cream cone in their hands, Cassandra and Letizia stood in the crowd, watching jugglers and contortionists earn their trade outside the Pompidou Centre. Cassandra’s presence brought a sense of wellbeing to the people standing around her, though they didn’t know she was the reason for their sudden bout of elation. Sunshine and joy were the essence of her youthful being. In this set of circumstances she would normally thrive and the most incredible adventures could unfold. Provided she didn’t get too enmeshed in her human side that always tended to p
lay havoc with her plans.

  Letizia was aware of the oscillations between her friend’s two sides, and was always on the lookout for signs of approaching drama. That was part and parcel of her relationship with the magical girl. She knew of Cassandra’s powers from their early years in Italy. The first miracle she saw her perform was when she witnessed her resuscitate her dead hamster. Cassandra had since tried to teach Lettie how to copy her skills, but to no avail. She nevertheless insisted that such powers were available to one and all, if only one really wanted to achieve the desired result.

  “Minds shouldn’t falter in the pursuit of one’s wishes,” she used to say. “You must embrace your heart’s whims with all of your might.”

  Letizia didn’t know whether her friend was mad or a genius. She was sure that she wasn’t completely human. However, her non-humanity – whatever that may be – wasn’t her concern. She was far more worried by her friend’s over-blown sentimentality and tendency to fall for the wrong guy. Paris was a dangerous place for both of them. Letizia sensed it and realised that her friend was in denial about it.

  We knew that Cassandra’s human side had taken over, and her hormones had driven her to the place wrongly known as the city of love. It was a city of fun, that was a given, but only that. In that very place, love was vulnerable to attacks from the darkness, and mixed messages could be received. Letizia wanted to protect Cassandra without letting her know; thus we could operate through her. Despite Cassandra’s self-centred take on life, Letizia was generous and loyal to her. She didn’t mind: it would all pay off one day.

  * * * *

  The crowd of spectators was intent on observing the buskers and the street performers. A group of tiny, one-foot tall, almost invisible people gathered around Cassandra and Letizia as they were watching a show. These creatures served their Lord’s orders to a T. They had been sent to steal Cassandra’s wallet, and to test for still-vulnerable areas in her life. As it stood, her mind didn’t falter. Her body was becoming stronger and stronger. Her Core Signature could at times tune into the Sound of Creation in pitch-perfect fashion, so her invulnerability was on the rise. Her physical belongings and physical environs were all that was left for the Darkness to attack. Everything else, it seemed, was impenetrable to an assault from Shadowland and its creatures.

  The little people were dark fairies at the service of a very illustrious master: the Prince of Darkness himself, who operated in disguise 1990’s Paris under the name of Robert ‘Bob’ Harker, hypnotherapist supremo. These fairies were only visible to children who had not yet lost the ability to see into the ethereal dimension. These creatures were not really evil. Good and bad are only relevant in the three-dimensional world of duality. As fourth-dimensional beings, they only understood a drive towards action of a type or another. As they belonged to the Dark Side, their inclination was towards the dictates of the ego and their direction was towards a re-enactment of the past.

  The Pompidou Centre towered over the crowd, and the crowd towered over the little people. The latter were not worried that a couple of kids had spotted them among the standing spectators. Their only concern was how to approach Cassandra without her noticing. This would be tricky: her second sight was already well developed and she had often caught glimpses of the fourth dimension. If she did see, her abilities would allow her to break anything created by the Darkness. They couldn’t risk being caught by her eyes.

  They had to aim at her Achilles’ heel: her attraction for men. If a handsome man appeared in the Beaubourg, her stellar sensors would diminish, while she tuned into her human side. This would allow the dark fairies to move around her, freely and unnoticed. Her constant focus on men was due to the fact that her star DNA and cells were developing in her body at the same rate as her human hormones. The more she was turning into a star being, or a human angel, the more her human aspects were attracting, and attracted to, their own kind. The struggle in her was still only hinted at during this phase of her life, and not enough for her to have yet noticed.

  The little people enlisted the help of one of their human colleagues, Pierre, who was the security guard at the Hypnosis Centre. As an initiate into the Mysteries of Lucifer, he was the ideal candidate for the purpose; all muscles and equipped with a handsome, chocolate-box-type of face. As soon as he walked past the girls, Cassandra’s eyes were glued on him and not on the show. He stopped to stand next to them, skimming her arm with his. Her hormones jumped around her endocrine system sending her far from subtle reproductive signals she couldn’t ignore. She turned to look at him. He smiled. She felt his thoughts travel to her breasts and down to her genitals. She felt instantly aroused.

