don’t speak the same English.”
“No, apizza be a New Haven tradition. Come hither, neophyte.” Jules grabbed my hand and led me to a nearby parlor. She ordered something called a “white clam pie,” and we sat down outside to test out the new jackets.
“Clams, Jules? I don’t know how they do things over on the Isles, but where I’m from, we don’t put clams on our pizza.” I crossed my arms in disgust. She had spent our last forty-five bucks on that abomination.
“Yea, ya probably settle for dirt and prickles on a slab of sandstone. Don’t be barkin’ at what ya haven’t bitten.”
The portly chef brought the steaming hot pie out himself. It smelled vaguely of heaven. “Jules, darling,” he said. “Haven’t seen you in months. We were worried you defected to Pepe’s!”
“Oi!” Jules looked suitably aghast. “I’d never, Sal! It’s the bloody workload. Haven’t had the time ta swing into town, I’m a’fraid.”
“Well study hard, dear—and you there,” he said, threatening me with his oversized spatula, “you make sure you take care of this one, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, awkwardly. “Best tutor I ever had.”
The chef winked at me as he shuffled back inside. When I went to ask Jules what that was all about, I found that she was already chomping down on her first slice. There was no hope of talking after that. Best cheese and crust I’d ever had. Ten minutes later, I came back up for air.
“Good call, Jules.”
“See, I told ya it was the best. Why ya ever doubt my wisdom baffles my—”
As Jules’s eyes widened, I already knew it was too late. I couldn’t sense anything dangerous with my Sight, but I was already kicking myself. There was a war on, people were dying left and right, and here we were goofing off in the middle of New Haven. Stars above, how reckless could we be? If Rei had seen what I was up to, she would have punched me in the gut again—and I would have deserved it. In the few seconds I had, I struggled to build up my will. I tried to work out the angles. How could I best shield Jules? Maybe I could tip over the table. That way I could shelter her from the first volley…My jaw tightened. Like a table would stop whatever was about to be thrown at us.
“Oh. My. Gods.” Jules stammered. “Is that, is that Rei ?”
Huh?
I eased the pent up mana back into the ground, leaving singed concrete behind. Satisfied I wasn’t going to blow up my new favorite pizza parlor, I turned to look over my shoulder. It was Rei. She was walking down the cat—sidewalk in five-inch black heels. Her long black dress clung tight enough to give just the right hints. A group of tourists decided they were better off safe rather than sorry. They held up their oversized cameras and fired off a few shots. Rei’s sunglasses slapped back the flashes, and she flicked her hair dismissively. The sidewalk devolved into slow-motion chaos. Folks just stopped what they were doing to stare. I shook my head. They should have been wondering why such a tall, thin girl could wear nothing more than a satin dress on such a cold autumn evening, but they were too busy going gaga. Rei appeared indifferent to it all. She checked her watch and gestured to the two men following her.
“She has an entourage ?” I asked. There had to be a dozen bags from all the places the wealthy went to incinerate money.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Jules muttered.
Taking note of us, Rei paused her procession and walked over. I did my best to keep my eyes from straying—but that black dress was like a handful of flares to the face. “Dieter. Druid,” she said, bowing slightly. “So this is where the two of you ran off to.”
“Out shopping I see,” Jules replied tersely. Her eyes were locked on the bag labeled “Prada”.
“Indeed. However, I fear the pickings were poor. I do find these boutiques lacking, but my request to travel to New York was denied.”
Did that mean Rei
“No, apizza be a New Haven tradition. Come hither, neophyte.” Jules grabbed my hand and led me to a nearby parlor. She ordered something called a “white clam pie,” and we sat down outside to test out the new jackets.
“Clams, Jules? I don’t know how they do things over on the Isles, but where I’m from, we don’t put clams on our pizza.” I crossed my arms in disgust. She had spent our last forty-five bucks on that abomination.
“Yea, ya probably settle for dirt and prickles on a slab of sandstone. Don’t be barkin’ at what ya haven’t bitten.”
The portly chef brought the steaming hot pie out himself. It smelled vaguely of heaven. “Jules, darling,” he said. “Haven’t seen you in months. We were worried you defected to Pepe’s!”
“Oi!” Jules looked suitably aghast. “I’d never, Sal! It’s the bloody workload. Haven’t had the time ta swing into town, I’m a’fraid.”
“Well study hard, dear—and you there,” he said, threatening me with his oversized spatula, “you make sure you take care of this one, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, awkwardly. “Best tutor I ever had.”
The chef winked at me as he shuffled back inside. When I went to ask Jules what that was all about, I found that she was already chomping down on her first slice. There was no hope of talking after that. Best cheese and crust I’d ever had. Ten minutes later, I came back up for air.
“Good call, Jules.”
“See, I told ya it was the best. Why ya ever doubt my wisdom baffles my—”
As Jules’s eyes widened, I already knew it was too late. I couldn’t sense anything dangerous with my Sight, but I was already kicking myself. There was a war on, people were dying left and right, and here we were goofing off in the middle of New Haven. Stars above, how reckless could we be? If Rei had seen what I was up to, she would have punched me in the gut again—and I would have deserved it. In the few seconds I had, I struggled to build up my will. I tried to work out the angles. How could I best shield Jules? Maybe I could tip over the table. That way I could shelter her from the first volley…My jaw tightened. Like a table would stop whatever was about to be thrown at us.
“Oh. My. Gods.” Jules stammered. “Is that, is that Rei ?”
Huh?
I eased the pent up mana back into the ground, leaving singed concrete behind. Satisfied I wasn’t going to blow up my new favorite pizza parlor, I turned to look over my shoulder. It was Rei. She was walking down the cat—sidewalk in five-inch black heels. Her long black dress clung tight enough to give just the right hints. A group of tourists decided they were better off safe rather than sorry. They held up their oversized cameras and fired off a few shots. Rei’s sunglasses slapped back the flashes, and she flicked her hair dismissively. The sidewalk devolved into slow-motion chaos. Folks just stopped what they were doing to stare. I shook my head. They should have been wondering why such a tall, thin girl could wear nothing more than a satin dress on such a cold autumn evening, but they were too busy going gaga. Rei appeared indifferent to it all. She checked her watch and gestured to the two men following her.
“She has an entourage ?” I asked. There had to be a dozen bags from all the places the wealthy went to incinerate money.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Jules muttered.
Taking note of us, Rei paused her procession and walked over. I did my best to keep my eyes from straying—but that black dress was like a handful of flares to the face. “Dieter. Druid,” she said, bowing slightly. “So this is where the two of you ran off to.”
“Out shopping I see,” Jules replied tersely. Her eyes were locked on the bag labeled “Prada”.
“Indeed. However, I fear the pickings were poor. I do find these boutiques lacking, but my request to travel to New York was denied.”
Did that mean Rei
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