Hecate was almost always hungry, lately. "Not recently enough," she said, rising to set the watering can down in a corner of the garden. Qebhet had sent over some more honey cakes but Hecate thought something more substantial was called for. The Enodia served all day breakfast, a concept that Hecate had been a very early adopter of, since she didn't see why rising after dark should exclude her from the pleasure of waffles, but it also served all day dinners, because sometimes what she wanted at the end of a long night of magic (or hotel admin) was something hearty and filling. And honestly, in a city that never slept, she wasn't the only one.
Over mushroom quesadillas and poached eggs (not on the same plate) they talked about Marcie's family till the food was all gone, and they went their separate ways, Hecate to bed and Marcie back up to the top floor, with Hecate promising to check back in later in the evening.
Well no - Hecate said she was going to bed, but she was really going to pour over some tarot for a while, to search for any Wisconsin based warnings, but Marcie didn't need to know that.
Upstairs, Kaden's stomach had woken him up, and he emerged, barely conscious but hungry, to grab the container of honey cakes from the bench and sit in the late morning sun, eating them one after the other. Dreams lingered; something about Barak, something threatening and non-specific but vivid enough to make his stomach hurt around the cakes.
Marcie wasn't in, and Kaden knew that the only person that was going to be opening that door would be her, coming back in. He knew that. His head knew that. And still when the door opened he froze hard in his seat, adrenaline spiked, waiting to see who it was who was invading.