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didn’t really know how to deal with that, and frankly I didn’t want to. “Look, I’m sorry, I wasn’t speeding,” I said quietly. “One of our friends just got attacked—”
    “Oh,” she said. “I-I’m so sorry—are they OK?”
    I stood there, swaying. “No, he’s—” My mouth grew dry. “He didn’t make it.”
    The line was quiet. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” the woman said.
    “Yes, well, yes,” I said. “I hate to inconvenience you, but … can you fit us in?”
    “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I-I’m so sorry. We just filled our last slot an hour ago.”
    I was stunned. I had known they were squeezing us in, but—”Are you sure?”
    “We had three slots left and filled five before the principal called me and told me to stop,” the woman said. “I’ve been calling the rest of the appointments and canceling—”
    “I see,” I said quietly. “Thank you.” I hung up the phone, staring at it. “ Damnit .”
    Cinnamon stared up at me, eyes welling up. “I’m goin’ for a walk,” she said.
    “Go to her,” Rand said, taking the phone from my hand and redialing. “Hello? Clairmont Academy? Yes, this is Detective Andre Rand with the APD, badge number—”
    I followed Cinnamon, who kept her back to me, snuffling. “I don’t wanna talk to you,” she said. “You wants me to go to school, but can’t even find a good one—”
    “We’ll find you a school,” I said, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Look, I know what you want. I’ll find a way for you to have a real life—”
    “How?” she said bitterly, turning. “I’m a total freak. Look at me. Look at me!”
    I stared down at her. At her orange hair, her yellow cat eyes, her tattooed stripes, her huge ears, her twitching tail. This time of the month, fine orange fur began encroaching upon her pale olive skin at the edges of her normal hair. You couldn’t not know she was a werekin.
    But none of that mattered to me. “What?” I asked. “All I see is my daughter.”
    Her eyes welled up even more, and then she grabbed me and squeezed me so hard the air once again left my lungs. “You big sap,” she said, still crying. “Always gets me with the sticky-sweets. Lucky for you Rand snagged us an appointment at three.”
    I looked over at Rand, smiling, but there was a glint in his eye which seemed to say there was more to his favor than just soothing Cinnamon’s broken heart … and I knew precisely what he wanted for his quid pro quo .
    “Wonderful,” I said. “ More than enough time to break the news to my ex-girlfriend.”

Undying Lover

    We delayed the inevitable by getting breakfast-for-lunch at Ria’s Bluebird Café. And not just because it was right across the street from Oakland Cemetery: I love the place, and for more than the food. It’s always amusing to watch a server’s expression as tiny little Cinnamon plows into beef brisket, while big old me nibbles at soysage, sweet potatoes and a tofu omelet.
    While Cinnamon finished up, I sipped my sweet tea, scanned the street, and found myself noticing graffiti where I’d never seen it before: a sloppy caricature sprayed on the side of an Atlanta Journal-Constitution newspaper box; something political stenciled on a sidewalk; even colorful bubbly capitals sprayed on the brick wall of the Cemetery itself. Nothing as elaborate as the tag that killed Revy, but, still, graffiti was ever present.
    But then the check came, it was only twelve-thirty, and our appointment at the school wasn’t until three; and so we no longer had a good excuse not to drive the five minutes to the nearby Consulate and deliver the bad news to my childhood sweetheart.
    The Vampire Consulate of Little Five Points isn’t actually in Little Five Points. It’s at another five-pointed intersection in the Sweet Auburn area downtown. There, hidden away in a quiet set of buildings made from a deconsecrated church, is the court of one of the most powerful vampires in Atlanta: the Lady