What a wild ride these books are.  Somehow it all works but I'm totally surprised at how much gets thrown into Cassie's already convoluted life and love life.  

The wibbly wobbly time-y wimey bits -- still not a huge fan but not too overdone in this series entry.

But now he’d had time to think about it. And, apparently, to work up a massive attitude. I seemed to have that effect on the men in my life, I thought darkly, and took another sip of something horrible. We were in a bar in the...

“Here.” Casanova handed over his precious bottle of hell juice.

I blinked at him. 

 

“You’re white as a sheet,” he said gruffly.

 

I took the bottle, a little gingerly. And okay, if I’d needed confirmation that things were bad, I’d just gotten it.

 

Casanova was being nice to me. We were so fucked. 

But by then I was under the table, grabbing Casanova and the bottle he was still holding.

“Give me that!” “

Getcherown,” he slurred, and grabbed it back. And blinked around blearily, before focusing on the veiled guard who had just dove after me. Only Casanova apparently thought he was also after his precious hell juice. So he bonked him on the head with it.

He preferred to let other people to deal with his problems, preferably while he stood around and informed them about what they were doing wrong.