"A real séance," she said as she finished. "Now all we need is sleeping bags and a pillow fight. When I was young, I was never allowed to go to sleepovers, in case the kids tried a séance. Might have given them more than they expected."
We settled onto the floor.
"I'll be casting a general summoning spell," Lucas said. "A mild one, I should say, nothing likely to conjure up anything dangerous."
"I'll do my communication spell," I said. "It's for mental communication with the living, but it might help."
"Mental communication?" Jaime said. "Witches can do that? Cool."
"Not really. It only works if the other party is expecting it and only if they're some distance away, so really, what's the point? Save a few bucks on cell phone charges? The reception is crappier than the cheapest cell provider."
We all settled in, did our thing… and nothing happened.
"Hey!" Jaime yelled at the ceiling. "An hour ago you were tearing apart a bookstore trying to get my attention, and now you can't be bothered to say hello? Do you know who you're talking to? The most famous necro in the U.S. of A. Not only that, but a former Coven Leader and the son of a Cabal CEO. Three powerful supernaturals, waiting with bated breath to talk to you."
Across the room, Lucas's Day-Timer fell from the table.
"I think that means it isn't impressed," I said.
The Day-Timer cover flipped open.
"I believe that's a sign," Lucas said. "Shall I…?"
"Go stand by it and watch," I said. "We'll keep working."
Jaime did her invocation while I cast.
"Nothing," Lucas said before I could ask. "Perhaps-"
The pages started to flip.
"Seems we have a time delay from the ghost world," I said.
"It's turned to the first D page in my address book," Lucas said. "If the spirit is referring to a specific person on this page, I'm not making the connection. My supernatural contacts are coded in another section. These are all humans."
My purse slid off the chair by the door, unzipping as it fell and scattering the contents on the carpet. A moment later, my PalmPilot spun.
"A techno-savvy spook," Jaime said. "Maybe it wants to communicate by text messaging."
"Or, more likely," Lucas said, "it's not techno-savvy or, at least, can't operate an electronic organizer. I believe the message we're supposed to receive is that the correct name is located, not in my address book, but in Paige's."
"How would it know what's in there?" I said, crossing the floor to pick up my Palm.
"Perhaps it doesn't know, so much as assume. Who might you know whose last name starts with a D? Presumably a supernatural."
"That could be a dozen people, maybe more. There's-Wait, we've had other clues. The bookstore. Of all the books in one section, it only knocked down copies of Salem's Lot."
"Witches?" Lucas asked.
Jaime shook her head. "Vampires-but if the spook doesn't know its pop culture, it might think witches."
"It was also knocking down copies of Homer's Iliad," I said.
"Oh, great," Jaime said. "We move from Who Wants to be a Millionaire to 'Final Jeopardy.' Where are we going to find an egghead who's read the Iliad?"
"Uh, right here," I said. "Well, I had to. Required reading for college English."
"It was on my curriculum as well," Lucas said.
"Okay, the high school dropout reveals herself again," Jaime said. "Hey, I knew the Stephen King answer. That oughtta get me a nice parting gift. So what's the Iliad about?"
"The Trojan War," I said.
"With the horse," Jaime said. "I knew that. Any supernaturals in the story?"
"There's an enchantress, Circe-no, that's the Odyssey."
"Unless, again, the spirit is mistaken about its literary references," Lucas said. "If it believed Salem's Lot was about witches, and the sorceress was from the Iliad…"
"Let's start there, then," Jaime said. "Witches whose last names start with D. You're a witch, so the ghost might assume you know-"
"Cassandra," I said, thumping my Palm down. "Cassandra the Prophetess, from the Iliad. Cassandra DuCharme, from the interracial council."
"Let me guess," Jaime said. "This Cassandra is a witch."
"Vampire."
"Even better." Jaime looked to the ceiling. "Is that it? Do we win?"
No response.
"If it can't hear us, it'll need some other prompt," I said. "Hold on."
I grabbed my pen and notepad from the spilled contents of my purse, tore a sheet from the pad, and wrote CASSANDRA. I laid the sheet on the table. Again, the spirit gave no response.
"Well," Jaime said. "Three possibilities. One, we're flat-out wrong. Two, the spook has simmered down because we finally got the message. Three, it's illiterate."
"If the message is Cassandra, I still don't know what that means," I said.
"Why don't you call her," Lucas said. "See whether she can shed some light on this."
Paddling Upstream During a Hurricane
I used our hotel room phone to call Cassandra. This was moderately indiscreet, and normally I'd have been more cautious, but the truth was, phoning from the hotel was the best way to ensure she'd answer. Cassandra was a call-screener, and not one who just ignored calls from strangers. She almost always let her machine pick up, then phoned back at her leisure. The only way to persuade her to answer was to pique her curiosity. A call from a Miami hotel just might do that.
Cassandra answered on the second ring.
"It's Paige," I said.
The line went silent and I could fairly hear Cassandra's annoyance buzzing down it. Short of "accidentally" pulling out the phone cord, though, there was little she could do. Well, she could hang up, but that would be crass, and Cassandra would never be crass.
"What is the problem, Paige?" she asked, voice dripping icicles.
"I had a question-"
"Oh, of course you do. Why else would you call? Just to chat, say hello? Hardly. Very presumptuous of you, Paige, to come asking for favors after what you've done to me with Elena."
"I haven't done-"
"I don't know what you've been telling her about me but, let me assure you, I will set her straight. I understand you feel threatened in your friendship with her, but-"
"Cassandra," I said sharply. "I haven't said anything to Elena about you. Why would I? If she's not taking your calls, then I'd suggest you ask her why not. Or better yet, ask yourself."
"What's that supposed to-"
"It has nothing to do with me, that's all I'm saying. Believe me, I have better things to do than sabotage your friendships. No one else's world revolves around you, Cassandra."
"Did you call me to insult me, Paige?"
"No, I called to see how you're doing."
"Very funny."
"No, I'm serious. I'm in the midst of a murder investigation and your name came up-"
"Oh, and you suspect me, do you? How… thoughtful."
"No, I don't suspect you," I said through gritted teeth. Sometimes, carrying on a conversation with Cassandra was like paddling upstream during a hurricane. "The victims had all their blood and I'm sure you wouldn't waste a free meal. I'm calling because your name came up, so I was concerned. Has everything been okay there?"
"Are you saying I'm in danger? How long did you know this before you deigned to call?"