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"A bit, yeah," Nikki admitted. "Just moved to Des Moines. Work put us up in some apartments a few blocks over."
"They're gentrifying us now?" The woman huffed. "Of course they are. Next thing you know, we'll all be looking for new homes too."
"I don't know about that," Dahlia admitted. "We're just here on temporary contracts. I think the company found us the cheapest place they could, and some of our employees are from all over the world. We're a bit of a mixed bag, I guess you could say."
"And where'd they find you, blondie?" the waitress teased with a smile. "Georgia?"
"Denmark," Dahlia said, lifting a hand. "I've been in the U.S. a while, though."
"Ah..." The waitress suddenly seemed more receptive. "So, guess that means we're your neighborhood grill. What can I get you two?"
"Does this place have a name?" Dahlia asked.
"Ma's," the waitress explained. "Everyone around here knows it. Best fried chicken you've ever tasted. Some good barbecue too."
"Have a roast beef sandwich?" Dahlia asked.
"Sure do," the woman agreed. "And for you?" She turned to Nikki.
Nikki hummed as she thought. "Um, I'll try the fried chicken. One check, please."
"Sure thing. And to drink?"
Nikki and Dahlia shared a look. "Tea," Dahlia decided.
Nikki nodded in agreement, so the waitress left. The moment no one was close enough to listen in, Nikki leaned closer, nothing but honest curiosity on her face.
"Are you really from Denmark, Val?"
"No," Dahlia promised. "My homeland is now called Norway. I also prefer Dahlia. I'm not used to Val or Valerie yet. I just haven't figured out how to make that work."
"Say it's your middle name," Nikki told her. "Or a nickname. Or both!"
Dahlia nodded, deciding that was as easy as anything else. "So, where are you claiming to be from?"
Nikki smiled slyly. "The Caribbean. When asked, I tell most people I'm half Hispanic and half Black. I'm not, but the indigenous people I descended from were basically wiped out by Christopher Columbus and the sugar plantations."
"Gotta love progress," Dahlia joked dryly.
"Mhm," Nikki grumbled before jerking her chin to a group of guys in the corner. "So, plenty of sexy men in here..."
Dahlia felt her shoulders slump. "I'm looking for a different kind of meal."
"So long as you're looking for one," Nikki said.
Dahlia just sighed. "Sounds like Cain's worried about me."
"I am too," Nikki added. "You're how old? You made it through the Inquisition! I don't know what's dragging you down, but this? Having a safe place? It's a good thing. We're finally able to fight back, and with both you and Cain? We're unstoppable."
"It's not that easy," Dahlia said.
"It could be."
"No!" She slammed her hand down on the table. "Don't you get it? This is the Inquisition we're talking about. They killed my partner. They killed mygirlfriend,Nikki! I couldn't stop them before they put a stake through her. I tried. I used everything I had, and I was still unable to save her. If we do this, how many more of us will die?"
"Fewer than if we wait for the priests to find us," Nikki countered. "Besides, I thought you had a priest up your sleeve."
"Hunter," she corrected. "Same power, no Words."
