She’s lemons and chamomile. Still delicious, but not pure Maeve.
“Is that bad feeling still there?” I ask, holding open the door to the rescue for her.
She shrugs. “Yeah,” she admits. “I’ve had these thoughts before, though. It used to be when I was little, with Avery. I would worry something bad would happen to him, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That sensation is back.”
“I’m sorry, babe. That sounds awful.”
“It was. It is. I don’t know why this is happening.”
“I can stay with you for a bit, if you want. My shift isn’t starting for another fifteen minutes. I could help with?—”
“No, that’s fine,” she says, smiling softly. “I can busy myself with refilling food bowls or something. Or kitten therapy.”
“There’s always time for kitten therapy,” a voice says, and Piper enters from the back, smiling. “We have three vocal tabby brothers that could use some snuggles, Maeve. I can handle everything up here.”
“Getting paid to cuddle kittens,” I sigh. “I wish.”
“You get paid tosavekittens,” Piper reminds me. “And as a result, said kittens get cuddles.”
“I’ll be back,” Maeve says softly, her smile a little too forced. My heart sinks when she enters the cat playroom and shuts the door behind her.
Blair enters from the back, nodding at me in acknowledgment. “Have you two seen Alvin?” she asks, frowning. “I haven’t seen him in a bit.”
“Not since this morning,” Piper says easily. “Probably napping somewhere.”
“Probably,” Blair nods. “Still, keep an eye out. He’s not in the back.”
This wouldn’t be the first time Alvin has gone missing. Usually, he’s found a new place to perch, a box to hide in, or an almost invisible space to crawl through.
I glance at the kitten playroom, where Maeve sits in the far corner on a chair. Three small kittens are cuddled close to her chest, and her eyes are closed as she breathes deeply.
I catch Piper watching her, worrying her lip.
“Can I talk to you?” I blurt, before I lose my nerve. “I have a few minutes before my shift.”
I want some clarification about what happened with Avery and Maeve. Piper has known Maeve longer, and I’ll take any other perspective I can on my scent match.
Fang and Logan are both worried after she canceled the plans last night, and I’m hoping to have some answers for them.
Apparently, Piper knows exactly what I’m referring to, because she nods. “Absolutely. You want to go outside?”
“I’ll be up here,” Blair says. “And I can distract Maeve if she gets nosy.”
But one more glance to Maeve, her back turned to me, and I can see how disconnected she is from everything else but the kittens.
I doubt she’ll even notice we stepped out of the building.
“Sounds good,” I say, holding the exit door open for Piper. She leads me to the far side of the strip mall, away from the window that Maeve could potentially see us from.
I don’t think she has any intention of spying, though. She was lost in a trance, breathing slowly and deeply with the kittens pressed to her chest.
But that little crease was still in her brow, the one I just couldn’t smooth out.
My stomach sours.
“You want to tell me what’s going on with her?” Piper asks once we’re out of earshot, and I raise an eyebrow.
“I was hopingyouwould tellme. What happened with her brother? Because suddenly, we’re not moving into the packhouse anymore. Everything is slowing down; which I’m fine with.” I point to my chest. “I’m happy with whatever she wants, Fang is impatient but understands, and Logan is just confused. And none of those changes happened until she talked withyourmate.”
