had a chance to coordinate our schedules since I arrived.”
“Oh. I’m Letty.” Her hand fluttered about her face and she increased the wattage of her smile. “I imagine you’re excited to be back with them. Amelie is more than likely at work which means Fleur will be at school this time of day.”
Before he could ask how to find either location, she started talking again. Sulen debated if this would be listed as a con on his report to Garik. The assassin would no doubt find the inquisitiveness of neighboring residents intrusive, whereas Saedra would probably think it was wonderful.
“Learning academy that way.” Letty pointed to the left. Then she pointed in the direction to the right. “Garden center is that way.”
Sulen nodded his thanks, already heading toward the school. As he made his way to the building with children playing outside in a fenced area with colorful climbing structures, he was unsure why he felt compelled to seek out the daughter before his confrontation with the mother.
His instincts urged him to resolve this matter as soon as possible and be on his way. Yet here he was ten minutes later, talking to a tiny dynamo with what he had to admit was a pretty endearing smile as she rocked in place, side to side and chatted about things he barely understood in her childish voice.
“And then, and then, Kyree came over and tried to take her snack but Serene’s a r-rep-rep-itilan like her mommy and so she lick-ted her whole snack right up with her looong tongue before he got it.”
Apparently, this event was the highlight of her day and she placed a hand on her forehead as she let out a belly laugh that had Sulen’s heart shifting in his chest.
Just when she was about to launch into what he was sure would be another riveting tale, a lady with graying hair came rushing over. Sulen leaned back on his heels and cocked his head to the side at her approach. It took long enough. Dissatisfaction rolled through him at what he considered a serious lack in the security of this place.
“Sir, you need to leave. Strangers are not allowed to talk to the children.”
“Him not a stranger, Madame Tessa. This my daddy,” Fleur announced in an offended tone. Her eyes blazed with tiny sparks as she’d propped thumb sized fists on her hips. The pose thrust the star on her shirt forward.
Sulen had to bite his inner cheek at the comment that clearly flustered Madame Tessa.
“Oh. Well. Well, then.” She studied his long leather coat, his leather pants and black tee shirt. Sulen was hardly dressed in what she probably expected from a mild-mannered father. “Sorry. We had an issue recently with a stranger talking to Fleur and we’re all a little protective of her and the other children now. My name’s Tessa Oblong, the headmistress here. The children call me Madame Tessa.”
She extended her hand over the miniscule waist high barrier Sulen could jump over without straining a muscle. He wasn’t sure how it was supposed to be a deterrent. So far from a security standpoint, he wasn’t overly impressed.
Seeing her hand hanging in the air, he reluctantly shook it. “Sulen Czen.”
When their hands separated, she whipped out a small digital device from her skirt pocket and tapped away. After scrolling with a swipe of her fingers, she looked up and smiled. “Would you like to come in and have a look around?”
If there was a danger to Fleur, why would she invite him in without proof or confirming with the parent she did know? Sulen was further disgusted on the little girl’s behalf.
Amelie probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if he proved how easy it would be to enter the school without consent, take the children inside hostage and bar the staff from their own facility.
The headmistress must have noticed his look. “We have your name and information listed on file as Fleur’s father.”
That gave Sulen a jolt. Before he could deny any relation, the little girl stuck her small hand through the grates of the fence and looped her fingers about his wrist. “Please, Daddy? I drawed pictures you can look at.”
She fluttered her lashes at him and her eyes held a pleading cast. There must be a class that started at an early age in the art of feminine wiles. Resistance wasn’t an option.
“Of course.” He propped a hand on the top of the fence and leaped across. When he landed, both stared