“I’m sorry about your amulet.” She kept her voice low and dipped her head. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at the warlock’s chest. “And about Harriet.”
“Harriet?” His voice rose, puzzled.
“My cat.” Even in the growing dark, Clara could see that Becca was blushing, and that her own awareness of her rising color only made the flush worse. “The orange and white one.”
“Oh.” One hand went to his chest again, and Becca turned away. Clara wished she could tell the shy, sweet girl that her pink cheeks were barely visible to the other humans.
Trent must have sensed something, though, because as Becca moved away, he reached for her, and as if the warmth of his chest was carried through his fingers, she became redder still.“She doesn’t usually do things like that,” she said. And just for a moment, Clara had to wonder if her person was really talking about her sister cat.
“It was no big deal.” Trent’s voice was low too, almost as if he were sharing a secret. “It was just the chain for my—that thing.”
“Your amulet?” Becca chirped in what Clara thought of as her helpful voice, even as Trent’s mouth tightened in dismissal.
“And what are you two up to?” Larissa shoved the plate of cookies between them before he could respond.
“Nothing much.” Becca took a cookie. “Thanks.”
“Keeping yourself busy?” One dark brow arched in emphasis. The question appeared to be directed to Becca, but even as she spoke, the older woman turned to stare at Trent.
“I’m basically focusing on my research,” Becca offered when it became clear that the man at her side would remain silent. When Larissa’s brow rose further, she explained. “I’m kind of an amateur genealogist. I mean, I might as well use my research skills for something.” More silence, and Becca couldn’t avoid the awful suspicion that she was being judged. Something about those dark eyes and the raven-wing black of those brows. “And I’m looking for work still, of course.” Still nothing, and so she ventured on. “I called Graham today.”
The other woman blinked at that, so slowly that Clara almost thought she was a cat.“Your friend?” Becca offered.
“My mentor,” Larissa corrected her with a nod. “Of course. I’m so glad, dear. I’m sure he’ll look after you.”
“I hope so.” Becca sounded a little anxious. “He agreed to see me, but I’d hate to think that this was just because Suzanne—”
“Nonsense.” Now it was the older woman who was patting her arm, her lacquered nails nearly black in the fading light. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll make sure he knows how special you are.”
Becca swallowed so hard that Clara looked up in alarm. Humans didn’t have hair balls. She knew that, but the young woman before her was patently unnerved. Her older colleague didn’t seem to notice, however. In fact, she’d moved on to Trent and was leading him down toward the water.
“What was that?” Kathy again, her mouth full of cookie.
“Oh, I followed up with that job lead Larissa was telling me about.” Becca’s gaze followed the older woman as she walked away. “Only, well, I’m wondering if it’s a good idea. I’m not sure—” She stopped abruptly, and Clara’s ears perked up, the black sensor hairs inside tingling.“I’m not sure what kind of reference she’ll give me.”
“I get it.” Kathy finished the cookie and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, while Clara studied her human. Becca had changed her mind about what she’d been about to say, and her pet wanted to know why. But Kathy didn’t seem to notice. Leaning in, she dropped her usually brassy voicedown into a conspiratorial hush. “Larissa uses her purse strings to control everyone, and you don’t want to just step into Suzanne’s shoes. I mean, talk about bad luck! Hey, why don’t you call my boss instead?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Becca turned, as if seeing the other woman for the first time. “I meant to tell you. I did reach out—Eric Marshfield, right? He said he’s not looking for anyone now.”
“Oh, gee, that’s my fault!” Kathy shook her girlish curls. “I’m so sorry. I meant to speak with him, first. He doesn’t know it yet, but one of the girls I work with is about to give notice—”
“I don’t know.” Becca cut her off.
“No, really.” Kathy’s smile wrinkled her freckled nose. “Eric needs someone. I’ll clear it up and get back to you.”
“Thanks.” Becca managed a smile. It was nearly full dark by then, and the party had begun to break up. “Do you think we should clean up?”
“Well, the cookies are gone.” Kathy seemed to lose interest, but she tagged after Becca as she collected paper plates and napkins into the bag that had transported the cider.
“Thanks, dear.” Larissa took the trash from her, folding the bag top over as she drew it close. “Would you like a ride home?” Marcia, Kathy, and Trent had already lined up behind her.
“No, thanks. I’ll walk.” Becca turned around as if to seek a companion or, perhaps, Clara realized, to continue a discussion. But Ande was already gone.
Chapter 27
Clara woke the next morning with a start.“Something’s burning!” She mewed over to Harriet, who was still sacked out beside her, and went in search of Laurel and Becca.
“North, south, east…” She found Becca in the living room, waving around a bundle of smoldering twigs. “No, wait, that’s west.”
Laurel was observing from a safe distance, under the dining room table.
“What’s going on?” Clara asked her sister.
A flick of the tail.“Some spell she looked up to get rid of negativity.”The seal point turned and, leaving the room, whined in pure Siamese fashion.“More like she wants to get rid of us. That stinks.”
Any further complaint was cut off by a metallic shriek that sent Becca scrambling. After quickly dousing the sage bundle in the sink, she clambered onto a chair to silence the alarm and then opened the apartment’s front window.
The noise woke Harriet, who joined Clara and Laurel as their person wandered around the living room, fanning the air with a newspaper.“It’s not right, waking us like that and then not feeding us,” the sleepy marmalade grumbled with a yawn
“She will,” Clara reassured her.“She always does.”
“Wake me when she does.”Harriet settled in for a nap as Becca, a bit more tousled than usual, began her morning toilette. After watching her oldest sister curl up on the sofa, Clara found Laurel in the bedroom, where Becca was dressing.
It had taken Clara a few moments to understand what her sister was up to, those blue eyes focused so intently as their person rifled through her closet. Only after she’d taken out a halter-top sundress did Clara turn on Laurel with a hiss.
“What?” Laurel’s ears flicked back. Any interruption tended to dispel her ability to suggest thoughts.“You want her to succeed, don’t you?”
“Not like that.” Clara did her best not to growl.“It’s not that kind of meeting.”
“They’reall that kind of meeting.” Laurel turned her back on her sister, but despite her feigned nonchalance, that chocolate tail was already whipping back and forth.
Clara, who knew how much was at stake, wasn’t going to let this one go. “Laurel,”she hissed. No response beyond another flick of those dark ears.“Laurel!”The calico had raised her paw to smack her older sister on her caf? au lait behind when Harriet interrupted.
“Where’s our breakfast?” The big marmalade looked around as she lumbered over to the chair, where two discarded outfits had already been tossed—evidence of the battle being waged between her younger siblings.“Is she—are you two—going to keep this up all day?”
“No.” Turning away, Laurel began grooming, as if the appearance of her own dainty brown booties were all that mattered.“It’s hopeless.”
As Becca pulled a modish—but modest—skirt and matching jacket out of her closet, Clara sighed with relief. She hadn’t wanted to fight. Clara didn’t think her slinky sealpoint sister was jealous of her own particular power—the ease with which she passed through walls and closed doors. But the calico did suspect that her sister would not stand to have her more mischievous wishes thwarted again. Luckily, not even Laurel would start an argument with Harriet about breakfast, and the bigger cat’s interruption had already broken her brief spell. No magic was required to remind Becca of her most important of duties, however, and while Harriet and Laurel were still face down in their dishes, Clara snuck out—catching Becca as she headed for her appointment.