The isthmus was quiet at this hour. The walk was pleasant, no traffic to speak of. More importantly, few people on the street whose thoughts she had to try not to hear. Even with Emily's help, being around other people meant there was always a background hum of noise in her head. Inside their houses, the walls blocked most of it.

She had an apartment in an old house on E. Gorham. The tiny house had been cut up into three one bedroom apartments. Hers consisted of the front parlor, the old kitchen, and a bathroom in the basement that extended under the full front of the house.

The setup seemed kind of weird, but the rent was cheap. And the bathroom had a private stairway, as well as a huge, old, claw-footed tub. She loved that tub. She could sink into water up to her neck, which someone of her height couldn't do in a modern one.

When Mickie had crossed the street onto her block, Emily leaped off her shoulder and disappeared into the bushes in front of the house on the corner. Mickie didn't worry. She knew Emily would catch up by the time she got to her own door.

She never used the front door of the house except to check her mail. It opened onto a foyer with doors to all three apartments, the one beside hers and the one in the smaller, upper story. Instead, she walked around to the back where three steps and a small, private porch led to her kitchen door.

As Mickie stuck her key in the lock, Emily jumped up onto the porch from the side. She had done that every night since the first night when Mickie had found her waiting on the porch when she got home. That had been a year ago, just a week after she started at Mad Town Cab. They went in together.

“Chicken, tuna, or salmon?” Mickie asked, setting her cab bag on a chair and opening the pantry cupboard door.

One shelf was stacked with canned meats. Not catfood, but the same kind of things Mickie bought for herself. Emily had made it very clear, early on in their relationship, just what she wanted in the way of food. Dry kibble was not an option, nor was standard canned catfood. Fresh meat was her favorite, but good quality canned chicken or fish was acceptable.

Emily sat in front of the cupboard, her head tilted to one side. Then she pointed at a can with one white paw.

“Chicken.”

Mickie popped open a can of chicken and set it on one end of the table. Emily hopped up onto the chair, set her front paws on the edge of table, and buried her nose in the can.

Opening a can of soup, Mickie poured it in a bowl and stuck it in the microwave. While it heated she went to the front door and checked her mailbox. Nothing but ads. No bills, at least. The microwave dinged as she came back into the kitchen. She pulled out the bowl, grabbed a spoon, and sat at the table to eat. Emily sat in her own chair and proceeded to wash her face.

“I wonder what happened to the driver.” Mickie mused.

Emily paused in her washing. “Nothing good.”

“How do you know?”

Emily shook her head, her ears making a flapping noise.

“The echoes.” she said.

“Echoes?”

“The mind leaves echoes when it spends time and energy somewhere. The longer the time, the louder the echo.” the cat explained. “A strong emotion or a strong mind can leave a strong echo. Violence always leaves stronger echoes. So does love. Like when you read an object by touching it. You feel the echoes.”

“Oh. I always just thought of as them impressions. Echoes. Huh. That makes sense.”

Mickie spent a few minutes finishing off her soup.

“So what did the echoes tell you?” she asked Emily.

The little cat stared into Mickie's eyes.

Suddenly, it was dark. Hands grasped her throat. A voice cried, “No, no! Let me go!” There was a sharp pain at her throat, then nothing.

Mickie jerked in her seat as the kitchen reappeared in her sight.

“What the...?”

“That was the echo I felt. Well, the surface of it.” Emily told her.

Mickie slumped back in her chair, gasping. She put her hands to her throat, feeling no wounds, no bruises. She was surprised there was nothing there, the echo had felt so real.

“You would have felt it, too, if you touched that cab.” Emily said. “Or if I wasn't shielding you.”

“Holy crap!”

Emily hopped down from her chair, came over and jumped up into Mickie's lap. She stood and rubbed her cheek against Mickie's face. Mickie gently wrapped her arms around her furry friend.

“Don't worry. I will always be there to protect you.” Emily purred.

But Mickie couldn't help remembering finding Ivan's lifeless body in the ashes after the fire. That had been a horrific night.

Emily purred louder, kneading her paws on Mickie's chest.

“Always.” Emily repeated.

Mickie stroked the little cat, gently scratching behind her ears.

Emily was the second “fae” cat that Mickie had bonded with. Her first had been a big Russian Blue named Ivan. She had been only slightly surprised when he started talking to her. She had been hearing the thoughts of animals her whole life. Fae cats were different, though. Ivan was far more intelligent than the average house cat. Heck, he was probably more intelligent than she was.

She had been on the verge of being expelled from high school when she met him. He taught her how to block the thoughts of others by building shields in her mind, and wearing lightweight gloves to insulate her somewhat from physical contact. He helped her make it through to graduation, though she never made many friends.

-)O(-

She dreamed later of smoke and flames, of searching for people behind a wall of fire. Gasping, she crawled across the floor, trying to stay low, under the smoke. In the pizza kitchen she found the cook lying on the floor. She dragged his unconscious body to the doorway where hands grabbed him and pulled him away. She went back in, passing Ivan pulling at the sleeve of another driver.

Mickie searched for the third driver, but could not find him. Turning back to the door, she heard a roar. She looked up and saw a ball of flames falling towards her.

She woke with a gasp, sitting upright in her bed. Emily untangled herself from the sheets and stood on Mickie's knees, stretching her nose up to Mickie's face.

“I'm here! It's OK! It was just a bad dream!” Emily said.

Mickie flopped back down on her back, and Emily walked up and settled on her chest. Mickie wrapped her arms around the grey and white cat, who head butted her chin. It took a long time for her heart to stop racing.

Eventually, with Emily still purring on her chest, she fell back to sleep. If she dreamed again, she did not remember.