Chapter 7: The Date

"I'm so sorry about the mix-up, Sister Louise," the check-in clerk at Chicago's O'Hare International said, disbelief tinging her voice whenever she said "sister". The clerk, Nancy, still didn't quite believe I was a nun. I couldn't blame her since I was dressed in a tight, cobalt blue dress that barely covered my ass and had a deep, plunging neckline. I was wearing stiletto hills that made my ass nice and perky, and thigh high, black stockings held up by garters that peeked out beneath my skirt. My gold crucifix was nestled between the exposed slopes of my breasts.

For the last thirty years, I have been Sister Louise Afra, of the Order of the Sisters of of Mary Magdalene, dedicated to the fight against the Forces of Darkness. To aid us in our mission, certain gifts had been bestowed upon Sisters and I by the Highest, through his Agent, the Archangel Gabriel. One of those gifts was youthful beauty. I was fifty-one, but still had the perky breasts, smooth skin, fresh face, and tight ass of an eighteen year old. I was gifted with Sight, allowing me to see the mark of Evil on people and the Providence of God would guide me in my mission. So long as I had faith, chance and coincidence would lead me unerringly to my goal.

My mission, and the purpose of my Order, was to exorcise Warlocks and free their Thralls. Warlocks were the misguided men and women who sold their souls to the Devil in exchange for three wishes. Depending on their wishes, a lot of damage could be done. Most Warlocks, particularly males, made some request that allowed them to dominate others and make them their Thralls, usually to fulfill some pathetic, sexual desire. The only way to stop a Warlock, short of killing him, was to exorcise him. And that was what the dress, and the other skimpy clothing in my suitcase, were for. To exorcise a Warlock, I had to fuck him, or her, and when they orgasmed, I would rob them of their powers. Seduction was one of the many tools we nuns used.

Of course, fucking a man out of wedlock or engaging in lesbian sex were mortal sins. While I could go to confession after my mission was done and gain absolution, it was far simpler for my Order to receive a Papal Indulgence. So, after the Ecstasy came upon me two hours ago, sending me on my mission, a Papal Indulgence arrived by fax, signed by the Pope himself. I was forgiven, in advance, for all my sins I would commit until my mission was done.

And I planned to sin a lot!

It was one of the perks of fighting evil. So, after the Ecstasy passed, I packed my bags in a hurry, excited fight some evil, and get laid. Suitcases in hand, I walked out of the small, caretakers house at St. Thomas and found a cab idling on the street. Some would call that lucky, but I had faith that Providence was at work. Until my Mission was complete, the Lord would guide me to those who would help me until I was ready to face the Warlock. When I arrived at O'Hare, I still had no idea where I was going. I just had faith that if I walked up to the check-in counter, God would provide.

"Well, here's your tickets, Sister," Nancy said and I smiled warmly at her, stroking her hand gently as she handed me my boarding pass. She jerked her hands back and gave me a weird look. She probably not used to a woman, let alone a nun, flirting with her. "Sorry for the system error," Nancy said, standoffish.

I sighed, glancing at the tickets, I had an hour kill before my flight and spending that time with Nancy, maybe in a cozy bathroom stall, would have been nice. After I had spent three years in a female Warlock's harem thirty years ago, I had grown fond of women. The many different shapes their breasts could take, or the curves of her hips and ass, and all the different shapes and sizes a woman's labia could form. I licked my lips, thinking of the varied musk a woman exudes when she's aroused. I was getting wet just thinking about it.

I looked at my tickets to see where I was headed. I had a non-stop flight to Sea-Tac International Airport, departing in forty-minutes and scheduled to land in Seattle at 12:20 am, local time. I tried to do math in my head and thought it was almost a four and a half hour flight.

Sea-Tac, huh. I smiled, it had been twelve years since I had been to Washington State on a mission. I had stopped this Warlock who thought he was a rock-and-roller, using his power to convince people how amazing he sounded on guitar and recruiting about a dozen women to his harem. I had exorcised him and rescued the women. I recruited one of the women to the order. I started reminiscing about Sister Theodora Mariam as I queued through the TSA screening.

Sister Theodora had been a wreck after being freed. The Warlock had made her divorce the husband she loved and abandon her three daughters. She required a lot of consoling afterwords. We had spent two wonderful weeks on the California coast, making love on the beach, or anywhere else we could get our hands on each other, before she took her vows and my Papal Indulgence expired.

