So You Think Your Sister's a Vampire? (The Chronicles of Cassidy Book 1)

by ID Johnson

  The look on his face was one of almost amusement, as if he couldn’t believe I had the guts to look him squarely in the eyes and tell him I was about to do exactly what he’d told me not to and let my friends know what was going on, but he said nothing.

  Upstairs, my phone was chiming before I even sat down on my bed. I knew who the text was from, and once I’d pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at it, I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Cassidy Elizabeth, I think we talked about this. You’re supposed to let this go and not tell your friends jack about Jack.”

  I replied, “Dr. Sanderson, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I tell my friends anything when I know nothing?”

  “You know more than you should.”

  Feeling bold, I sent a text back, “Come up here and make me stop then, why don’t you?”

  It took him a few moments to answer, and I wondered if someone had asked him who he was texting. Finally, I got my reply. “You know I can.”

  I did. I knew he could do a lot of things, even if he wasn’t a vampire. He’s a big dude. But I also knew that he wouldn’t. Because he liked me. I didn’t know why, but I knew that he did. And I liked him, too. For some reason, I felt like I’d known him a lot longer than a few days. He seemed familiar in the way the sun or the moon feel like old friends, like he’d always been there in the background, part of my life I’d never noticed before.

  Part of me wanted to respect his wishes and not tell my friends anything, but I knew they deserved to know as much as I did. I called Lucy and Emma on three-way and waited for them both to answer before I began to recite what I’d learned from Cadence. I hadn’t really spoken to them since I’d left Lucy’s the day before, when my mom picked me up to tell me about Jack, though we’d sent a few texts about how we couldn’t believe it, and I let them know I was okay—or would be—eventually.

  I told them I really felt like my sister and her friend were carrying on a mental conversation. I expected Lucy to believe me, which she did, but what really surprised me was that Emma did, too. She said she had gone ahead and started doing some research on vampires herself and that most popular legends state that they have the ability to use telepathy as a means of communication. When I mentioned Jack’s missing body, Lucy about lost it herself, exclaiming that it would only make sense if Jack had left the hospital on his own and they’d had to hunt him down and destroy him. We were back to the good vampire/bad vampire scenario, and as much as I hated to believe it, it was beginning to make sense. Maybe my sister was a vampire, but if she was, I could at least hope that she was one that was supposed to help protect people from evil vampires.

  I hung up and laid back on my bed, wondering if my sister had actually bitten someone and sucked their blood. I didn’t think my sister could kill Jack, and I believed Elliott when he told me that she hadn’t killed Drew. Was it possible that whichever evil vampire had killed Drew had infected Jack? It seemed like he had started getting sick almost right away, back when I went to visit him. I know other people thought he was acting weird because he was upset about Drew, and that would make sense, but part of me thought there was a good chance that he was turning even back then.

  Lucy must’ve been thinking the same thing. She sent a text that said, “Maybe Jack was infected the night Drew died, and this was just an incubation period?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” I replied. We sent a few more texts with theories and timelines, and Lucy said she’d update the Wiki. I’d set my phone down and was staring at the ceiling, thinking about how devastated I’d been the night before and feeling thankful for Hannah’s superpowers when a knock on my door had me sitting up.

  “Yeah?”

  Cadence opened the door slowly. “Hey. How are you doing?”

  I shrugged. “I’m okay. I feel better today than I did yesterday.” I considered feeling her out about Hannah, but I let it go. Whatever was happening, it had to be taking its toll on my sister. She looked even more exhausted now than she had when she’d had her head on my shoulder, although I couldn’t get over how much more vibrant her skin looked.

  “Mom said dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” She sat down next to me on the bed. “How’s school been?”

  “Fine.”

  “How’s that boy you never want to talk about?”

  I blushed. “He’s good. He came over to study for algebra with me last week.” It seemed like a million years ago.

  My sister gave me a mischievous grin. “Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend, Cass?” she asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

  “No!” I exclaimed, sitting up. “He’s definitely not my boyfriend.” Like I could even get my hopes up that he might be someday.

  “I don’t know…” my sister said in a sing-song voice.

  “What about you?” I asked, remembering her holding hands with Elliott. “Anything you wanna tell me?”

  Cadence raised both eyebrows and stared at me hard for a long moment. “Uh, I think I hear Mom calling,” she said, darting off of the bed almost too fast to be believed.

  “Uh huh!” I called after her, jumping up and running to catch her. “I think you’re a fine one to talk, teasing me about boys.”

  Hearing my sister’s laughter momentarily made me forget that everyone around us seemed to be dying or changing into creatures of the night. She reached the foyer and turned back to look at me. “No boyfriend here,” she replied. “I can’t help it everyone wants a piece of this, though.” She winked at me and made a really weird gesture with both arms, like she was displaying what she meant by “this,” and I cracked up. Having my sister back, even if it was just for a little while, and even if she wasn’t really herself, was comforting. So was walking into a dining room with just my family and digging into mom’s pot roast without thinking of vampires or funerals. It might not last, but I was determined to hold on to it for now.

