Page 27 of Rise of the Melody
“That would be nice,” Aunt Lorna said. “We’ll keep an eye out for a bike.”
We’ll?I pressed my lips to hold back a grin. Look at them, being all couple-y.
In town, Ron drove slowly past the grassy knoll where the games had been and parked in front of a row of shops. I hadn’t really had a chance to see the Main Street area yesterday because it had been too packed to explore. I didn’t throw around the word “cute” very often, but gods this place was freaking cute. Main Street butted up against the park we’d been at yesterday with the gazebo. The street slanted downward toward the sea, lined with shops and restaurants, and at the bottom of the hill was the water with a marina.
Ron was able to parallel park easily in front of an ice-cream shop that sold a blueberry sour cream flavor. Sounded weird, but I’d try it. Good thing I liked blueberries because every window had items made with Maine wild blueberries—cookies, jams, candies, even coffees and teas.
I looked at CooShee before we got out of the car. I had no idea if he could understand me, but here I went. “You know you can’t go in there and can’t walk around here without a leash. People won’t understand, so you gotta stay here.” His eyes bore into mine with annoyance. “I know you’re a respectable, powerful harbinger of death,” I told him. “And these human rules are beneath you. But we have to keep you a secret. Like me. I know it sucks.” He let out a groaning sigh as he lay down on the seat.
“I’ll roll down all the windows,” Ron said, doing just that. “It’s a beautiful day. And we’ll bring back a pup cup.”
CooShee’s ears went up with interest, making us all laugh as we climbed out.
We walked into French Quarter Roast, passing people sitting at little tables outside with wiener dogs on leashes. I glanced back at the car to see if the hound was eyeing them as snacks, but CooShee was still lying down. He was usually unfazed by other dogs, but you never knew.
Inside was dim and cozy with jazz music playing overhead and gaslit sconces on the walls. It was New Orleans themed with candy skulls, feathered masks, and Mardi gras colors of yellows, purples, and greens everywhere. Scents of perk coffee and beignets engulfed us like a warm cloud. An espresso machinehissed, and voices of laughter rang out from a table in the back corner. It reminded me of the city for a moment.
We approached the counter and Ron motioned for me to go first. The cashier was an adorable, freckled redhead with a thick braid over her shoulder and a nose ring stud. I felt a low hum of power come off her and looked at the name-tag on her blue apron. Clare. This was probably the girl who was supposed to have been Teague’s partner in the games.
“Oh, hey,” I said. “I’m Letty.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, my God! Are you the new nix?” When I nodded, she went up on her tiptoes and yelled, “Guys! She’s here!”
We peered over to the corner where four people sat, their heads turning to us. Two beautiful girls sat in front, hip-to-hip. I immediately recognized the two boys in the back. Namely the dimpled one who was smiling huge and causing a flutter in my tummy. Teague and Chrystamos both raised their arms in a wave, calling me over.
“Let her order really quick,” Ron told them with a chuckle.
“Yes, Sheriff!” Teague saluted. I felt a rush of relief that he seemed happy to see me, even after I’d turned down giving him my number.
“We should go,” Aunt Lorna whispered, suddenly agitated.
I grabbed her hand. “Please, no. It will be okay. I promise. I’ll keep my distance from the mayor.”
“It’s a small town,” she whispered. “He’ll find out you were with his nephew.”
I felt a burst of anger toward the mayor. “He can’t keep me from making friends. That’s not fair. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
She shook her head as if exasperated by me.
I scooted past her and ordered an iced chai with coconut milk and Clare beamed at me. She said, “I’ll come over as soon as I get a free sec.”
“Sounds good,” I told her, excited. Aunt Lorna ordered a breakfast tea with milk and Ron got a giant black dark roast with a shot of espresso in it.
“Wow, that order will punch you in the face,” I said, making him laugh.
“Shot in the dark,” he said. “Keeps me on my toes.”
“We’re not staying long,” Aunt Lorna told us. “Just a few minutes. I mean it.”
“Okay,” I hissed like a feral cat being shooed off a ledge.
“Well, wait just a minute,” Ron told us, then turned his attention to the barista, Clare. “Is your boss around?”
“Yeah, she’s in the back making another batch of scones, sir.”
“Send her out if you don’t mind.”
He and Aunt Lorna shared a look, and then a woman with long, black braids came out, wiping her hands on a towel. When she and Aunt Lorna saw each other, they both went very still, eyes widening.