  He was very attractive. Not too tall and his face was as cute as a button. He had the same colourings as she: dark brown hair and green eyes. His muscles were well defined but not too bulky. He wore a white shirt and a pair of jeans. Letizia was eyeing him, too. The two girls looked at each other and giggled. With one glance, they understood they were ready to play their favourite game: man-teasing. They would make him hot under the collar, simply because they could.

  Meanwhile, the little people stood still and observed the three youngsters, ready to intervene as soon as opportunity arose. Pierre started to talk to the girls. He addressed them in English, which surprised Cassandra, given that she and her friend had been talking in Italian next to him.

  “This is a great act. The guy can flex and bend his body as if it was made of rubber. It’s like watching something against the laws of physics...”

  “It’s remarkable, and a bit freaky,” Letizia said.

  Cassandra smiled mysteriously and kept her eyes on the show. She knew that by ignoring a man, his attention would be guaranteed. She was right. An hour later the three were sitting in a café on Boulevard St. Michel, sipping champagne and talking about things to do in the city. Pierre had offered to be their guide over the next couple of days. If everything went smoothly, Cassandra might bag herself the lovely Californian, while Letizia could find herself in the arms of the cute French man. Love was in the air. Or, more accurately, passion was on the cards. Unbeknown to the girls, however, something more sinister was lurking in the background.

  Cassandra’s bag was on the floor under her chair. Perhaps it wasn’t very clever to leave it there as a tantalising bait for any petty thief in the vicinity. Normally both girls would be a bit more street-wise. The fairies took it easily. When Cassandra’s hand reached under her seat to fetch it, she realised that it was no longer there. They hadn’t noticed anyone approaching them, given they were sitting in a corner and her chair was next to the adjoining walls. But the bag had disappeared. And with it, her passport, money and student card. Her heart sank. Now what?

  They went first to the Police to report the loss of her identification documents and belongings, and from there to the Italian Embassy. By the time they reached the Police Station, the fairies had already taken her bag to the Catacombs. They wanted to disturb her plans during her stay, and bring her energy down to a lower frequency. The high Core Signature she carried was a real disturbance for the Luciferian Tribe, whose members needed a much lower and denser vibe to thrive. In addition, the bag was covered in her DNA: which would be very useful for Monsieur Harker’s experiments. They also wanted to put their hands on her ID. It may be handy in the future. Luck was on their side; they also found her diary. Their boss would be delighted.

  * * * *

  Cassandra, Letizia and Pierre made their way back to the girls’ hostel. Cassandra felt upset and very vulnerable. She was in a hostile environment, surrounded by unfriendly forces. Normally she could dismiss this nonsense with a blink of her long-lashed eyes, but it didn’t seem to work this time. Her feelings were all over the place and she couldn’t think straight. She wanted to be held and protected. She phoned her adoptive father. Lord Hughes arranged for money to be sent to a bank in the city where she could collect it. It would take a couple of days so she would have to survive with some cash borrowed from Le
tizia. Yet it wasn’t money she was worried about. Something else was draining her soul and her Life Force. She needed a fix of love. As soon as she got out of the phone booth in the cafeteria, the troubadour-surfer crossed her path.

  “Hello there! Where were you this morning? I came to the cafeteria but you weren’t here!”

  He had an Irish accent, to her surprise.

  “I was here! I left around ten to go sightseeing,” she said. “Where were you? By the way, my name is Cassandra. Nice singing this morning. What’s your name?”

  “Conor. Thank you. Nice to meet you. Are you English?”

  “I’m Italian by birth but I’ve been living in England for the past number of years.”

  “Ah! What brings you to Paris?”

  “You!”

  She was her cheeky, assertive self again. They were flirting, as expected. Talking to Conor, her confused state of mind started to ease off. This man’s presence was mellow and calming. Destiny must have sent him.

  She took him by the hand and brought him to the table where Letizia and Pierre were sitting. “Come join me and my friends for a bite.”

  Two couples were formed as the evening stretched into the night. After dinner they went for a walk around the neighbourhood. Cassandra and Conor talked about Ireland. She’d never been to the country but was keen to find out about the spirituality of its people. The place had a strong connection with the spirit of the land, unlike the majority of Western countries. She was intrigued. Conor had a great affinity for ancient spiritual sites. He described himself as a follower of the ancient druidic religion. One of the reasons for his visit to Paris, apart from busking, was to explore its Catacombs. He felt a strong call towards this area and sensed that it emanated a heavy dark force. Cassandra herself had not been aware of it until that very day. She proceeded to relate the events of that afternoon. Conor told her that he felt that that she was at risk in Paris.