“Well, of course, I do. I’ve touched you multiple times in the last few minutes and your death isn’t imminent. As long as you’re alive, things are going to be all right.”
They opened the door to the administrative trailer, finding a much more subdued Leonard at the front desk. His hair was tidily combed, and he was wearing a slate blue shirt and tie. She’d never seen him wear a tie before. He rose from his seat at the sight of them. “Ms. Canton, Mr. O’Connor. You don’t have an appointment, is there something I could do for you?”
“I need to speak to Jillian, please,” Cordelia said as steadily as she could manage.
Before Leonard could respond, Alex emerged from Jillian’s office door. “Cordelia? I was hoping to speak to you.”
“Are you meeting with Jillian?” she asked.
“No, that’s his office now,” Jillian said. “I’m doubling up with Sonja until we can find some space in one of the lower department buildings.”
Cordelia glared at Alex. “You took her office?”
“Now that’s a dick move,” Brendan murmured.
Alex looked vaguely offended, but Cordelia said, “Agreed.”
“Could we please talk, Cordelia?” Alex asked.
“No,” she seethed, turning to Jillian. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” Jillian motioned for Cordelia and Brendan to join her in Sonja’s office.
“Cordelia, please—” Alex said.
Brendan turned and said something to Alex in Gaelic that sounded charming, and yet, very, very threatening. Alex stopped in his tracks and Brendan closed the door behind him. Sonja’s office was smaller and less cluttered than Jillian’s, save for the garden’s worth of carefully potted plants surrounding her desk. Jillian reached up and closed the vents and the blinds.
Cordelia’s carefully constructed shell she’d kept up in Alex’s presence crumbled and she sank into Sonja’s chair with a thunk. Jillian hovered in front of her, not quite touching her, then pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t talk just yet, OK?”
Turning off her laptop and unplugging her phone, Sonja held up a small black box with two parallel lines of blinking lights on its plastic cover. She walked around her office in a grid, waving the box around, holding it close to the vents, her desk, her bookshelf. When the box offered no response, she nodded to Jillian. “We’re clear.”
“What the bloody hell was that about?” Brendan asked.
“The door is soundproofed, but ever since Alex and Messina showed up with their brute squad, we’re a little paranoid about surveillance,” Jillian said. “They’ve taken a much more aggressive approach to this ‘occupation’ than we expected.”
“Actually, paranoia seems rather sensible,” Brendan admitted.
“Honey, what’s going on? You’re all pale and cheesy-looking,” Sonja said.
“I think I’m going crazy,” Cordelia whispered. “I keep seeing my mother around town and I know it’s not possible. I mean, the probability is just below microscopic. But I’ve seen her twice now, and…am I going crazy?”
“I’m going to hug you, just prepare your shield OK?” Jillian wrapped her arms around her and squeezed. She didn’t feel much, just warmth, probably from the blue flames that enveloped Jillian in her phoenix form, enveloping her like a blanket of protection. It was all Cordelia could do not to burst into tears right there.
Sonja, who had been preparing a cup of tea with a shiny electric kettle behind her desk, pressed the hot ceramic mug into her hand. Cordelia nodded in thanks, wrapping her hands around a cup that said “I am my own superpower.”
“Is it possible maybe you’re just stressed out, or maybe your gift is manifesting in some wonky way?” Jillian asked. “The rift has been known to change the way magique’s gifts work.”
“Maybe? That’s sort of the problem with psychic powers,” Cordelia said, shrugging. “There’s no way for me to measure that without touching her to make sure she’s really there, but she’s always out of reach, disappearing before I can do anything.”
“When have you seen her? Give me details,” Jillian said.
“Right after we arrived, I saw her outside my window. It was only for a second, and I thought maybe I was stressed and imagining things,” Cordelia said. “Or maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me. And then today, she was on Main Street, in broad daylight, staring at me with that awful look on her face she used to have right before she was going to talk me into doing something I didn’t want to do.”
“But she didn’t say anything to you, try to communicate in any way?” Sonja asked.
Cordelia shook her head. “No, just the smirking, which was her main means of communication, anyway.”
“If it was really your mom that you saw, do you think she would hurt you physically?” Jillian asked.
“Well, she’s definitely not going to make me smiley face pancakes and braid my hair,” Cordelia muttered.
“Do you think it’s possible that you have seen your mother?” Jillian asked. “Maybe someone in the League, one of those sabotaging factions we talked about before, brought her here to mess with you?”
“Well, anything is possible,” Cordelia told her. “Messina threatened to tell my mother where I am if I don’t meet his deadlines for progress with the casket.”
“What a dick!” Jillian exclaimed, her eyes flashing an eerily brilliant sapphire while a crown of flames formed around her temples.
“Sweetie, you said you didn’t want to introduce profanity to the womb,” Sonja reminded her. “Also, you’re on fire.”
Breathing deeply, Jillian smiled gently at the swell of her middle and stroked a hand over it. The blue flames faded back into her hair, leaving the scent of ozone in their wake. “Honey, Mommy’s sorry, but I would hope that after you’re born, when you see someone being a dick, you call it like it is!”
Sonja looked to Cordelia, jerking her head towards Jillian. “By comparison, you’re not that crazy.”
“I heard that,” Jillian told her.
“But, she is right; that was far more dickish than taking over someone’s office space,” Sonja said.
“It’s not that bad, honestly,” Jillian said. “I’m glad to hand the reins over to someone else, even if he is a dick. Here lately, I can barely keep up with the work while the baby sucks all of the energy out of me. I’m much more suited to the community liaison role.”
“But who’s going to keep Adam McTeague from dominating all of our meetings?” Sonja asked, then shook her head. “But back to Messina. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like this to scare you into compliance.”
Jillian pondered this for a while and added, “Or, when you think about the patterns, the big picture, maybe he doesn’t want the rift issue to be fixed. Maybe he’s messing with you because he has no real interest in seeing the rift repaired, no matter what he says. He’s sabotaging you while adding extra stress by demanding results because he has a vested interest in the rift staying unstable and getting worse.”