Badlands: The Lion’s Den(18)
The tables had doily tablecloths, and were decorated with potted plants and candles. A waitress quickly brought them coffee and menus, and Finn ordered hamburgers for them both.
“Oh, coffee, how I love thee,” Flora said to her coffee cup, and then took a long sip. She let out a low purr of satisfaction. “Maxwell House. My favorite.”
“Should I leave you and Maxwell alone?” Finn said with a grin. “Unless you want me to just stay here and watch. Some girls like that kind of thing.”
She took another sip and set the cup down. “You’re good. You just need to understand that Maxwell has been bringing deep, dark satisfaction to my mornings for many years now, and nobody will ever come between us.”
“Wow. I never thought I’d be jealous of a coffee cup.” He pretended to look hurt.
She leaned back in her chair and looked at the merchants sweeping the sidewalks in front of their shops and the customers walking out of the grocery store next door with armloads of bags.
“Wow, this almost feels normal,” Flora mused, dipping a French fry into a small pool of ketchup. “Except for the constant fear of death…and the lack of any cubs. No cubs anywhere. I just realized that.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad here,” Finn said. “We have enough muscle patrolling the streets to keep the murder rate relatively low, for everyone who pays their protection money, anyway.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Of course. Murder’s bad for business. Dead customers can’t shop at our stores or pay protection money.”
They fell silent, and she chewed her roast beef and watched the street for anything or anyone who might want to kill her. She did feel safer with Finn there, but she had a feeling it was a bad idea to relax too much in Darwin. Ever.
She realized that he was staring at her quizzically.
“No, I’m not going to tell you why I came to the Badlands,” she said.
“Suit yourself, Woman of Mystery.”
“I like that.” She nodded approvingly. “Makes me sound sexy, like some kind of spy or something.”
“You are sexy. Spy or not.” He stared into her eyes, and desire flooded her body. “You’d be just as sexy if you told me what you’re running from. Even sexier, really, if that’s possible.”
“Nice try,” Flora said. “You get an A-plus in the flirting department. Not to change the subject, but why are there no cubs here?”
“You are changing the subject,” Finn said. “Considerably.”
“So are you. Seriously, why no kids? Do you guys eat your young or something?”
Finn choked with laughter, and she looked down at her hamburger suspiciously, then back up at him. She set the burger down and pushed it away. “You don’t, do you? Say something. You’re freaking me out.”
“No, you crazy feline, we do not eat children. That burger came from a cow. This just isn’t a place for families. Nobody who wanted children would come here. If someone decides they want a family, they leave. Why? You have kids? Thinking of settling down here?”
She looked at him, startled. “Me? Kids? If I had cubs, they would be with me. No. I’m not having any kids.”
She saw Finn’s forehead wrinkle at the way she said it, and regretted that she’d said anything at all. It wasn’t that she couldn’t have children; it was that, given the risk, she wouldn’t have them. Not when she knew they’d be taken from her and used for heaven knew what.
“So there are literally no children anywhere in the Badlands?” she said.
“No, that’s just in Darwin. You’ve landed smack in the middle of outlaw central here. There’s a city called Cottonwood, about a hundred miles from here. It’s where families go. It’s ruled by a guy they call the Chief. He keeps things pretty law-and-order there. And scattered around the state are more tribes and packs and prides than you can count, and they all carve out their own territories and have their own rules. That’s why you wouldn’t want to travel here without an experienced guide.” He looked contemplative. “And a death-wish.”
Cottonwood. That sounded like a better bet for Madison and her friends. Did they know about it? They must, Flora thought. Maybe they hadn’t gone there because it was too dangerous to travel?
The wind extinguished the candle on their table, and Flora scowled at the wick and concentrated. Burn, she thought.
Nothing.
She glared at it, her brows drawing together.
Could the scientists have been wrong?
“Did that candle do something to piss you off?” Finn asked, and she looked up, startled. “Forget to say ‘excuse me’ after it burped or something?”