The Last Warrior (Shifters Unbound #13) - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,28

talk.”

“I’ll relay your message,” Ben said.

“Now, I don’t usually ask for details—don’t need to—but who are you? What are you?”

Ben shrugged. “Let’s just say we’re not from around here.”

“That’s for sure. You liking New Orleans?” Lily turned her interest to Rhianne.

“So far. I have discovered I enjoy shrimp.”

“Wish I could. I’m allergic. Can you imagine living in New Orleans and being allergic to shellfish? It sucks. But I know a great bakery just around the block—bread and pastry to die for. The guy who runs it is Honduran and one hell of a baker.” Her dire predictions had vanished on the wind.

“If we’re in so much danger, we’d better skip the bakery,” Ben said.

Lily shook her head. “You’re not in danger today. What I’m seeing is to come. Might as well enjoy yourself now. So much to do in New Orleans.”

“This is what I mean about being specific,” Ben said. “When will all this shit go down? I’d like to be prepared.”

“I’d have to do more research. What I see for you today is …” Her eyes lost focus, then her smile returned. “Fun stuff. Enjoy yourselves.”

“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die?” Ben quoted.

“Something like that. Be home by midnight so you don’t turn into a pumpkin.” Lily faltered. “Wow, I hope that doesn’t happen for real. Now, that’s twenty-five dollars for the reading. I took five dollars off because we never got around to the cards.” To Ben’s frown, Lily shrugged. “If riches were in my near future, I wouldn’t worry about it, but they’re not. A psychic’s got to make a living.”

Rhianne followed Ben, who carried the bags of the things they purchased, into the sunny street. Her heart thumped in apprehension, and she couldn’t help scanning the road for danger.

“Should we go back to the house?” she asked.

“You heard what Lily said,” Ben answered easily. “Today is free and clear, and she sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. I say we forget our problems for now and have some fun.”

“But …” Rhianne drew closer to him. “She’s only a human. How can you be certain?”

“I can’t. But hell, I’ve been facing danger for centuries. I know that when there’s a window to party in, you do it.”

Rhianne wondered how anyone partied in a window without falling out of it, but she hurried her steps to keep up with him.

“I have to tell you something.” Rhianne’s braid slapped her back as she jogged, her new shoes clicking on the pavement. “When Tiger took me aside to speak to me, he told me I should look after you. As though he also knows danger is coming.”

Ben halted, bags swinging. Rhianne bounced into him then planted her feet to stay upright.

“Tiger said that? Shit.” Ben gazed pensively across the street, studying a small park encircled by railings. “Tiger’s another person who can’t be specific. He senses things and gives you cryptic-ass warnings.” Ben sighed. “But he’s never wrong.”

“What should we do?”

“Right now?” Ben flashed her a smile. “We keep on having a good time.”

Rhianne wanted to protest, but Ben strode swiftly away, and Rhianne quickened her steps to join him.

She saw the wisdom in this approach of enjoying themselves while they had the chance once he’d swept her across the street, through the park, and to the bakery Lily had mentioned. The warm smell of baking bread, chocolate, and sugar floated out from the open door, inviting them inside.

The shop was narrow and tiny, with glass cases filled with cakes, sweet biscuits, and pastries, many of which Rhianne couldn’t identify. She saw beignets similar to those they’d had at the restaurant and many loaves of round, crusty breads.

There was also a line of people, several of them chatting as though they were old friends, but as Rhianne listened to their conversations, she realized they didn’t know each other at all. Strangers were laughing and talking, asking questions, answering without reserve. Such a contrast to the Tuil Erdannan society, where few trusted anyone else, and definitely no one spoke with casual friendliness to strangers.

When it was their turn, Ben ordered what he called cookies and some of the beignets, paying again with his plastic card. He led Rhianne out of the shop to a table on the sidewalk, plunking everything down before he sat.

“We need to eat these right away,” he said, pulling out the beignets. “They’ll get soggy if we wait.”

He’d purchased a dozen. Rhianne ate two, still full from their luncheon, and Ben downed