“Way. You left one little hair clip behind. I managed to get a few strands off of it. That’s how I managed to locate you and then perform this dream spell. It’s not very easy to do with such a small bit of foci, but I managed. Usually the setting for the dream would be created by memories from your mind so you would be more comfortable, but since the spell is a little on the weak side I placed us in my favorite ice cream shop in the town near where I live,” Aimee explained.
“No, no…” Cassandra shook her head adamantly, despite the fact she was actually starting to believe the woman across from her.
“My name really is Aimee, and I really am a witch. A real witch. Full-blooded. I saw you at The Stratosphere when Frank, my bastard vampire master, and I were on our way to get a relic you stole.”
“My brain could easily fill that into my dream,” Cassandra protested. “I had a rough moment, felt a little lonely, so I’m dreaming about the beautiful woman I saw in Vegas.”
Tilting her head to one side, Aimee grinned. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Duh. You’re totally my type.”
“So you definitely like women,” Aimee said, nodding to herself. With a keen look in her eyes, she said, “That makes sense.”
“This dream isn’t making any sense.”
Aimee spooned some ice cream into her mouth and continued to thoughtfully scrutinize Cassandra.
Pushing her dish aside, Cassandra leaned over the table, staring into the mesmerizing blue eyes. “If you’re not part of my dream, prove it.”
Aimee licked her spoon.
The mere sight sent shivers through Cassandra. “Are you sure this isn’t a sex dream?”
Lightly touching Cassandra’s hand, Aimee shook her head.
Cassandra felt the same tantalizing energy flow between them.
“I’m a witch. You’re a dhamphir,” Aimee said in a soft, yet urgent voice. “You stole something from Frank, my vampire master, and now he wants you. He’s already dealing with a broker to bring you to where we live. He’s setting a trap. I’m fairly sure that you’re going to be commissioned to acquire something from Frank to lure you here. Frank has instructed me to create spells that will trap you. He wants to make you his minion.”
“Frank? A vampire named Frank?” Cassandra snorted. “Kinda lame.”
“His original name is Francois. He’s French.”
Cassandra stared at their touching hands, a knot slowly forming in her gut. “This can’t be real.”
“It is.”
“So, when this job comes down, I’m not supposed to go, huh?”
“No, I want you to come here.” Tears shimmered in the other woman’s eyes. “I want to be free. I want to escape here. I want to be free of Frank. If you come here, you can help me escape him.”
Cassandra swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay, so let’s say this is real. Why would you trust me to rescue you? You don’t even know my name.”
“Because of this.” Aimee lifted their hands. “When I touched you I felt safe. Instantly. Maybe it makes no sense, but I somehow knew you were important. Didn’t you feel something?”
With a nod, Cassandra admitted it to herself and Aimee. She had felt something she didn’t understand. “Maybe that’s why I’m dreaming all this.”
“No, this dream is because of the spell. Please, believe me.” Aimee’s fingers were trembling.
“Fine, Aimee, it’s real. What am I supposed to do? Come in with guns blazing?” Cassandra laid her other hand over their entwined fingers. “I’m a thief, not Rambo.”
Biting her lower lip, Aimee hesitated, then said, “Just come. I’ll have spells ready to help us escape.”
“Why don’t you do it on your own?”
“I can’t,” Aimee whispered. “I’m bonded to Frank.”
“So what will me being there change?”