We weren’t allowed to go inside yet though. Several of our guards held their hands out in a halting motion while two headed for the front door to ensure it was safe.
As they reached the door, it swung open, and a furious middle-aged man in a sunflower apron marched out. The guards all reached for their guns, on high alert. Ethan pushed me behind his wide frame as Kyo did the same to Dot.
I couldn’t see what threat this man with narrow shoulders and more salt than pepper in his hair could pose. But then, the short young woman who’d tried to kill me hadn’t exactly looked like a crazed murderer either. Considering what happened with Zara, I was the worst judge of who could and couldn’t be trusted.
“Oh no you don’t!” He wagged a finger in our direction, not even slightly intimidated by all the heavily armed men and women giving him warning looks.
One of our guards, his voice calm, tried to keep him back with an extended arm. “Sir, you need to step—”
“This is my café, and I’ll do whatever the hell I want. You haven’t taken that right from me yet, so I’m exercising it. And you’re not welcome here.”
“Excuse me?” Kyo bristled.
“I may be just a Dime, but I still have rights. This is my establishment, my home, and I refuse to allow guns inside. I refuse to allow people like you . . .” he sputtered, obviously frustrated. “Variant abilities may as well be weapons. I want my patrons to feel safe. I want to feel safe. Leave! You are not welcome here.”
For a moment, no one said anything. The man crossed his arms and planted his feet wide, guarding the door with nothing more than a furious glare and sheer determination.
Ethan sighed, his big chest puffing out, and gave me a sad, worried look over his shoulder.
I reached out and took Dot’s hand. Her eyes met mine.
“Let’s just go,” I whispered, and she nodded. It wasn’t worth it. We didn’t want to make anyone feel more unsafe than they already did. I knew what that felt like, and I refused to add to it.
Kyo was the most frustrated. “It’s not right. This is discrimination. He can’t just . . .”
Dot took his arm and pulled him along, doing her best to soothe him as our entourage closed in tighter.
We ended up in a diner a few streets over, the four of us seated in a booth. Our protectors spread out, some sitting close by, some posted at the exits.
It was a somber lunch. The food was mediocre; even Ethan didn’t finish his BLT. They didn’t have an espresso machine, so I went without coffee. I really needed it too, judging by the building headache behind my eyes.
After a long, heavy silence, Dot pushed her plate away. “Everyone is acting weird and doing strange things, and it’s scaring me.”
Kyo rubbed her back. “Everyone is scared. That’s why they’re acting weird. I’ve got your back.”
“I know you do, but that’s not really what I mean. I’m scared for my immediate safety, yes. It’s hard not to be, considering . . .” She looked at me, her perfect brows pulling together.
“Considering the constant attempts on people’s lives?” I deadpanned.
“Yeah. But when I say I’m scared, I mean in a bigger sense. I’m scared about what the world is turning into. I’m scared about what all this fear will lead to. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being followed around by an entire team of agents while I get kicked out of my favorite restaurants and shops.”
“We got turned away from a lingerie boutique earlier today as well,” Kyo explained. “The owner there wasn’t quite as dramatic as the guy at the café, but she made herself clear. Variants aren’t welcome.”
I sighed. “I hate this. And I can see both sides. I mean, I was raised human, never believed there was anything special about me whatsoever. You do kind of feel like Variants get privileges, advantages that we don’t. It’s worse in some parts of the world, but I can see how it breeds resentment. You fuel that resentment with fear—suggest that now, not only do human kids have less access to the opportunities Variant kids have, but their lives are in danger too? I wouldn’t want my family anywhere around us either.”
“But we’re not like that!” Dot sounded equally pleading and outraged. “Most Variants are normal,