  Chapter 21

  I went to bed a little earlier than usual that night after updating my notes and going over a few things. Lucy had sent me more information about vampire infections, and Emma sent some links to sites that talked about telepathy, but I didn’t have the energy to look at them right then. Wes’s birthday party was still on for the next day, and even though part of me didn’t want to go, my parents thought it was a good idea. And I thought maybe I needed a little more normal. I closed my notebook and my eyes, shutting off the light on my phone, which was already plugged in to charge.

  Maybe half an hour passed before I heard my sister’s voice. At first, I wasn’t sure what was happening, but then I realized she was on the phone, though it sounded brief. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but by her tone, I got the impression all was not well. She sounded stressed. I considered getting up and going next door to check on her, but then I heard her bedroom window open and remembered it was no longer my responsibility to make my sister feel better; she had her new friends for that.

  I fully expected to hear Aaron’s voice. I wondered why he wasn’t with her when she got here today. What could possibly be so important in Billings? I wasn’t even sure where that was. But, he is the boss, after all, and I thought maybe he had more important things to do than babysit his new recruit. So far, however, he’d been the only one to come through Cadence’s window—that I knew of.

  Until now. I couldn’t understand a word that was being said, as I’m sure they were both being quiet because they were aware I was on the other side of the wall, but it was definitely Elliott in there. His voice reverberated through the wall in bass tones, much deeper and richer than Aaron’s.

  A pang of jealousy hit me in the chest. I had no idea what it was I thought I had to be envious about. Elliott did not belong to me, after all. But the idea that he was in my sister’s room right now, talking to her about whatever it had been about the phone call that upset her, made me want to run over there and scream at Cadence that she wasn’t allowed to talk to him, that he was mine. She could have the rest of he
r new friends, but I wanted Elliott for myself.

  It was stupid, and I knew that. And it wasn’t like I had a crush on him or anything. It was more like someone was trying to take up my big brother’s time, and I wanted him only for me. Embarrassed by my own emotions, I pulled the blanket up over my head and tried to block out the sound of them chuckling quietly.

  A little while later, the room grew unusually quiet, and then, a few minutes passed before I heard my sister’s bedroom door creak open. I had a feeling it wasn’t Cadence who was headed downstairs, though.

  I rolled over, facing the wall, turning my back on my sister and Elliott and this whole new ridiculous world they’d introduced me to. I didn’t need any of it. Everything had been just fine and dandy before Cadence had to run off to that stupid Eidolon Festival and get herself turned into a bloodsucker. If I could go back and do it all again, I would. I’d burst through my sister’s bedroom door and scream at Drew, talk some sense into her, make her recognize that she was making a decision that would lead to her death, and Jack’s too. But I couldn’t do that. I had no way of turning back time.

  I wondered if any of Cadence’s new friends had that for a special power.

  Tossing and turning for the next hour began to weigh on me. Even though Wes’s party didn’t start until the next afternoon, so I could sleep in, I felt like I needed to get some sleep or I was going to lose my mind. Besides, I wanted to know if Elliott was still in our house.

  I got up, put on my robe and my slippers, and headed out the door toward the stairs, careful not to wake my sister as I went.

  The light over the stove was on, casting an eerie glow I could see from underneath the door from the dining room. My parents’ bedroom was on the other side of the house, and I didn’t think I’d disturb them since my dad snored really loudly and my mom always wore earplugs and ran a box fan, even in the winter, to drown him out, but I didn’t even know at this point who might still be in my house.

  I pushed the door open and wasn’t awfully surprised to see Elliott sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper, with what looked like a mug of coffee in front of him. Without looking up, he said, “Hey, Cass. Whatchu doin’ up?”

  Going about my business as if it was perfectly normal for a man I barely knew to be sitting in the breakfast nook, I opened the fridge. “Couldn’t sleep,” I replied. I pulled out a gallon of milk and set it on the counter before grabbing a glass out of the cupboard.

  “Me neither,” he replied, folding the paper and setting it in front of him on the table. I considered asking him if vampires had to sleep, but then, Cadence was sleeping. I glanced at him over my shoulder to see he was watching me intently. I poured the milk into the glass, put the lid back on, and padded over to the fridge to put it away before returning to the glass. Elliott’s eyes followed me the whole time.

  I picked up the glass and took a few steps to the microwave. I had the door opened before he said, “Cassidy? What in the world are you doing?” He was out of his chair and by my side quicker than a flash. “You can’t microwave a glass of milk.”

  Looking up at him, I raised an eyebrow. “This is how I always warm my milk.”

  The expression of disgust on his face rivaled one an elderly woman might display if she caught a granddaughter wearing white after Labor Day. “Give me that,” he said, snatching the glass out of my hand and crossing to the stove.

  Turning to watch him, I stood with my mouth open, pushing the microwave door closed without looking. Elliott found a small saucepan and poured the milk into it, flicking on a burner. He was mumbling to himself, something about, “kids these days,” and “barbarians.” I was amused; I never would’ve taken him for the kind of person who could be so irritated by something that seemed so unimportant to me.

