Page 146 of Fallen Court

None of it made sense.

“Where are we?” I asked, peering out the Porsche’s window as we pulled up to an empty spot on the street.

“Best Doberge cake in town,” she promised as she escorted me inside, lowering her voice to add, “and the owner is a vampire so we can talk freely.”

I doubted her on both counts.

But The Fontaine was empty. The hostess’s head was bent to a black ledger, poring over the evening’s reservations. “We’re closed. Dinner service doesn’t start for an hour.”

Relief flooded through me. I wanted to go home and crawl into bed and hope I woke up to discover this was all a dream. I nudged Ciara, my eyes already straying toward the door.

“What about the bar?” Ciara asked her. “My money is good, I swear.”

The woman startled, slamming the book shut. She dashed from behind the stand and threw her arms around my friend. “The bar is always open to you.”

“Even these days?” Ciara drew back, giving me a better glimpse of the woman. “Listen, I’m sorry about Étienne.”

I blinked, realizing I’d met her before. Not some hostess. The owner. Baptiste. The vampire who owned La Porte.

Lach’s ex-girlfriend.

Because today couldn’t get any weirder.

“It’s still surreal.” Baptiste forced a smile, noticing me for the first time. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“Cate,” I reminded her.

Ciara bumped a hip against mine. “Lach’s fiancée.” She grabbed my hand and held out my engagement ring for the vampire’s inspection.

And today could get weirder.

But Baptiste let out a sharp whistle. “Someone finally landed the whale. I never thought I would see the day when that man settled down.” She grabbed a few menus and nodded toward the dining room. “We can open early for friends.”

“That’s not necessary,” I started.

But she shook her head. “You deserve a drink if you’re going to marry him.” She winked at me. “We used to date, you know?”

“She knows,” Ciara teased. Her eyes rounded, and she grabbed my shoulder. “Oh gods, I should have taken you somewhere else.”

“Why?” Baptiste asked as she led us to a booth tucked into the corner. “Because of Lachlan and me? We were old news eons ago.” Her eyes went distant like she was searching through all those decades of memories. “I think I was over him before we broke up. Honestly, I don’t even remember.”

“Hush!” Ciara smacked her shoulder playfully as we slid into the seats. “Don’t scare her away.”

A feline smile slid onto her lips. “I would never.” She passed each of us a menu in turn. “Since we’re celebrating, I’ll open the kitchen early, too.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said quickly.

“Nonsense. It’s all on the house today.” Baptiste waved our attention toward the menu before disappearing into the back.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to her much on Halloween, when she had been busy playing hostess. It was good to see she wasn’t holding a grudge, especially with so much drama between the covens.

“She’s…nice.” I breathed a sigh of relief as we settled into the booth, its high-backed velvet seating providing a discreet place for us to talk.

“Oh, she hates you,” Ciara said casually. She opened her menu but didn’t look at it. She just kept staring at me as though she could see past the glamour on me that she had put back in place in Blanche’s restroom.

“Hates?” I choked out. She had acted perfectly pleasant. “So, she isn’t over him?”

Ciara snorted. “No, that much is true. It’s just a vibe I get. Vampires tend to look at humans as snacks. I mean, not that you’re a… But with the glamour…” Her cheeks reddened as she reached for the wine list. “White or red?”