“So, what would two completely normal people who don’t hate each other do for the day in New Orleans?”
A smile takes over her face. Not that I care that I put it there, but it should be noted for the record.
“First and foremost, we’re getting on that ferry and getting the best tacos you’ve ever had,” she says, standing and walking, not even caring if I’m following or not.
Just like I found her before, I let the magic between us tighten as I follow my wife to get ferry tickets.
They were indeed the best tacos I’ve ever had. Who would have thought an old gas station in Algiers, of all places?
I hate to admit that I’ve eaten eight, compared to Violet’s three.
“Shit,” she hisses, blotting the side of her mouth. “This might sting,” she says, as her wand taps my knee under the table.
It does sting, but only for a moment. When I glance up, I blink a few times as she flips her sunglasses over her eyes.
The woman in front of me looks nothing like Violet. She’s a redhead with freckles and an even paler complexion.
“What the fuck?” I say, pulling out my phone and flipping it to look at myself. “Seriously?” I ask, looking at myself.
I look like the security guard at the circuit court.
“It’s temporary. I can feel a witch here,” she whispers.
“And you think us looking different will matter?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’d say you not looking like a six-foot-seven beast and me not having identifiable hair and features of a High Priestess is a good call.”
I don’t have anything to say to that, so instead I drink my Coke that came in a glass bottle and consider ordering another taco.
“They’ll still be able to sense us,” I say and she tilts her glasses down. Her blue eyes are the same.
“Will you eat your taco and stop bitching? Maybe we should go home.”
“Miss Delvaux, are you afraid of the coven here?” I ask her, teasing, and she swallows.
“Yes, and if you aren’t, you haven’t met their High Priestess. If you think my grand-mère is a hard ass, Prudence makes her look like a saint. It’s best we go undetected. We definitely won’t be caught dead in the Garden District, which is a shame.”
“Is that where you’d wanna go?” I ask her and she shrugs.
“Doesn’t matter. We could do a swamp tour, a few museums, oh, a ghost tour,” she says with a smirk.
“Could you illusion us?” I suggest, and she tilts her head at me.
“Maybe you’re not a big dumb Alpha after all,” she says. I should be mad, should roll my eyes.
Instead, Thorin is preening in the back of my mind over the fact she said Alpha.
“Let’s finish up here, take the ferry back and find somewhere private where I can make us incognito,” she says, downing therest of her drink. “Did you get enough to eat? We can get something sweet when we’re on the other side of the river.”
“Thorin is the one who likes sweets,” I tell her, and her brow furrows.
“Did he bring me that cupcake?”
I shrug, wanting to lie, and Thorin pushes at my mind.“You better tell her I gave her that cupcake.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Here, I thought you’d be Dr. Jekyll in this situation. It appears your wolf is.”