When I boarded my flight, I was one of only three people in First Class, the other two being frazzled business men who quickly fell asleep after take off. The First Class stewardess was a dusky beauty named Sarai, who wore a white, long sleeved shirt and navy blue vest that her tits nicely filled out. A navy blue pencil skirt clung tightly to her hips and legs. Her face had an exotic beauty to it and her accent was musical. When she handed me my champagne, her finger's lingered a moment on my wrist, igniting fire that ran down my body and quickened my loins.

I smiled seductively at her. "I'm Sister Louise," I purred.

"I'm Sarai," she answered back. "Please, do not hesitate to ask for anything. It's my job to satisfy any need you have."

After the flight leveled out, Sarai brought me a second flute of champagne and sat in the seat across the aisle from me. She had her own flute, and held her finger up to her lip. "Shhh, it's our little secret."

"I'm sure you've earned it," I flirted back, winking.

"You have no idea," she sighed, rubbing a foot in her dark blue, comfortable looking shoes. "But its worth it when you meet such beautiful people."

"I bet," then I looked around and leaned over the aisle, and slid her shoe off and socks and massaged her foot. Sarai shifted in her seat, turning so her feat dangled over the armrest into the aisle.

"Umm, that's nice," Sarai purred. "So, is is business or pleasure that brings you to Seattle?"

"Both," I answered. "I'm a nun, a Magdalenite Sister. I have somethings to attend to in Seattle, but I'm hoping to experience some of the pleasure's of the Northwest."

Sarai seemed puzzled. "A nun, huh? You're not what I expected." Clearly she wasn't used to a nun hitting on her, but she relaxed as I continued rubbing her foot with firm pressure, kneading her soles with my thumb. I leaned over to, pretending to get a better grip on her foot, but really to let her get a good view down my cleavage.

"My order is very unorthodox," I answered, switching to her other foot. Her legs spread and I quite a brief gimps of her panties. Leopard print, what a naughty girl.

"I'm Muslim," Sarai confided, "so I haven't had a lot of experience with nuns."

"I've always wandered, but is the mile high club a real thing?" I asked, continuing my massage. "I mean, have you ever heard of people, you know, in the lavatories?"

Sarai giggled, getting a little tipsy from the champagne. "It happens, occasionally. We try to be discrete if we discover it. Usually, if you knock on the door it flusters the couple so much that they quickly leave."

"Have you ever done it?"

There was a naughty twinkle in her eye. "Maybe."

"Ohh, you naughty girl, you have!" I whispered, excitedly and she just shrugged her shoulders. I let go of her foot and downed the rest of my champagne and felt a pressure in my bladder. "Excuse me, I need to pop into the ladies room real quick."

Sarai smiled warmly and finished off her champagne.

I stood up, grabbing my beaded purse, and stumbled a bit as the plane hit some turbulence. I made it to the First Class lavatory and slipped in, quickly doing my business, washed my hands and checked my makeup in the mirror. My face was round and doll-like with sky gray eyes and plump lips that just begged to be kissed. I touched up my red lipstick and adjusted my tits so they were more visible and opened the door, eager to get back to flirting with Sarai.

Only, she was standing there waiting for me, a hungry look on her face.

I pulled her into the lavatory, kissing her fiercely. It had been three years since my last Mission. Three years of furtive masturbation to memories of old lovers. I was ready to make some new memories to last me through the next dry spell. Sarai tongue was hot and dexterous as she probed my mouth. She shoved me against the wall and pulled up my dress skirt, exposing my black garters and the curly thatch of light brown pubic hair.

"Are you really a nun?" Sarai asked, sliding a finger slowly though my vulva. She brushed my clit and I shuddered in delight. "I mean, what kind of nun doesn't wear panties?"

"Oh, yes, I'm a nun!" I moaned. "But we're still human. We still have desires!"

I captured her lips in another kiss as her finger slowly rubbed circles on my clit. "But, how can you be gay and still be a nun?" she pressed, teasing my clit so wonderfully. Electricity surged through my body, tingling along all my nerves.

"We all serve the Lord in our own ways," I panted. "We all have our sins we struggle with, crosses we bear. Oh, fuck, you're making me cum, you hot little bitch!"

Sarai kissed my lips, stiffing my moans as I came on her fingers. Fuck, that was good. It had been far too long. "You are a bad nun, aren't you!" Sarai hissed, licking my fingers and then holding them up so I could taste myself. "A naughty nun who loves to sin!"

