Samael was buttoning his coat when a knock sounded at the door. Strudel raced down the hall, feet skidding on the polished floor, determined to be the first to greet their visitor.
“And yet I’m the one with the opposable thumbs and the ability to actually open the door,” Samael told her as he joined her in the foyer.
Strudel gave him an impatient look and pawed at the wood. He opened it to find Cassandra on his doorstep, covered plate in hand. As usual, she was dressed in monochrome from head to toe, the only color the neon flashes on her running shoes.
“Long time no see.” She gave an awkward, self-conscious wave with her free hand.
“Cassandra. How are you?”
She looked surprisingly good for someone who had lost it in a big way not so long ago. Her eyes were bright, her shoulders squar
