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FOR THE LOCALS OF THE FRENCH QUARTER, next to the streetcar system, walking was the preferred mode of transportation, but with the blistering humidity of summer combined with being nearly six months pregnant, Rory refused to endure the Louisiana heat or the nausea-inducing tracks. Frankly, riding in a car was not very comfortable either, being it was with Klaus and Marcel, the two frenemies who were clearly still plotting against each other.
She had dug up a lilac dyed cotton dress out of the storage, the loose-cut allowing her to fit into the vintage dress snugly, even if she had to pin the sleeves. The obsidian pendant and a lilac headband completed her accessories. A pair of heels would've pulled the outfit together, but she had enough back problems as it was.
Rory awkwardly shifted for the third time.
"You good?" Marcel eyed her.
"Fine...just hot."
Klaus frowned as he parked the car. Several people were milling about, heading inside the church. "The AC was blasting, love."
"Hot flashes are no joke," Marcel said sympathetically. "I remember passing out in the fields in the summers."
"I don't think that's a proportional comparison, but thanks for the sympathy."
Klaus leaned over to open the compartment at her knees, digging at the glove compartment. "I believe my dear sister left a fan here once...ah, this might help inside if my sizable donations weren't enough to get decent air conditioning."
Rory was amused that he thought to clarify the fan belonged to his sister, and not him or any previous partners.
"Try to keep the dickiness down to a minimum—both of you—this is a holy place," she shook her head while both men made affronted expressions.
"Thank you all for coming," Father Kieran began the mass. "It means more than I can tell you. We gather today for the first public service of our newly reopened church. St. Anne's can finally once again be the heart of our community, where we can congregate as a people united. Here, this hour, we come together to praise God and give thanks. The events that took place at our church were tragic."
Klaus noticed how distracted Marcel was, trying to look for someone in the back of the church. He raised his brow, "Problem?"
"No," Marcel frowned and stopped looking.
"Then pay attention," Klaus jutted his chin forward mockingly. "We're meant to seem like devoted parisioners."
"Both of you shush," Rory hissed, slapping Klaus' knee with the edge the fan, which had turned out useful. They were terrible at whispering for a pair of vampires.
