There was a huff, and then another voice spoke. "You never could resist causing a scene, could you, Carla?"
Harper peered over Carla's shoulder to see a small old woman in a gypsy dress. It was Nora, the grandmother of one of the Primes, Dario. Harper had only met her once before, when they learned that Nora had premonitions. To be specific, she knew and felt events that would soon occur.
It was through Nora that Harper and Knox had learned about the Four Horsemen. Nora hadn't seen Roan's face, but she'd known through her ability what his motivations were. She'd warned them that the person pulling Crow's strings was cold and power-hungry with a void that would always leave him unsatisfied with life.
Frowning at Carla in both disappointment and impatience, Nora added, "Do you not think you've done enough to this girl?"
Looking like she was sucking on a lemon, Carla said, "She killed -"
"A son you mistreated and controlled, from what I heard," Nora finished. "A son you didn't see as a person in his own right – he was only ever an extension of you. It was little wonder he grew to be greedy for power. He spent so many years under your rule that he needed the greatest power possible to feel in control. Or, at least, that is what everyone is speculating."
Cheeks reddening, Carla hissed, "He was not one of the Horsemen, if the Horsemen even exist."
"Oh, they exist. And he was one of them – never doubt it. The only person at fault for his death is Roan. He made his choices. They were bad choices that could only ever have resulted in his own demise."
Before Carla could say another word in her son's defense, Tanner forced her to step aside and said, "You've said your piece. Now it's over. Get the fuck out of our way."
Once Carla shuffled to the side, Nora gestured for Harper to move forward and then linked her arm through hers. Instead of escorting Harper to the bistro table, Nora headed straight out the door with Tanner close behind them.
Outside, Nora said, "There. Now take a breath."
Harper settled her hands on her hips as she inhaled deeply, urging her pissed-the-fuck-off demon to calm down. The entity despised Carla and always would.
Nora patted her back. "You were right to believe there's nothing you can say that will appease her. She'll never accept that Roan was virtually responsible for his own death."
"Yeah, I know," said Harper. "I can understand why she wouldn't want to acknowledge what he did."
"It doesn't make it okay that she just confronted you in there," Tanner clipped.
No, it didn't, which was why her demon wanted Harper to go back inside the coffeehouse and bitch slap her. Instead, Harper spoke to Nora. "I hope you're not here because you've had some kind of bad premonition."
The woman cackled, sounding just like Jolene. "No premonition. I heard you were attacked by hunters, so when I saw you inside the coffeehouse I took the opportunity to check that you're healed."
"I'm fine," Harper told her. "Pissed, of course, but otherwise okay."
Nora opened her mouth to speak again, but then the bell chimed as the coffeehouse door opened. The girls all filed out, carrying their mugs. Technically, they weren't supposed to take the mugs, but Harper doubted the baristas would give them a hard time about it as long as they returned them.
"You okay?" Raini asked.
Harper nodded. "It's not exactly the first time she saw fit to cause a scene."
Khloë sneered at Carla through the glass window. "It's what attention junkies do."
"Come on," began Devon, leading Khloë toward the studio. "Let's get inside or we'll be late opening up."
Nodding, Harper smiled at Nora. "It was good to see you. Tell Dario I said hi."
Nora patted her arm. "Will do. Take care of yourself, Harper." She waved at the others and then walked away.
Raini unlocked the studio door, and they all strode inside. "You sure you're okay?" she asked Harper.
"Fine." Harper sipped at her drink. "Not looking forward to telling Knox about it, though. He'll be pissed." And he'd no doubt point out that if she'd stayed home, she could have escaped the ugly encounter blah, blah, blah. He'd be wrong, though. Carla would have found another opportunity to confront her.
"You should tell him now before someone else does," Tanner advised. "What's that you're drinking?"
"Frothed vanilla milk, apparently."
Devon frowned. "Since when do you drink frothed vanilla milk?"
"Since the barista gave it to me to try." And since it eased a weird burn on her tongue. "It's good." Knox, you busy?