Page 45 of Iris
Unlike the first time she’d waltzed in here wearing a fancy dress, now she looks more like a fresh-faced punk princess. She’s in a short pinafore style skirt, big boots, thick tights, and a fitted vest over a white shirt.
If she’s going for “naughty schoolgirl who might stab you” vibe, she’s spot on.
I’m so stunned that it takes me a moment to notice the package in her hands, or the redheaded girl who comes in behind her.
They’ve got to be friends. The same virginal nervous energy pops and sparks off the redhead. She’s…interesting, too. I’m not sure what she is. She doesn’t have any scent at all, but the weird scent-canceling void that comes with blockers isn’t there either. Betas normally have overly sweet smells, like cakes or cotton candy. Something that makes your teeth hurt just by being near them. Deltas are artificial or chemical with their scents. Machinegrease, gasoline, that kind of stuff. But the redhead is just…nothing.
How odd.
Iris hasn’t moved, either. Her green eyes are on me, drinking me in, licking at my skin. I can feel her touching me like her tongue is on me, and I instantly think I need a cold shower.
But then she turns away from me and tugs her friend to the bar. They both pull up a stool and start chatting with Freya.
“Daddy—” I look down and my little bug is holding on to my pantleg. She spots Iris in that next second and squeals. “Icy!”
Iris’s head whips around, and she grins. “Emmie! Just the space explorer pirate princess I wanted to see.” She holds out the package to her. “Here, this is for you.”
Emmie forgets whatever passes as manners for her and snatches it. The paper rips easily, and she squeals again. “Candy. Daddy? Icy got me the bestest candy ever!”
Just from the fancy packaging and artisan style chocolates inside, I bet they cost a small fortune.
“I hope you like them,” Iris says. “I tried to get a little of everything. These ones my little sister, Rue, loves.”
Emmie nods enthusiastically. “I loves them! Yummy!”
“There’s one rule with these, though.” Iris leans in close and holds her hand to her mouth, like she’s about to reveal a big secret. “You can only eat these at night, right before bed. They help keep the bad dreams away.”
Emmie’s eyes light up. “Oooo, magic candy!” Opening the top, she pulls out one of the chocolates and pops it in her mouth before I can say no. As she chews, she starts to jump up and down. “Yum, yum, yum! No more bad dreams!”
I glare at Iris. Candy you can only have at night? She clearly did that one on purpose, just to make bedtime harder for me. And the smirk on her face when she gets back on her stool says that’s exactly right and she’s proud of it.
Well played.
Freya glances at the redhead, at Iris, and then at me, and I read her like I can Xavier.
I just nod.
There’s no way for sure to know if they’re of drinking age without ID, but if Iris is participating in the Season, she must be. Plus, I’m here.
“Daay…I wov thith.”
I stare at my kid, at her sudden loss of language skills, but then I see the bulges in both her cheeks.
“You look like a chipmunk,” I say.
Emmie sniffs at me and drags Delores to Iris to hug her leg. “Thank you, Icy!”
“Hey, no problem. I had to bring Freya’s things back anyway, so I had to get you a little something.”
I’m about to say something when Emmie rushes to me, grabs my hand, and spits the candy into it. She pushes my fingers closed around them and whispers, “Watch them, Daddy.” She’s about to twirl off, but stops dead, right in front of Iris’s friend.
Eyes wide, she stares in wonder at her vibrant red hair.
“Are you a magical witch? A pretty magic witch? I want to be one when I grow up.” Then Emmie rises on her tiptoes and whispers loudly, “Your hair is red.”
“Emmie!” I scold.
“Yes,” the girl says without hesitation, “it is.”
