Grasp Heart

Chapter 17: Hermit Crabs can be romantic

The athletic-geared shop I'd requested didn't initially entice Alissa, but Kira was persuasive... or rather, she simply knew which garments Alissa would adore. Through the clean, ergonomically designed displays and racks she maneuvered with just as much surety as she had in the previous shop. When she draped a pair of rutched-butt leggings over Alissa's arm, I tried to watch closely:

Was her skin making contact with Alissa's? Had she made eye-contact to use vampiric compulsion?

Both questions were negative: Kira had practically tossed the leggings over Alissa's arm. She showed no signs of surprise when Alissa cooed over the selection, but smiled broadly, almost smugly, when she was thanked.

Think!

Mind-reading was unlikely; based on the conversation I'd overheard the night previous, there would've been signs of that in the way they'd spoken with each other. Kira wasn't showing any of the typical signs of a supernatural ability in general; unnecessary touching, leaning in to stare into the eyes, extended periods of concentration - nothing.

I was miffed. If I hadn't overheard otherwise, I wouldn't have pegged her as an abled vampire at all. Perhaps the occasional hesitation she exhibited was a sign of something?

With a shudder, I entertained an unpleasant realization. This was likely another passive technique just as Mason's seemed to be; an always-active type of ability. That would explain why there were no activation tics.

I watched as she stared at a v-line waisted sport-skirt, fingers pinching the fabric contemplatively. Her gaze looked past the design, fingers hesitating in their assessment. Despite this, she flicked the hanger up off the rack and handed it to me.

"Wasn't sure if I'd like it?" I probed.

"I'm still trying to put together your sense of style."

"Alissa has liked everything you've dropped over her arm."

"Alissa's..." she trailed off, looking over her shoulder to check on the other two girls where they were rifling through a pile of capri-length leggings, "...she's easy."

"She's straightforward and maybe a tad mainstream, but there's nothing wrong with that."

"Nothing at all."

Kira glanced at where the menfolk had set up shop on the window-bench to play another hand of Bullshit. Mason's eyes darted up warily.

"You study fashion?" I inquired.

"I dabble; I'm more of a consumer than a manufacturer. That's Anne's forte."

"You'd make for an excellent personal shopper; perhaps for some pop singer?"

"Indie," she corrected, eyes sparkling, "Pop is overrated. And I don't like the way they dress."

"You do seem to like academic to boho styles; I've seen you wear both."

"Boho more in the spring and summer, academic in the fall and winter, but the early fall I'll be a little lenient," she admitted, slowing her dancer's gait to move with the conversation, "You know your stuff."

"I dabble."

"Music, dance, fashion, hiking... Mason's right, you are accomplished."

"It's amazing what you can do when you put your phone down."

She hummed in agreement; a short, distracted noise, then, "What are your intentions with my brother?"

I raised an eyebrow, but tilted my head back just a bit under the guise of thought.