"Yes! Do you always fuck your passengers in the bathroom?" I asked.

"Only the beautiful ones," Sarai said and started to unbutton her vest. Her shirt followed, slipping to the floor of the lavatory revealing a strapless, leopard print bra that clasped in the front. The bra matched the panties I glimpsed up her skirt, earlier. I reached out and freed her tits. They were plump and full, so I rubbed my face between them, enjoying her silky skin. I found a hard, dark nipple and sucked it into my mouth. "Umm, that's nice," moaned Sarai.

I kissed down her stomach and she giggled as I tongued her cute bellybutton. My hands slid down her hips, down her legs, and then raised her skirt so it bunched about her hips. Her leopard print panties were wet with desire, pulled tight so I could see her delicious cameltoe. I breathed in her arousal, an intoxicating musk. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled them down. Her pussy was shaved bare, vulva glistening with sticky juices. For a moment a gleaming line of girl cum linked pussy and panties before it snapped. Her pussy was beautiful, clit hard and throbbing, vulva red with passion.

Thank you, Lord, for this bounty, I prayed silently, then feasted on her womanhood. My tongue wiggled in to her tight slit and found resistance.

"You're a virgin!" I gasped, in surprise.

"A good Muslim girl saves herself for marriage," Sarai answered, rotely.

"Allah doesn't have a problem with fingering another woman?" I asked, suspiciously.

She giggled. "No more than Jesus has a problem with you eating another woman's cunt." The minx had me there.

I found it exciting to eat out a virgin's cunt, even if she was only technically a virgin. I could not fuck my tongue deeply into her pussy as I would like, so I settled for lapping along her labia, drinking her musky flavor. My thumb found her hard little clit and rubbed it in fast, hard circles as devoured her sex while Sarai gasped and grounded, tits heaving with excitement.

"Oh yes," Sarai moaned quietly, "eat my virgin cunt! Oh, fuck, you're tongue feels amazing on my virgin pussy." She panted hard, and, as her orgasm approached, she lost her English, chanting in Arabic, "Elhas kussi! Elhas kussi! Sharmoota elhas kussi!" Musky cream flooded my mouth, drenching my face with her passion and I drank her bounty. She was panting, eyes closed, and whispered, "That was amazing!"

I smiled as I rose kissed her. She eagerly licked her musk off my face. God had delivered me a virgin, and I was excited to take my reward. I reached for my purse. She eyed me curious as I rooted around in my beaded purse then pulled out a small, purple dildo and the strap-on harness. Fear quickened in her eye, and she backed away from me as I pulled the strap-on up my slender legs.

"We should be leaving," Sarai said, licking her lips, nervously. "The other passenger's might be awake."

I adjusted the straps, making sure the dildo rubbed on my hard clit, and the smiled hungrily at her. "I thought you said you were here to satisfy me?"

"Please, miss." Sarai backed up, bumping into the door.

I reached back behind my neck, undoing the lacings that held my dress up. The fabric fell away, exposing my small, perky breasts. Sarai swallowed, staring lustfully at my hard nipples. I stepped forward and Sarai flinched as the dildo touched her stomach. Another step, and our breasts brushed together; pale tits kissing dark breasts.

"Don't you want to stop being a good Muslim girl?" I asked, leaning in to kiss her. "Don't you want to be bad?"

"I-I," she stuttered.

I slid the dildo between her legs, rubbing up against her slick cunt. "Don't you want to experience all the pleasure Allah gave you?" I kissed her neck, and slid the dildo up and just into her pussy, pressing gently against her hymen. "Your pussy was made to be fucked, and it feels so amazing when a hard object fills you up." I licked her ears, whispering, "Aren't you getting wet, thinking about my dildo fucking your cunt."

She shook her head, trying to wiggle away from my invading dildo.

"Just admit you want a beautiful woman to take your virginity! To make you a dirty, filthy, lesbian whore!"

She looked at me, tears shining in her eyes. "Allah, forgive me," she whispered and nodded her head.

"Say it!" I hissed. "Tell me to make you my lesbian whore."

"Please," she whispered hoarsely. "Please fuck my virgin cunt! Please make me your lesbian whore!"

