She lifted her head, her hair now even more unruly than before, one cheek faintly creased from the fabric. Her eyes were hazy, but she looked relaxed and at peace, so different from the ball of nerves who had walked in less than an hour ago.
“You say comforting things in the least comforting way possible,” she murmured.
“I don’t get paid for comfort.”
“Actually, you do. Isn’t that the whole point of your business?”
Well, she had me there, but I wasn’t about to start a full-on banter battle. “Just hush, please, and sit up slowly,” I said, trying to get her moving, because I needed to drain this sooner rather than later.
She swung her legs over the side of the table and sat there for a moment, both hands braced beside her as she breathed, that usual haziness settling in that I knew would wear off soon enough.
“I haven’t felt this relaxed in years,” she said, almost in awe.
Something in my chest tightened at the sincerity in her tone, and somehow that twisted into anger, not at her, but atwhoever, orwhatever, had made that sentence true.
I turned away first, reaching for the oil bottle and recapping it with forced focus, giving myself something to do before everything I was holding pushed me into saying something I shouldn’t.
“Drink water when you get home,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Your body will feel the release more tomorrow.”
She slid off the table and reached for her coat, moving with the slight disorientation of someone who had temporarily left her ownbody and hadn’t quite found her way back yet as she made her way toward the front.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You should come back,” I heard myself say before I had fully decided to. My mind insisted I should be done with her—that this should be nothing more than a single appointment—because if there was more ofthatin her, I knew I’d have to clear an entire day to handle what she was feeling. And yet, something in me resisted that conclusion. Though taking in that much hurt was difficult, I didn’t think it was right for her to carry it either, not when I could do something about it.
Her brows lifted slightly, something curious and amused flickering back into her expression. “Was that professional advice or a terrifying order?”
“Both.”
She nodded, as if that answer made perfect sense, and a moment later she was gone. I stood where I was for several seconds after the shell chimes settled, listening to the fading rhythm of her footsteps outside as they disappeared into the night. And as if on cue, Mina appeared in the doorway, wearing the exact expression I least wanted to see on her face.
“No,” I said, already knowing she was about to badger me about the session with Kara.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
She crossed her arms, leaning casually against the frame. “Interesting,” she said, studying me. “She is either the beginning of a terrible decision or the solution to your personality problem,” Mina continued, entirely unbothered. “Possibly both.”
“She’s just a client.”
Mina’s mouth twitched, like she was holding back something far more annoying. “Mmhm.”
I wanted to argue further, to shut the conversation down before it went anywhere else, but the weight of Kara’s fear and stress still lingered beneath my ribs and I found I didn’t have the energy to waste on Mina’s imagination.
I locked up for the night as Mina headed off to her doom—I mean her anniversary dinner—and my feet carried me toward the cove without conscious thought. It was instinct at this point, a pull as steady as the tide itself, needing to drain it all as soon as possible.
I walked faster than usual, irritation simmering just beneath my skin. I hated how this felt, and I could only imagine what it must have been like for Kara—someone who, from everything I could sense, had far more human in her blood than magic...if she had any magic at all.
The thought crept back in, my pessimistic instincts lingering. It wasn’t my place to question it, not my place to dig into something that wasn’t mine to expose. But if she was here, in my town, among my kind, and didn’t truly belong, then why the hell was she here? She didn’t seem dangerous, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t bring danger with her.
And despite all my suspicions... I had still invited her back for another session.
The realization sat uneasily in my chest as I continued down the path, the sound of the ocean growing louder with each step. Something about her pulled at me in a way I didn’t like, a curiositythat refused to be ignored, and though I wanted to get to the bottom of what she might be hiding, what I really wanted to know was what—or who—had carved that kind of fear I’d felt tonight into her in the first place.
I pushed the thought aside, my jaw tightening.
Not your concern, Octavius. I reminded myself as I continued on.
