Then something happened.
Or, Tilly thought that something happened, but the moment that Tilly's hand touched hers, Astra let it go and stepped back.Her severely unmoving expression cracked for less than a full second before it was back, but that darkness she'd felt from Astra moved, ink blooming inside of her.
"You must be Tilly."
"Tilly Nguyen," she replied, trying to infuse her voice with gumption though she was feeling thrown off.
"I do hope nothing awry happens while we're here," she cooed. Her dark head tilted. "That would be troubling."
Tilly frowned. The feeling of apple cider vinegar sliding down her throat, disrupting a calm stomach, overcame her.
Her hand at her side clenched, then she felt the chief's warm hand gently lay on her lower back; it was both shocking and soothing. She could imagine the darkness losing its form, ink blooming before fading into water.
"Well, I'll see you around,chief." Mocking. But then she and her two comrades were off, like a trio of well-timed synchrony. Tilly watched once again in awe at their coordinated steps that ate up the ground with strength and precision.
"Do you think they practice walking together in step? I mean, they have to, right?"
He let out a breath, one of the first times she experienced him being remotely untethered to his stoic self. His hand was still on the small of her back, and she wouldn't admit it to him out loud, but it felt nice, a comforting weight.
When he finally withdrew, she mourned the loss for a moment before she turned to look up at him. He was watching the three women walk down the street and part the crowd without effort.
"You know them."
He nodded twice slowly.
"If you can help it, don't get tangled up with them. Especially Astra."
"They made it pretty clear when they crashed our dinner party that they were here watching us."
His eyes cut to her sharply. "They sought you out?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm moving into The Lost Souls House because," she shook her head, "never mind. But we were having a dinner party in the back garden to celebrate, and at the end of it, the Sanderson Sisters there showed up with veiled threats."
He frowned, a question on his lips that was extinguished by the call of her name.
They both turned to see Crystal saunter over in her flowing silver pants and matching sleeveless blouse. From her ears hung white and silver stars that caught the festival lights.
"Dear, how are you? Oh, and chief," she turned her twinkling eyes to Theo, reaching out a thin hand for him to grasp gently. His large hands holding hers looked enormous, and the feeling Tilly got was that of a great beast gentling to handle a small animal.
"Miss Crystal. How are you doin' tonight?"
"Well, I'm just a strawberry shortcake shy of being perfect. You look handsome. Like a rugged cowboy," she said with a wink at Tilly, who bit her lips to keep from laughing. Or telling her to quit it.
"Thank you, ma'am. You look nice yourself. The stars have nothin' on you."
"Oh, you stop it," she flirted.
Tilly watched with delight, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out when Crystal asked him if he knew how to ride a horse with her eyes wide and her head tilted just so.
The woman could flirt.
And the chief? He was charming. It was an odd sensation to look on watching a man who had occupied more than her waking thoughts, categorizing him as intense, nearly apathetic, immovable, and to see him smile and his dark eyes shine. The way he took care to make Crystal laugh and flip her silver hair was charming.
She could not afford to be charmed by him.
A group of teenage girls found their way to the table, a shock of lightness and mirth trickled through Tilly as she took them in. Four of them, all wearing that look of a young girl on the cusp of womanhood - curious hope with a dash of unyielding boldness. She felt it sink into her. She was taking feelings deeper than usual lately, like they had formed claws and dug in.
Chief Landry took them on, to their delight, and while he was exchanging tickets for sparklers Crystal leaned over the table toward her with her familiar conspiratorial look.
