Tony’s regular breathing told Cassandra he slept deeply. Good. She needed him to get his rest.
She should be sleeping, too, but even though she knew the importance of a good night’s sleep, she couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t find the right position that would magically induce slumber.
It wasn’t the bed’s fault; it was just as comfortable as any of the other hotel beds she’d slept on since this whole crazy adventure began. No, her damn mind kept racing, picking at the problem of confronting the Escobars, despite her conscious realization that there was only so much preparation they could do when they were flying blind.
At least she hadn’t felt the presence of any other witches or warlocks in the airport, or during their drive across the city, or here in the tall condominium building w
