“Mom!” he said, and my laughter stopped immediately at the serious tone of his voice. “What’s wrong with Sasha?”
The dog stood at the window now, her nose pressed against it. Her all-white back and sides began to show shades of her lykora stripes. Dorian hurried over to her to see what she saw, but the hair on the back of my neck already began to rise.
“What’s out there?” I managed to ask over the lump in my throat.
“Two babes getting out of a taxi,” Dorian said. “They have funny hair, though. One’s blue and the other’s purple.”
I blurred to the window. Crap. Crap, crap, crap.
“Dorian, you need to go to your room now. I’m sure you have more studies to do,” I said, kneeling down to rub Sasha’s back. Ridges where her wings would come out rubbed against my fingers, and her smell of baby powder filled my nostrils, stronger than usual with her heightened awareness. “It’s okay, girl,” I whispered.
“But I want to meet the pretty girls,” Dorian whined.
“Maybe later,” I said absently, watching the faeries as they paid the cabdriver. “Now go.”
I picked up Sasha and whispered in her ear. “Protect.”