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air, so he shrugged into his leather jacket and then went inside.
    The aroma of meat and potatoes sizzling in grease greeted him. A few leathery faced men turned from the counter and looked at him hard, as if he had interrupted a Ku Klux Klan powwow.
    "Evening, folks," he said in his best Southern drawl.
    None of them answered him.
    Isaiah sat in a booth in the corner. A pretty, redheaded waitress, smacking bubble gum, came to the table to take his order. Her name tag read SUE ANN. Figured.
    He ordered four soft scrambled eggs, a double order of hash browns "scattered, smothered, and covered," a side of waffles, and sides of bacon and sausage. He requested coffee and orange juice, too.
    It was enough food for two people, but he was ravenous. Besides, no matter how much he ate, he didn't gain an ounce of fat. He'd always had one of those supercharged metabolisms, like a jungle predator.
    He loved breakfast food, too, especially late at night. It reminded him, pleasantly, of his childhood, and how he'd sneak into the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning to get a bowl of Cheerios. He'd sometimes eaten those same Cheerios for dinner, too, if Mama was strapped for cash.
    "Hungry tonight, ain't you?" Sue Ann asked. Her green eyes sparkling, she swayed closer to the table. "I like me a man with a big appetite."
    He arched his eyebrows. This white girl was flirting with him.
    It didn't surprise him. Women loved him. Based on his appearance, they thought he was a bad boy, and women loved men like him, even though logic dictated that they shouldn't. People were rarely logical, especially when sex was involved.
    Her gaze never leaving his face, Sue Ann blew a bubble, sucked it in expertly, and smiled at him.
    He gave her a deliberate once-over. She was probably in her early twenties, part of that generation of white kids that thought black hip-hop stars and athletes were the coolest creatures to walk the earth. She had a slender build, long legs, firm titties. One eyebrow was pierced, and he glimpsed a tattoo of a red rose on her chest, underneath a spatter of freckles.
    He started to reply, and then hesitated. The diner had fallen silent. He felt the hot gazes of the rednecks on him, watching their exchange, wondering why Sue Ann was talking to this black guy for so long. He better not be trying to flirt with her, goddamnit, or else we'll show him, just like those good old boys in Mississippi showed Emmett Till.
    Isaiah sensed their rising anger, their envy, their hatred. It rose off their auras like sour sweat, promising danger if he dared to tread further.
    But none of these people knew what kind of man he was.
    He gave Sue Ann a bright smile. "My appetite isn't the only big thing I've got"
    "That so?" She didn't blush. She met his gaze, a sure sign that she'd been around. "I saw that nice car of yours. You from Illinois?"
    "Chi-Town," he said.
    "That so? You headed to 'Lanta?"
    He nodded. "I'm going to a ... I guess you could call it a family reunion."
    "That's nice; wish my family did stuff like that...:. She blinked. "Hey, I better put your order in, huh? You so hungry, you liable to eat me up"
    "And you'd love it," he said.
    She giggled. "Be right back" She sashayed away. Damn, she had a booty like a sista. He noticed more and more white chicks sporting sista-girl asses these days. Maybe they were getting implants down there or something.
    The rednecks hunched over the counter watched him and Sue Ann, displeasure evident on their faces. After Sue Ann put in the order with the cook, she went to refresh the guys' coffee. One of them, a tanned, Mt. Everest of a man, grabbed her arm and whispered choice words in her ear. The giant redneck kept his gaze on him as he spoke to the waitress, as if to say, "Yeah, I'm talking to her 'bout you. What you gonna do about it?"
    Isaiah calmly sipped his coffee. Sue Ann finally slipped out of the guy's grasp, massaging her arm. Although she'd promised to be right back, she avoided him until she