Apparently Cordelia's attempt at meditation worked better than she thought it had, because one minute she was alone on that bench and the next there was someone beside her that she should have seen coming from a mile and a half away. Her eyes flew open at the voice, her mind instantly snapping back to reality around her rather than the peaceful place it had just been. Her first instinct was to scream, which she managed to curb, but the urge to surge to her feet was something she followed through quite quickly.
With all of the grace born from years of cheerleading, martial arts training, and swordplay, Cordelia was on her feet and the crossbow was held securely in her hands. She didn't bring the weapon up but rather let it dangle at her side, her hazel eyes going from wide as saucers to narrowed to virtual slits as her face took on an expression of displeasure.
"That's L.A. for you," she remarked to his comment before adding, "And you have about three seconds to tell me who the hell you are before I bring everyone in that hotel right out those doors." She was proud of herself. She'd managed to issue her threat without her voice shaking even once. It was going to be a comfort, she thought sarcastically, to know she hadn't shown any fear when he ripped her arms out of their sockets.
The thought of the protection spell still firmly in place, clearly, had yet to cross her mind.