  I decided to take a seat at the table while he began to slowly stir the milk, being very careful to warm it evenly and not burn it. “You seem to know a lot about warming milk,” I noted.

  “Yeah, well, my mom taught me early. Used to have to help take care of my baby brother. And then…” he stopped talking. I wondered where the thought was going, but he didn’t seem to want to finish it, so I went back to what he had actually felt comfortable telling me.

  “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “Had is right.” He turned his back to me then, and in the dim light from above the stove, he looked a bit frightening, dressed in dark jeans, his signature black jacket still on. The light cast a shadow over most of him but illuminated the top of his curly hair.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied. He muttered something that sounded a little bit like thanks as his shoulders hunched up and down. “What happened?” I knew it was none of my business, but it seemed like the sort of question a person might ask.

  He turned back to face me now, though he was still stirring. “He got hit by a train,” he replied quietly. I gasped, and he shrugged again. “It was a long time ago, though.”

  My hands had flown up to cover my mouth on their own accord. I withdrew them. “That’s just terrible. I’m very sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He turned back around now, but I could tell that it really wasn’t.

  Part of me thought I should leave well enough alone, but I am nothing if not inquisitive. “How old was he?”

  “Uh, a little older than you,” he replied, stirring. “Seventeen.”

  I sighed. Another life taken too early. “That’s… I’m sorry.” I knew I was saying the same thing over and over again, but there really wasn’t anything else to say.

  Elliott seemed satisfied that my milk was warm enough, so he flipped the burner off and carefully poured it back into the glass. He brought it over to me and resumed his seat.

  “Thank you,” I said before cautiously picking up the container, being sure it wasn’t too hot before I took a sip. It was delicious. He was right. It was much better heated over the stove than ran through the microwave. “It’s really good,” I said before taking another gulp.

  He smiled at me. The paper was back in his hands, but he wasn’t reading it. “Good.”

  I took a few more swallows, staring at the table instead of him, before I stuck my toes into the proverbial pond. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Nope,” he said, straightening the paper so that it flapped loudly.

  “Please?”

  Huffing like I’d asked him to drive me to Disney World, he said, “What is it, Cass? You know I’m not going to able to answer you. I’ve already told you way more than I am supposed to.”

  “And I appreciate that,” I replied, “but, I can’t help but wonder what all that discussion was earlier, about the CDC, and Jack’s body missing. Does the CDC really cremate people?”

  “Sure,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t they? If someone has an infectious disease, we can’t hardly let them go running around spreading it all over the place.”

  “We?” I asked, glad to finally have him talking.

  “Yep.” He groaned at me and rolled his eyes before setting the paper aside and reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled something out and glanced at it before turning it to face me. It was a badge, like one you might need to get into an office building, and it had a picture of him looking a bit cheesy, sort of like Will Ferrell’s wedding picture in Old School. Next to it, I clearly read, “Dr. Elliott Sanderson, Center for Disease Control.”

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “What else you got in that pocket of yours? FBI? CIA? Department of Homeland Security?”

  He shrugged and stuck the badge back in his pocket, taking a sip of his coffee before he said, “Maybe.”

  I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms. “Now, that’s something I would think Aaron would get mad at you for telling me.”

  His smirk took up half his face. “Are you and Aaron having a lot of intimate conversations these days?”

  “No, of course not,” I replied, slamming my hand down on the table, “which is why it shouldn’t matter what you tell me
.”

  “It’s not just Aaron I’m worried about,” he replied, keeping his voice down as if my hand slamming might wake up half the house. “Your parents have made it very clear that they are not ready for you to know anything more than what they are willing to tell you. Dang it, Cass, I’m trying to respect that.”

  Elliott looked a lot more serious and a little more angry than I had ever seen him before, and I didn’t like it. “But… why?” I asked, my voice almost a whisper. “What is it that my parents are keeping from me?”

  “Not keeping from you. Protecting you from .” The anger was gone, but his words were still measured. “You don’t know what you don’t know.”

  I stared at him hard for a long moment. I had no idea whether or not I should be trusting him. Was this how Jack and Drew had been snookered? Did they think they could trust someone that they couldn’t? Is that how my sister fell under their spell and ended up—something different. “Did my sister kill Jack?” I already knew the answer, but I needed him to tell me. For sure.

  “Of course not.”

  “Did one of your associates?”

  “No!”

  “Do you know who did?”

  He let out an exhausted breath. “Why can’t you just accept that Jack died from a disease like everyone else?”

  “Because I’m not like everyone else.”

  “You got that right.” He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it standing up and curled in all different directions. “Cassidy, Jack is gone. I’m not trying to brainwash you, but you need to let him go, okay?”

  Tears filled my eyes, taken from the well inside of me that grieved for the baseball player my sister had loved so well, that I had loved in a way that was now being transferred to the man in front of me for reasons I could not understand, reasons out of my control. I said nothing, only dropped my eyes to the floor.