“CAN I FOLLOW UP WITH YOU A MINUTE?” LIVY ASKED MORGAN TRAN, SKYE’S THERAPIST.
Skye had just come out of Morgan’s office in Olympia after her weekly hour there.
“Sure.” Morgan tucked her notebook against her chest. “Skye, make yourself at home. We have some yummy new green tea you can try if you like.”
Instead of fixing herself anything from the beverage counter in the clinic lobby, Skye plucked a Seattle Weekly from the racks and hunched down into a chair with it.
“I won’t be long,” Livy promised her.
Skye nodded without looking up from the newspaper. Livy exchanged a glance with the receptionist, who reassured her with a smile. At least the receptionist knew to stop Skye if she tried to wander off. Lord, the things Livy had to worry about these days.
She entered Morgan’s office, which was soothingly done up in aquamarine paint and cushions, with a splash of orange in the form of Gerbera daisies in a vase.
“Have a seat.” Morgan shut the door and came around to one of the two chairs facing her desk.
Livy sat in the other, appreciating that Morgan joined her there, rather than clinically putting the desk between them.
Livy clutched her hands atop her knees. “Did she talk today?”
“Not much. Still only a few words at a time, mostly just echoing me, though in a way that made sense as an answer. It’s like you’ve said—I think she’s present, just inhibited from communicating with us for some reason. Have you come up with any ideas about what might have happened?”
Livy shook her head. “If anyone assaulted her, I haven’t seen any proof, and she hasn’t said a word. Which isn’t like her.”
“Well, while we hope it’s not that, sometimes a trauma does take a while to surface. Which is unfortunate for the law enforcement side of the issue, where sooner would be better.”
Livy curled her knuckles tight inside the opposite palm. “But it could just be S.A.D. or other depression?”
“It could. It’s a sudden onset and a serious case, but depression works in a lot of different ways. I’ve seen quite a variety of cases. Were you concerned about any new behavior of hers?”
“Sort of. She went out for a walk a few days ago without leaving a note or anything, and it was dark when she got back. When I got home and she wasn’t there, I kind of freaked out. I mean, she seemed mostly okay—tired and winded, like maybe she walked too far. But I feel like I can’t even trust her to leave me a note anymore. I feel like she might just wander off and…not come back. If she went out by herself…I guess, do you think she’s in a condition where I should worry?”
“Sounds like you live in a small town, not a high-crime region or anything?”
“It is small and relatively safe, but…” Livy uncurled her hands and pressed them flat on her thighs. “We do live right up against the Sound. With a marina and docks and bridges. I mean, is there any chance she’d…”
“You’re concerned she might be suicidal?” Ever the professional, Morgan asked even that alarming question gently.
“I would never have suspected it of her before. Not ever. But lately she’s just so withdrawn. She doesn’t shower unless I remind her. She doesn’t eat enough. I think she has nothing but coffee for breakfast and lunch, and only has dinner because I tell her to. She hasn’t said or done anything that’s clearly…suicidal.” Livy had to swallow and collect her strength before saying the word. “But I wanted your opinion.”
Morgan nodded, rolling her fingertips across the cover of her notebook. “I haven’t seen any clear suicidal tendencies either. I would definitely alert you right away if I did. But you know her best and I trust your instincts, so if you’re worried to leave her alone—well, maybe you can ask for help? That way at least you can relax and tend to your own well-being a little more.” Morgan smiled in commiseration.
“Our mom visits sometimes, but not a lot. She lives down in Portland now. And Skye’s friend Jamie comes by once in a while, but she’s got classes and work. Or are you saying we should hire someone? Like a nurse?” Livy winced.
“I wouldn’t say she needs a nurse. Some friendly company, though. Someone who can make sure she’s all right, maybe remind her to eat.”
Livy nodded, though her mind raced desperately through their neighbors and dismissed each one as too busy, too elderly, or too annoying for Skye to want to put up with. There had to be someone.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
As Livy and Skye drove back into Bellwater, they had to stop in the middle of Shore Avenue to allow a tow truck to back a pickup into Kit’s auto shop. Kit stood near, chatting with a heavy-set guy, presumably the pickup’s owner.
Skye’s gaze drifted in boredom across the pavement, then snapped to attention upon spotting the young man who stood waving the driver into the space, pointing and shouting to direct him left and right.
Her stranger from the woods. Her mate.
Warmth flooded her. She felt short of breath.
Livy chuckled. “Well, at least we don’t have to get under that truck. We’re luckier than the Sylvain boys that way.”
“Sylvain.” Skye leaned forward in her seat for a better look.
The guy jogged out of the way while the driver slotted the truck into the garage.
“Yeah,” Livy said. “That’s Grady, Kit’s cousin. He’s in town a while. Apparently he’s a really good cook. He’s looking for a restaurant job in the city.”
Skye watched as he disappeared into the garage to unload the truck. A good cook as well as a good kisser. He sounded nice.
She wondered if the magic would have made a prison inmate sound “nice” to her, however. Because this surely was all due to the spell. Picked him as your mate? Fine, then here’s your mating instinct, it seemed to be saying.
She longed to see him again. Had he been thinking about her? He must have been, given their extraordinary meeting in the forest.
Kit spotted Livy waiting, and exchanged waves with her. Then the tow truck backed its nose out of the street and their path was clear. Livy drove past.
Skye twisted around to watch the garage as long as she could, until they turned the corner onto their street.
Livy cleared her throat. “Grady doesn’t like working at the garage, Kit says. He’d really rather cook. I was thinking it might be nice if I offered him a job, just temporary, like coming over to make us lunch or dinner some days. If he’s interested. I mean, if you don’t mind him being around while you’re there.”
Skye examined her. Livy’s expression was a little too carefully aloof; she must have guessed at Skye’s interest in Grady. Probably from how Skye had been staring.
Livy pulled into their driveway and turned off the engine. “So what do you think? I could ask him.”
Skye dragged her black leather purse off the car’s floor and onto her lap. She looked down at it, winding her fingers into the strap. His kiss. His kind face. His human warmth. The way he had made her feel good when nothing else had for a month.
“Ask him,” she said quietly.