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Tim the YetiShiloh’s entrance pulled Mandy’s attention away from Cat, but didn’t hold it for long. Mandy had barely managed to process what Shiloh was saying—and all of its implications—before Emma appeared, almost as suddenly.
The urgent tone of her voice brought Mandy to attention, and Mandy found herself complying with Emma’s request almost before she’d decided to do so—once someone told you to think about something, it was almost impossible not to.
Because she could guess why Emma had singled her out, Mandy focused on things no one else was likely to notice. First, the scattered, less-frequented rooms at PHI that housed most of her favorite napping spots; then, the way that, no matter where she was in the building, she could usually hear the cadence of familiar voices from the next room. Next came more immediate details: Emma’s confident posture, the way she practically thrummed with energy. The still-strong smell of Cat’s grief, overlaying everything else.
And then she heard Emma’s sharp inhale, and she knew they’d done it.
Mandy relaxed.
She had braced herself at the sound of footsteps, though she recognized the cadence just before Shiloh (and then Emma) had strode through the door. Cait sidhe were hard to surprise, but easy to startle, and Mandy had never managed the bored mask that her mother and uncles had worn so well. Her mother could recline languidly against a wall, cool as cream, and only someone who knew what to look for would ever guess that she was afraid. Mandy could make her face blank of expression, even hide what she was feeling, but she would never have that impossible air of nonchalance.
At least she wasn’t alone in being uneasy. Cat looked so very small, curled up in her chair while information flew around the room and over her head. Shiloh had been so caught up in what she was saying that she didn’t seem to realize how much she was scaring their client.
At first, Mandy was at a loss. She’d already given Cat the water, which pretty much exhausted all of her unobtrusive kindnesses. She couldn’t very well give her another one.
Glancing at Emma and her athamae, Mandy decided the kindest gift she could give right now was an explanation. “She’s doing a tracking spell,” she said quietly. Mandy made herself meet Cat’s large green eyes, though only for a second or two. “Whatever happened out there, Emma’s trying to trace.”
The urgent tone of her voice brought Mandy to attention, and Mandy found herself complying with Emma’s request almost before she’d decided to do so—once someone told you to think about something, it was almost impossible not to.
Because she could guess why Emma had singled her out, Mandy focused on things no one else was likely to notice. First, the scattered, less-frequented rooms at PHI that housed most of her favorite napping spots; then, the way that, no matter where she was in the building, she could usually hear the cadence of familiar voices from the next room. Next came more immediate details: Emma’s confident posture, the way she practically thrummed with energy. The still-strong smell of Cat’s grief, overlaying everything else.
And then she heard Emma’s sharp inhale, and she knew they’d done it.
Mandy relaxed.
She had braced herself at the sound of footsteps, though she recognized the cadence just before Shiloh (and then Emma) had strode through the door. Cait sidhe were hard to surprise, but easy to startle, and Mandy had never managed the bored mask that her mother and uncles had worn so well. Her mother could recline languidly against a wall, cool as cream, and only someone who knew what to look for would ever guess that she was afraid. Mandy could make her face blank of expression, even hide what she was feeling, but she would never have that impossible air of nonchalance.
At least she wasn’t alone in being uneasy. Cat looked so very small, curled up in her chair while information flew around the room and over her head. Shiloh had been so caught up in what she was saying that she didn’t seem to realize how much she was scaring their client.
At first, Mandy was at a loss. She’d already given Cat the water, which pretty much exhausted all of her unobtrusive kindnesses. She couldn’t very well give her another one.
Glancing at Emma and her athamae, Mandy decided the kindest gift she could give right now was an explanation. “She’s doing a tracking spell,” she said quietly. Mandy made herself meet Cat’s large green eyes, though only for a second or two. “Whatever happened out there, Emma’s trying to trace.”