The strange tension in the house had grown. Brye and Shery had been keeping their distance, but Noah had not. The mouse visited Mark’s room once a day, usually when she thought they weren’t being watched too closely, and always for an hour or so before she’d leave. The mouse might have attempted to avoid attention, but the others had caught on pretty quickly.

Mark was sure the fox would make a move soon, but in what form he wasn’t sure. He could feel her gaze on him whenever Noah was around. Was she reading his thoughts or keeping her distance? It felt ironic that there would be distance when all three of them were practically locked inside the house. The militia no longer actively patrolled every street in the city, but the psychic that had spread their face across the minds of everyone in the city had kept at it. For the time being, it seemed the heat was still on them, and would take a while longer before they shifted their focus to other things.

And as far as Mark knew, that just meant being in a home with Brye, Noah, and Shery and only so much he could do to spend the time. Reading had quickly become boring, and Noah’s presence in his bedroom was becoming somewhat of a highlight of his day. At first the mice just wanted physical contact, and sometimes it devolved into more. But within a couple of weeks it had turned into nothing else.

No feelings, no affection, just raw tension finding a release valve. Mark’s doubts whether Noah was looking forward to it had mostly vanished when she’d begun entering the bedroom naked. And soon after, she’d stopped holding back the squeaks and moans. Something had still felt slightly out of place, however.

the situation with Noah hadn’t fully clicked for him until the day she’d walked out naked of the washroom and sat at his feet while Brye and Shery had been eating at the opposite side of the room. The mouse hadn’t done anything, even as he shooed her off. But he’d seen it, in Brye’s eyes, and Shery’s. The two maidens had stared fire onto the mouse that did not recoil.

Mark’s eyes widened slightly at that.

And the moment the epiphany ran through his head, Noah winced.

His brows now climbed all the way into his hairline. “You…!”

“Now now.” Brye spoke with a mock chiding tone. “Psychics do love to swim in their owner’s heads when they start getting a feel for their powers.”

Noah didn’t so much wince but glower. Which was something that felt entirely nonthreatening considering she was a pipsqueak of a woman and naked. Thought it was clear now the only reason she was in the position and location, was to use Mark to shield her from the other two.

“Don’t be too angry at her.” Shery calmed down visibly once she noticed the poison in Noah’s eyes. “Or do get angry, guess it depends on how good a cocksucker Noah is.”

“To be fair, she got us good, didn’t she?” Brye exaggeratedly turned to glance at the gray maiden. “Here we are, playing patient and nice, and Noah just pulls the rug.”

“Noah did love getting us to kneel. Maybe he was compensating for something?”

Purple light began to glow around Noah’s body. Mark reacted, reaching out for her ear and squeezing. “No.”

She froze, lowering her gaze.

“Girl gotta learn her manners.” Shery laughed.

“Do you plan to start her training soon?” Brye asked, twirling a piece of bread between her fingers as she looked the mouse over with amusement. “Psychics, particularly those who like being in the heads of their owners too much, can do quite a bit of harm unintentionally if not properly educated.”

“You’d know, as a threshold, right?”

Noah’s words came with all the amusement in Brye’s gaze to vanish. The piece of bread in her hands exploded like a miniature grenade had gone off. A snarl began to peek onto her lips, the energies that pooled around her were not the light purple of Noah’s, but darker and more sinister.

Noah had frozen solid.

There was a knocking at the door.

All heads snapped in focus, and the air had abruptly shifted every ounce of danger in its direction. Mark was almost transfixed as he realized both Noah and Brye had shifted to point their focus and aggression at the door. Neither had reacted to the potential visitor before the knock, and that meant they’d managed to avoid both maiden’s very sharp senses.

Another knock.

“The Boss sent me.” A woman’s voice spoke. “Brye, Shery, Noah, I am to see to our guest.”

Hesitation, Brye was the one to move. She appeared in front of the door, pulling it open. Her eyes widened, tails falling like someone had tied weights on them, ears flattening. “Joyce.” Noah paled at the name, Shery looked grayer.

Brye was moved aside as a blond woman… no, maiden, stepped inside. She had a canine tail as blond as her hair, her skin was pale like chalk, and her eyes a deep amber. She wore a cloak with a hood she pulled off, tossing the brown thing at Brye without even looking in the Nogitsune’s way.

Cold hard eyes fell on Mark and he shot to his feet on reflex, hand reaching for the knife at his hip. If Noah was visible to her, she didn’t seem to take notice. “Catch.” She tossed something from within her robes.

The word was followed by three shrieks.

Mark’s brain reacted a moment later, when he saw the glass black sphere fall to the ground, inert. Everyone in the room held their breath as nothing happened, Mark instantly recognized the device as what had turned Noah into her current form.

“Good.”

Joyce was right in front of him, not having even broken her stride. Her hand reached out for his head and plucked a hair, her movements faster than he could react to let alone avoid. Mark’s gaze moved to the others. All three maidens were staring at the floor, fists clenched, gazes hard, pale as if they’d seen death and not daring to turn in Joyce’s direction for more than a flicker of their eyes.

“What are you-?”

“Wait a moment.” She cut him off, staring at the hair before pulling a tiny metal box and dropping it inside.

Mark could have heard a pin drop from the other side of the house while Joyce’s focus was on the box. Then, the metal turned a deep verdant green and the first emotion appeared on her face.

A smile.

A simple smile.

She raised her gaze from the metal to him. Only then did he realize she had canine ears much like Brye’s, they stood, pointed at him, her smile growing and a chill running down his spine.

“You are pure.”

It was a breathless whisper, the woman reached out and he stepped back, now knife in hand. Joyce’s hand froze mid-way to his chest. The smile vanished, the impassivity of her features returning in a snap.

“Young Master.” She bowed, lowering her head deeply. “I will be coming back in a week’s time. With some equipment.”

At that, the others flinched.

“What do you want?”

“Me?” The woman laughed, a chirping sound not much unlike nails running on chalk. “Why, to save humanity, of course.”