Page 21 of Queens Will Play

I smiled. I never failed to find a parking spot—whether I was the driver or the passenger. I had some special connection with whatever entity it was that we called Carla, the Parking Goddess. Maybe it was bravado, maybe it was manifesting, or maybe there really was some divine meter maid out there listening to my prayers. Whatever the case, I always seemed to find a spot when I needed one.

“All right, let’s go find out what’s happening with Marion.”

We hurried across the street, trying to shield ourselves from the rain. My stiletto ankle boots made clicking sounds on the wet pavement but I had put non-slick stickers onto the bottom and could run at ease in them. I felt awkward being seen out in public with the tiara, but I’d picked the least ostentatious one possible, and more people stared at my boobs and corset rather than my head. Long ago, I’d decided to utilize my bustline as a weapon. If men were going to gawk, I’d use it to my advantage.

The Supe-Urban Café had changed décor several times over the years, but it had always remained light and airy, with an open, comfortable atmosphere. Light music tinkled in the background—not loud enough to be intrusive, but at a level that only added to the ambience.

Huge potted plants made the café feel slightly tropical in nature, but the smell was anything but tropical, and the harvest décor brought the feeling of autumn fully in to surround the customers. I raised my nose and sniffed.

“Beef vegetable soup today,” I said. “And either pumpkin pie or pumpkin bread.”

“All I can smell are the cinnamon rolls,” Delilah said. “You’d think, being born a werecat, I’d have the superior sense of smell.”

I looked around for Marion. She was helping another customer, so I gave her a little wave and steered Delilah to one of the few empty tables. As we settled down in the ivory chairs—the color scheme of the restaurant was ivory and green and brown—I unfastened the brooch holding my cape on, and slid it off, draping it across the chair next to me. Delilah shrugged off her jacket and picked up a menu.

A waitress brought over water. “Do you know what you want, or do you need a few minutes?” she asked, a smile on her face. She seemed tired, though. Her lips were smiling, but her eyes looked exhausted.

I glanced at the menu. It had been a while since we’d been here. “Let me start with an appetizer of calamari, and a triple shot mocha, please.”

Delilah ordered a plate of mozzarella sticks and a cup of tea. “We can share,” she said.

I nodded, waiting until the waitress vanished. Marion seemed to be finishing up with whoever it was she was talking with.

“She changed the menu, but she still has the cinnamon rolls,” I said.

“Good. Those were always her biggest seller.”

At that moment, Menolly entered the restaurant, joining us. She sat down next to me. “Have you talked to her yet?”

I shook my head. “We just got here.”

The waitress came back, but Menolly shook her head. Marion kept some bottled blood on hand, but it was basic. I opened my purse and handed her a bottle of pumpkin spice latte flavored blood.

“Here, Morio made this for you. It’s a new flavor,” I said.

“Thanks,” Menolly actually smiled. She hadn’t been smiling a lot lately.

I turned back to Delilah. “So, you were telling me about Chamiya?”

She paused for a moment, thinking. “Right…about Chamiya…I had to ask the Autumn Lord to give me the ability to stop her from practicing some of her magic. He gave me a ward that can dampen some of her powers,” she said, looking serious.

“Is it that dangerous?” I asked, startled. I hadn’t known that things were that serious.

“Uh huh,” Delilah said with a nod. “Two weeks ago, she started a fire and almost burned another child. I don’t think she meant to hurt him, but he picked up the toy she wanted to play with at a park, and she got mad. I caught her before she could send the fireball resting on her fingertips toward him, but it scared the hell out of me. What am I going to do as she grows up, Camille?” Delilah turned a horrified look my way. “What if she accidentally killed someone, not realizing what she was doing?”

“She’s only two right now,” I said, trying to ease her mind.

“Yes, she’s only two, but that means she doesn’t have any social restraint. And what happens when she reaches her teen years and throws a fit because we won’t allow her to date, or to wear makeup, or whatever it happens to be? You’re damned right, I’m afraid of her. I’m afraid of what she might become.”

Menolly leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell us? You didn’t have to keep this to yourself.”

“I know but…” Delilah trailed off.

I caught my breath. “I didn’t realize it was so serious,” I said.

“Well, it is. And I didn’t tell the two of you because I don’t know what to do,” Delilah said, frustration filling her face. “Shade keeps saying we’ll handle it, and the Autumn Lord tells me over and over that I’ll know what to do, but I don’t. I don’t know how to raise a child who can start fires with her mind. And if she can do this, what else can she do?”

I stared at her, suddenly realizing what an incredible challenge she was facing. How would she be able to discipline an immortal? And did Chamiya have enough Fae blood in her to actually balance out her powers? Or was she like her father? And speaking of the Autumn Lord, why wasn’t he taking an active part in Chamiya’s upbringing?