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Jaime stood. "I hear my television calling. You kids have fun."
"We will."
Lucas waited for Jaime to leave, then plunked down beside me.
"Alone at last," he murmured.
I snatched the scroll from him, unwound and read it. "So how are we doing this? Straight-up spell-casting? Or fun and games?"
"Do you need to ask? The decision, though, should really be yours. If you're too tired, or too sore--"
"Oh, I feel fine." I grinned. "Fine enough, anyway. Strip spell-casting okay?"
"Better than okay." He looked down at my kimono. "Although you would appear to be at an initial disadvantage."
"You arguing?"
A slow grin as he pulled me to him. "No, not at all."
We didn't get the spell working, having exhausted our--or my--store of energy before a successful cast. It didn't matter. It used to matter. Success or failure at spell-casting practice used to matter a lot, to both of us, and we'd both admitted to hours or even days of frustration following a failure. But now that we almost always practiced together, it had become a game rather than a test. And, no matter whether we cast a new spell successfully or not, practicing together did have one definite advantage--it meant we never left a session feeling frustrated.
I'm Not Dead Yet
WE AWOKE AT SEVEN. JAIME POPPED OVER MINUTES LATER, and from the looks of things, hadn't slept more than an hour or two. While Lucas picked up breakfast, I took a quick shower. I'd just stepped out when someone rapped at our door. Lucas probably, with his hands full again.
"Could you grab that?" I called to Jaime.
I dressed, then opened the bathroom door to find Jaime standing there.
"Vampire at the door," she said.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
I sighed. "Please tell me it's not Cassandra."
"Short auburn hair? Looks about my age? Perfect makeup? Designer outfit?"
"Shit," I said, leaning against the wall.
"How about I don't invite her in?"
"Unfortunately, that doesn't work. Cassandra goes where she pleases, invited or not, wanted or not. Crosses, holy water, icy glares, nothing keeps her out."
"I heard that, Paige," Cassandra called from the main room. "Stop hiding in the bathroom and tell me what this is all about."
I walked through the bedroom into the living area. Cassandra was lounging by the window, taking in the sunlight and, sadly, not bursting into flame.
I turned to Jaime. "Cassandra, this is--"
"I know who she is," Cassandra said. "I have a television."
"Oh, but you two had already introduced yourselves--No, wait..." I looked at Jaime. "You didn't know her name. So how'd you know she was a vampire?"
"Easy. It's like you witches and sorcerers can recognize one another. I'm a necro. She's dead. So I can tell. Only dead things walking around are vamps. Well, there are zombies, but they don't smell like French perfume."
"Don't be ridiculous," Cassandra said, fixing Jaime with a glower. "I'm not dead."
