"Did you just apologize for telling me to go to hell? Are we quite certain this spell problem isn't actually demonic possession? Where's the clever comeback? The biting quip? 'Go to hell'? Terribly pedestrian."
"Do you want me to say it again?"
Her lips twitched. "Perhaps. It's been a very long time since anyone said it to me. Except Aaron, of course. But he says it so often it doesn't count."
"You just keep telling yourself that."
The smile broke through. "Now that's more like it."
She settled back to take a better look at me. Most people squirm under Cassandra's cool, green-eyed appraisals. Even Lucas does, though he tries to hide it. I don't. Cassandra DuCharme is like one of those countesses you see in old movies, always elegant and outwardly charming, before she slams your legs out from under you with a pithy, razor-sharp observation. She's a three-hundred-year-old vampire who's old enough to say what she likes and not give a damn what anyone thinks. In a world where people seem to trip over themselves to be nice, I find her refreshing. Or I do when I'm not already nursing a bruised ego.
"I thought you were in Atlanta with Aaron?" I said. "You didn't turn him over to an angry mob again, did you?"
"That's better. No, Aaron is here. We finished speaking to the vampire who came to him after being contacted by this group. We arrived in Miami this morning."
"And he's making you sit in the car until he can escape? Or are you hiding here so no one can ask you to do anything?"
"See, a few minutes of my company and you're already feeling more like yourself. Which is why, lucky child, you have earned the honor of my companionship on this little excursion of yours."
"Ha-ha."
Another brow arch. "You think I jest? Apparently, you are in need of a minder and I volunteered."
I saw Lucas approaching and got out of the car, half closing the door behind me.
"Cassandra?" I said. "Tell me you're kidding."
"Unfortunately, no," he murmured.
"I heard that," Cassandra said.
"I'm sure you did," he said, then we both got in. "Hello, Cassandra."
"Hello, Lucas. Not going to apologize for that rude comment?"
When he didn't answer, she smiled. "Very good. A marked improvement."
He turned to me. "Cassandra is coming to L.A. to accompany you on your lead. Then you'll accompany her on hers."
"Because she needs a minder . . . or she'll wander off in one of her end-of-life fogs."
"See?" Cassandra said. "I told you she'd do better with me around."
"What's the lead?" I said.
"A supernatural contacted the council, through Paige. A half-demon named Eloise, who reported seeing Anita Barrington in L.A., with someone supposedly recruiting for this movement."
"Anita Barrington?"
Cassandra's brows arched. "And they say I don't pay enough attention to council records. Elena worked with Anita during that silly portal business."
"Right."
I remembered the case now. Anita Barrington had been a witch that the werewolves used as a resource while investigating a portal alleged to have freed Jack the Ripper in Toronto. As usual, the truth was far more mundane. The guy it freed was a Victorian immortality quester--Matthew Hull. Anita Barrington was also an immortality quester, and had helped Elena find Hull. Until she had a final encounter with her mortality.
"Didn't she die during that investigation?" I said.
"Being dead doesn't necessarily stop anyone from causing trouble," Lucas said. "As you well know."