Kindling Flames: Stolen Fire (The Ancient Fire Series Book 4) by Julie Wetzel Page B

when they live there.” Pulling her along, he urged her farther down the road. “Where we’re going is just over there.”
    Vicky looked back down Decatur Street. She felt a tug on the leash and looked to see Zak straining against the lead. He’d smelled something he wanted. Just past the trees on the right was a building with a green roof. She could just make out the many tables and familiar, green logo on the side of the building.
    “Really?” Vicky bounced as she realized where Darien was taking her for breakfast. She sped up and spun around to face Darien without stopping. Darien smiled as she took up his hands and continued their walk backwards. “We’re going there?” She swung his hands excitedly.
    “But, of course.” His thick, French accent made Vicky giggle. Twirling her back around to his side, Darien pulled her into the line of his body and kissed the curls at the side of her head lovingly.
    Vicky let out a soft hum of contentment. “I really do love it when you speak with an accent.” Snuggling closer into him, she felt him stiffen slightly as they walked on. Peeking up, she saw surprise on his face. “You didn’t realize you were speaking with a French accent, did you?”
    Darien chuckled a little and relaxed. “No, ma chérie.” He shook his head but didn’t lose the foreign inflection in his voice.
    Vicky giggled again and leaned into his side.
    Café Du Monde was much larger than Vicky had thought. She’d expected a place that served mainly donuts and coffee to be rather small, no matter how famous they were. The recognizable green-and-white striped awning only covered a small portion of the seating patio. Just outside the fenced-in area, a man sat, playing soft jazz on a saxophone, the white of his suit shone brightly against his dark skin.
    Pulling out a bill from his pocket, Darien dropped it in the man’s case as they passed. He led Vicky through the archway and into the end of a long building that housed the restaurant. There was already quite a crowd. “Come; let us find a table before le petit horreur eats the place.”
    Vicky looked down to find Zak trying to get to a chunk of beignet someone had dropped. She loosened his lead a little so he could reach it.
    Darien escorted her under the awning to an empty table near one of the fences. “I’ll be right back,” he reassured her and headed into the main part of the building.
    Vicky settled into the padded chair and studied the café. The open floor plan and high ceiling gave the building an airy quality, while the wooden ceiling warmed it. Fans hung overhead, ready to move around the air when the temperature climbed in the summer. The gentle murmur of the crowd soothed her as the delicate voice of the saxophone wafted in from the street. Even though it was busy, there was no hustle or bustle like the coffee shops back home. No one was rushed or hurried here. She was starting to understand why they called this place ‘The Big Easy’.
    The speed in which Darien returned with a tray full of food surprised Vicky. She was sure he hadn’t been gone long enough to get the delicious-looking treats. Time didn’t seem to run the same way in this place, or it felt that way. She sat back so Darien could place a cup of coffee on a saucer in front of her. Someone had filled it so full that the coffee sloshed over the sides of the cup even though he tried to be careful with it.
    After unloading several plates of beignets heaping with powdered sugar and a bottle of milk, Darien claimed his own overflowing cup and dropped the tray on the empty table nearby. Settling into the chair next to Vicky, he shifted the food around, dividing it out.
    “Thank you,” Vicky said as she turned the very full cup around on the saucer. She leaned forwards and sipped some of the hot liquid. The chickaree coffee laced with milk was both very hot and slightly bitter. Picking up her spoon, she looked around for the sugar. Finding their container was empty, she