She gasped as I fucked the hard piece of plastic through her hymen, the dildo rubbing pleasantly on my clit. I fucked Sarai hard and fast and she moaned delightfully into my ear. The door rattled from the force of our fucking. Just outside this door, two men slept. They could wake up at any moment. Or another stewardess could discovers us, or even the pilot. We could be found out at any moment and that made the sex even hotter.

"Oh, fuck!" Sarai gasped loudly. "Oh, fuck my pussy. Oh, this so amazing!"

"If you keep being so loud, someone's going to hear," I whispered in her ear as I fucked her. "Unless, you want to be caught. You want to show the world that your a bad, little Muslim girl. A dirty, whorish lesbian."

"Yes!" she hissed and shuddered as she came on the dildo. "I'm a dirty, lesbian slut. I love sucking tits and eating cunts!"

For an hour, we fucked in the bathroom. I fucked her, bent over the toilet. Then she put on the strap-on and sat on the toilet, and I rode her hard while she sucked on my tits. She fucked me up the ass and I had an amazing orgasm. Finally, both of us satiated, we dressed, cleaned up and slipped out of the bathroom. The other two First Class passengers were still asleep, snoring loudly. We slipped into seats in the back of first class and spent the rest of the flight making out, fingering each other to shuddering orgasms, both of us trying not to make any noise. Thank the Lord the other passengers were such heavy sleepers.

"Ladies and gentleman, we are starting to make our approach to Sea-Tac International," the Pilot announced over the intercom. "Please put your seat backs to their full, upright position and fasten your seatbelt."

Sarai got up to check the other two passengers, waking them up and making sure they put on their seatbelts. When she reached me, she bent down and slipped her hand inside my bodice, squeezing my breast momentarily. "Miss, please fasten your seatbelt," she said in a brisk, professional tone. When she pulled her hand out, she left a business card for the Sea-Tac Holiday Inn pressed against my breast. On the back was written, "I have a 48 hour layover. If you wanna have fun, ask for me at the front desk, Sarai."

I smiled to myself. Providence has laid the next step in my journey, and it was going to be a pleasant one.

I awoke alone, sunlight streaming through the large windows, bedroom windows and glass, sliding door.

I reached for Mary and found her side of the bed empty. I sat up, looking around. I was in the master bedroom of the house I "borrowed" from Brandon Fitzsimmons. Thanks to the Pact I made with the Devil, people had to do what I told them. I also "borrowed" his wife, a hot Latina named Desiree, making her my second sex slave, along with the teenage slut, Allison. I rubbed sleep from my eye. It was late when I finally tried to sleep, nearly 3 AM. I glanced at the cloak and groaned to see it was 7:34 AM. Fuck that's early. I thought about rolling back to sleep, but my mind kept drifting back to last night.

When Mary and I got in last night it was nearly one in the morning, we slipped into bed and talked about what happened. Mary had made her pact with the Devil, like I had days earlier. And then the Devil handed me this red crystal that glowed with scarlet light, and told me if I was ever in trouble to hold up the crystal and say, "Lilith, appear before me." A fear clenched at my stomach. Why would I need this. Mary sensed my fear, and so we talked and theorized what the Devil meant, What danger lay before us. And who or what was Lilith.

"That name is familiar," Mary had murmured, snuggled naked against me. "I think its from Vampire: The Masquerade."

"Wait, what?" I asked, starring incredulously at her. "You played that?"

Mary laughed. "Yeah, there was a six months or so in my junior year of high school that I really got into Twilight. And a friend introduced me to the local Vampire: the Masquerade Coven and I spent Tuesdays and Thursday nights LARPing as the Vampiress Damona."

"Wow," I grinned, amused. "You LARPed."

"Yeah," she admitted, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Although, we just hung out and dressed in just the awfullest black clothing and wore too much black makeup. With my pale skin I looked like a corpse. Which I guess was the point, but I never really liked it."

"I don't know," I said, "I bet you were real sexy as a goth." I pictured Mary, black dress contrasting to her pale skin. Black lipstick staining her lips and her auburn hair aiding an exciting splash of color, draped over one shoulder and falling down into her cleavage.

"Anyway," she said, frowning at me. "I'm pretty sure Lilith was the mother of monsters, or something like that. Some demon, or something like that. One of the cults had something to do with her."

I got my smart phone out and googled Lilith. "Huh," reading the Wikipedia page. "She was a Canaanite goddess and, according to Jewish mythology, was Adam's first wife but refused to submit to his authority so he divorced her and married Eve."

