Page 20 of Cinder's Trial

While the workers gave us curious glances, no one impeded our path across to the door marked Exit. We emerged onto a sidewalk, and Killian gave me an exaggerated bow.

“If my lady would be so kind as to show the way…”

With Levi guarding our rear, I led us to the diner, which proved to be surprisingly empty, until I realized Gerome sulked in a corner. Mostly likely he’d thrown money at the patrons before tossing them out.

“I like to people-watch.” Killian’s claim led to us sitting in a booth with a window. Levi remained standing by the long Formica counter, glowering.

“It’s kind of exposed. Aren’t you afraid of being recognized?” I asked, grabbing the plastic-coated menu.

“Let’s be honest. Would anyone expect me to be here, dressed like this?” He indicated with a wave of his hands.

“Good point. However, if you’re wrong, this won’t be easy to extricate ourselves from.” What could I say? Levi’s caution might have rubbed off a bit on me.

“We’ll be fine. Food and then to work. Your boss, Hilda, says you can run a background check on the guest list so we can weed out some of the troublemakers ahead of time. Maybe also pull any info you can on women affected by the Ash Girl curse, since they seem to be getting invitations that we didn’t send.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just ban all the potential Cinderellas?” I asked.

“I would have, but Mum insisted some attend because, as she claims”—he raised his fingers to quote—“I need grandbabies, and I won’t have them be bastards.”

My lips quirked. “And she’s okay with the curse choosing your bride?”

He shrugged. “I mean they supposedly lived happily ever after.”

“Wait, I thought you were against getting married, though.”

“I am. But who knows? Maybe I’ll come face to face with someone and be like, bam, she’s the one.”

“You believe in love at first sight?”

“First sight, email, phone call, tackle. You never know when it will happen.” Killian rolled his shoulders.

“Shall we order? I am famished.” My light breakfast hadn’t stood the test of time, and the smell of deep-fried breakfast potatoes had me salivating.

Killian ordered the greasiest and unhealthiest stuff on the menu. Bacon, sausages, two waffles with whipped cream and strawberries, a side of potatoes.

I had the potatoes smothered in hollandaise with chunks of bacon and sausage. To those surprised I ate meat, being friends with nature didn’t make me a vegan. Most of my friends were carnivores, and through them, I understood the cycle of life. Eat or be eaten. It was the way.

We stuffed ourselves. Well, the guys did. I managed about half and then carried my plate over to Levi and dropped it without a word, although he did quirk his lips. No surprise, he polished off the rest.

As I finished my coffee, the waitress, a sturdy gal of later years, emerged carrying a tray and on it a massive pie. And I mean huge. It took up almost the entire surface of our table.

When she set it down with a heavy thump in front of us, Killian waved her off. “No thanks. We are quite stuffed.”

“But it’s a pie fit for a king,” the waitress exclaimed.

“I’m not a king,” he stated flatly, starting to rise, but me, I had my gaze glued to the heaving crust.

“Um, what’s in the pie?” I asked as the surface began to crack.

“Step back!” Levi barked, yanking Killian away from the booth, but I had the waitress blocking me, so when the pastry exploded, the wings of the black birds baked in the pie buffeted me.

I threw my arms over my head, trying to protect my face, but I didn’t have to worry because a familiar chest once more cradled me.

By the time the commotion died down, the waitress was in hysterics, probably because Gerome had a gun pointed at her while asking where she’d gotten the pie. Killian sat on a stool, eating a cookie, calm as could be. Levi glowered—no real surprise—and I started to laugh.

The big man glared and groused, “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Considering there’s a verse to the Sing a Song of Sixpence nursery rhyme that talks about someone losing their nose, this could have been much worse.”

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