Annebél sat on the support bar above the back hatch of her Jeep. She brushed out the tangles of her hair. It was now full shoulder length with a dip below the neck in the middle, between two to three inches longer than it was when Tasìa lopped it off.

Below where Annebél dangled her boots, Tasìa put together a makeshift perch for Mel.

Annebél chuckled with a 'whoop' hissing between her teeth. Her eyes were fixed upon the glass oval.

"Can't believe the cable hasn't shorted out as of yet. I still see the pond frying. The foam just gurgling all around a yellow anaconda.

"You don't mind that I want to get as far away from that oddity as we possibly can?"

"Nahhh," Tasìa answered. "There is nothing to be gained from sticking around."

Annebél chuckled. "It gives you the willies too, I see."

"I believe the scientific term is 'the heebie-jeebies."

Tasìa shook her head and waved her hand dismissively at the woods beside the Jeep.

"I don't know what any of that is about, and I don't want to know what any of that is about."

She fastened the hatchback in place but folded the plastiglass back-side window and set it to the side so Sal could maneuver freely while she drove.

Tasìa called out to a nearby tree.

"You ready to go, Mel?"

The Nightwing flew down and landed on the perch. Sachmilli let them know the bird had been harassed by flechettes since it arrived in Asunción.

They could only hazard to guess what that was about. Sachmilli was a familiar presence in Asunsión, especially in the fight district known as the Sweet.

Maybe he had enemies.

Annebél jumped down from the support bar. With her chin raised and her eyes made inscrutable by the mirrored shades, she faced her much shorter friend.

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"What?" Tasìa finally asked.

"As I said, I'm a bit winded to drive, but you' been drinkin'."

Tasìa folded her arms.

"A sobriety test? I shot two birds in mid-flight. My reflexes are fine."

Annebél smiled. She handed over the keys.

"I don't even trust Raùl with my Jeep, mais pour toi, mon cher ami, tout le monde si je pouvais."

Tasìa only had some familiarity with French, she had to repeat the words in her head to translate.

But for you my dear friend, all the world, if I could.

As Annebél walked to the passenger side door, Tasìa watched her and shook her head. She had some objections to that last statement but it wasn't worth the fuss.

Annebél held Val's PA in her hands as she gave directions to the next destination. She let out a, "hmmm."

"Spill it."

"Just an odd phrase I'm following in that spook's notes. Tasìa, how long have you known this Demona person?"

This time Tasìa smiled with a tale-teller's grin.

"I have never actually met her. However, I did discover her body with bullet hole wounds traced through her brain pan."

"What!"

Annebél's shock she found to be most delicious.

"Yes. What we are talking to is an AI construct."

Annebél's head jerked back down, drawn to the device.

"That's not correct," said Demona, joining in on the conversation. "My body did not contain my brain but a bio-synthetic copy wired to my own much like that PA is wired to me now. My brain grew too large to be contained inside a normal skull, so it had to be removed so that I could survive."

Tasìa thought of what she witnessed. Perhaps Demona's hair and bullet wounds obscured any scarring from having brain surgery.

"Your brain was growing?"

"Still growing."

Annebél giggled. "Awesome. Well, the more you know about someone ..."

That's it!

Something wasn't quite right. She carefully reviewed her memory of what León told her about Demona.

...

"Just before our meeting, she paid me a visit."

León blinked. His forehead ruffled in confusion.

"Demona. She had a message for you. León, I think you are more aware of how it possibly could be that she is sending a message from the other side of the grave than I am, so let's skip the part where I have to explain it to you."

He sat back in his chair, appearing more relaxed than before.

"I wasn't feigning shock, my lovely friend. I'm genuinely surprised that her intricate little plan worked. What did she say?"

...

Tasìa was left with the impression that he was admiringly impressed with his fellow spook's digital resurrection, but that was not what occurred.

"Demona," she asked. "You never told León the truth about your condition."

"Not so! He knew. He always knew. He is my husband, after all. Until death do us part, and I am not dead."

Cold chills ran up Tasìa's arms. She had to correct her steering as she steadied herself.

Tasìa had the spook's PA on her as she lured León in the bathroom.

She knew. Demona knew.

"You alright," Annebél asked.

"I need to pull over for a minute."

Tasìa's eyes roamed ahead for a place to park.

"We can't," said Annebél. "We are being followed."