"Good for her," Mary said.

The fact I initially used my powers to control Mary was still a sore subject between us, so I didn't rise to her bait, and continued reading, "Then she became the mother of monsters and a succubus."

"Just like I said," pointed out Mary.

"Sorry if I didn't want to trust Vampire: The Masquerade for my information," I apologized, testily.

"Just Wikipedia."

"It's pretty reliable," I said defensively. "Fine, I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"Good," she said, nodding and smiling... "As long as you remember that I'm always right, things will go smoothly for you, Mark."

Wisely, I choose not to dispute that. "So, why would I need a monster mother's help?" I asked, changing the subject.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know, maybe..."

We talked for a while longer, going round in circles about theories and speculations. In the end, we gave up and I promised to keep the crystal with me at all times, just in case. Mary snuggled up against me and feel asleep without a problem. And it turned out she snored. It was soft and kinda cute. And as I grappled with dark thoughts, trying to sleep, I found her snores ... comforting. I wasn't alone in the dark. Mary would be there with me to face whatever danger the Devil saw in my future.

When I finally fell asleep, it was a shallow, restless one, plagued with a reoccurring nightmare. I was surrounded by shadowy monsters, holding a crimsons crystal in my hand, Mary pressed behind me as I tried to protect her. I would say the words, "Lilith, appear before me." But nothing happened and the monsters would swarm in and I would wake up, breathing hard. Mary would snuggled tightly against me, somehow instinctively consoling me in her sleep, and I would drift back off to sleep to experience the nightmare all over again.

I tried to ignore my worries and go back to sleep but it was too bright and my bladder was too full, so I stumbled towards bathroom. On the way, I noticed Mary out on the balcony and ... I blinked, was that an easel in front of her? I had to pee to bad to find out, and kept stumbling to the bathroom. I braced one arm against the wall and started pissing, hoping I was getting it in the bowl. I was too tired to aim. After pissing, I fumbled with the shower controls. A hot shower always helped me wake up.

I leaned against the tiled walls of the shower, mauve and gray, and let the warm water pour over me. After several minutes of warm, luxurious bliss, I was finally feeling alive. I grabbed the soap and washed my body and then shampooed my hair. I stepped out of the shower and shaved my face and combed my hair. I slapped on some spicy aftershave Mary had bought me and spritzed some bodyspray in my armpits.

Yesterday, Allison and Desiree and cleared all of Desiree and her husband's clothes and personal effects out of the master bedroom and replaced them with Mary and my clothing. I found some clean boxers, jeans, and a maroon polo shirt. Dressed, I grabbed my phone and sent Allison a text, before heading out to the master bedroom's balcony to see what Mary was up to.

Mary stood before an easel and a large canvas, paintbrush in one hand and a wooden palette in the other, covered in smears of paints. She was dressed in one of my white, buttoned down shirts that fell down to mid thigh on her. Mary's auburn hair was tied back and fell in a loose ponytail down her back. Her legs were long and gorgeous and she was barefoot, her feet small with cute little toes. She appeared to be painting Mount Rainier with the sun rising over the mountain's shoulder.

"Hey, Mare," I greeted, sitting down on the loveseat, admiring the way her shapely rear shifted about beneath the shirt tails as she painted. "Looking good!"

"Morning, hun," Mary answered, not even looking at me. She was too fixated on her painting.

"Painting the Mountain?" I asked. God, what a stupid question. What else could she be painting. "It's looking pretty."

"Oh, thanks," she said, absentminded.

"Any plans for today?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "No, not really. What were you thinking."

I started to speak when someone knocked on the bedroom door. "Come in, Allison!" I shouted.

Allison padded through the room. The pink-haired teenage slut was dressed in a sexy, french maid outfit that she bought yesterday. The bodice of the dress was made of a transparent, black material that showed her hard nipples and the silver barbell that pierced each one. The skirt was made of many layers of white, lacy petticoats covered by the black, lacy material of the skirt. It was short, barely covered her ass when she stood straight, and when she bent over her ass and pussy would be on display.

"Good morning Master, good morning Mistress," Allison said politely as she stepped out onto the balcony.

"Good morning, slut," Mary said, still concentrating on her painting.

"Did you make the arrangements I asked you to," I asked. Yesterday, I sent her several texts while Mary and I were shopping.

"Yes, Master, I made all the reservations and programmed the GPS," Allison answered.

"Good slut," I praised, and pulled my cock out. Allison knelt before me and sucked my cock into her warm mouth.

"What arrangements?" Mary asked, curiously. She glanced behind her and shook her head in amusement when she saw Allison blowing me.

Allison was a pro at blowjobs. She had a tongue stud, and the metal was a small spot of hard pressure, rubbing across my dick. "An orca tour," I answered. "And then dinner in Seattle, at the Space Needle. If you want to?"

"Are you asking me out an a date while some sluts sucks on your dick?"

"Oh, yeah!" I moaned as Allison started bobbing her head on my shaft. I ran my hand through her bubblegum pink hair.

"Okay, sounds fun," Mary answered. "When do we leave?"

I looked down at Allison. "Well, slut?"

Allison popped her mouth off my cock, "You need to leave within the next ninety minutes or so," she answered then sucked my cock back into her mouth.

"Well, then I need to get ready," Mary said. "Slut, when you finish blowing Mark, clean up here and take everything to my studio."

Allison moaned around my cock that could have been, "Yes, Mistress."

Mary bent down and kissed me on the lips. "Have fun," she said with a smile, stroked Allison's hair, and walked inside. I followed her ass with my eyes, enjoying her hip's sway, before she disappeared into the bathroom. I closed my eyes, and enjoyed Allison's wet mouth and tongue on my cock. She was bobbing her head rapidly on my dick, my sensitive head brushing the back of her throat. My balls tightened, and I came in her mouth.

"Thank you, Master, for your yummy cum," Allison said, semen staining her lips, then she gently licked my cock's mushroom head, lapping out all my cum, then zipped my pants back up.

I went downstairs and heard Desiree cooking in the kitchen. Desiree was an amazing cook, and I wondered what delicious food she was making for breakfast. My stomach rumbled, clearly just as eager for her cooking as I was. Still to tired to do anything constructive, I turned on the TV and saw a blurry, black and white image of my face off a security camera.

"The fuck," I murmured to myself, turning the volume up.

"Authorities are asking for you help in identifying this man," the news anchor reported, "wanted in connection with the a series of strange events that happened in the South Hill Bestbuy on Thursday and robbery of a jewelry store in a local mall, as well as several other strange occurrences. Eye witness place him in the company of two young women, one with red or auburn hair and one with hair dyed pink. Call Crimestoppers if you have any tips."

Wow. I guess I made more of ripple than I thought. Well, I did start an orgy at the Bestbuy. I snorted, gas, huh. I guess that's one way to explain a bunch of people fucking in the electronic aisle. Could this the danger the Devil was warning me of? I shook my head. No, that couldn't be it. If any police showed up to arrest me, I would just tell them to let me go. And if Mary or Allison got arrested, I could just walk into the jail and free them.

The news then started talking about some stupid bullshit a dog did, so I turned it off. I stared at the blank screen of the TV and pulled out the red crystal, studying it. The gem appeared to be a perfectly ordinary crystal. It didn't burn with that crimson light like last night, it was cool in my hand, and smooth as glass.

"Master?" I jumped. Desiree was standing in front of me, peering worriedly. She was dressed in the same maids outfit that Allison wore and her large tits covered by the sheer bodice dangled in front of my face. "Mi Rey, are you all right? You didn't answer me."

"Sorry, I was just thinking," I replied, slipping the crystal back into my pocket, next to the engagement ring box. I needed to get my mind off what the Devil said. I hoped today was going to be a fun, romantic day with Mary that went perfectly. "What did you want, Desiree?"

"Breakfast is ready, mi Rey, " she answered. "Shall I go let Reina know."

"Yeah, she's probably getting out of the shower now," I told her. "Desiree, what does, uh, mi rey mean?"

"My king," Desiree answered, then a pained look frowned her face, "do you not like it?"

"No, no, I like it," I paused. "So Reina is..."

"Queen," she said with a shy smile, then headed upstairs to find Mary. "Tell her that!" I called after. Mary would love be called Queen.

In the kitchen there was a small, breakfast table and laid on it were four plates with omelets and crispy toast. A pitcher of orange juice set in the middle of the table along with several jars of various jams. On the counter, a pot of coffee steamed. I poured myself a cup, added cream, and set down at the table. The omelet turned out to be a tasty, southwestern omelet with red peppers, bacon, jalapeno, jack cheese, and avocado.