Handshake raised his hands in surrender. “Nothing much. I merely enforced the contract that we agreed to. As long as everyone abides by the terms stipulated, we will all get our just remunerations in the end.”

“What’s that even mean?” Teddy asked. “Use normal-people words.”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Handshake said. “As long as you protect me, and your Boss tells me what she knows about our current target of curiosity, then I’ll be obliged by my power to fulfill my end of the bargain. Likewise, you’ll want to fulfill your own end.”

“What?” Emily asked.

“It’s nothing too bad,” Handshake said. “My power will help you carry out your end of the bargain. Little nudges and hints. And it’ll discourage you from purposefully failing to meet your obligations.”

“How?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “A bit of foreboding here, some twitching there. Nothing too intrusive.”

“I can give you plenty of foreboding if you want,” Athena said. She was glaring at the man, and Emily had the impression the lights in the little conference room were turning dim and the shadows in the corners were elongating.

“Hey now,” Handshake said. His smile remained, but his voice did waver ever so slightly. “You’re meant to protect me, not attack me.”

Athena huffed, and the room snapped back to normalcy so quickly that Emily wasn’t entirely sure she’d actually noticed anything.

Handshake looked at his wrist and hummed. “We should get going. We’re a minute shy of when our meeting is meant to begin, and I don’t want a reputation for being tardy.” He adjusted his jacket, shifted the tie beneath a little, then patted down his slacks before heading for the door.

Emily felt her fists tightening by her side, and she wasn’t sure what to do or, for that matter, what she was feeling.

How could he just spring that kind of thing on her and expect it to be okay? She . . . she was angry? Not angry-angry. Emily wasn’t the sort to throw fits. Those always attracted way too much attention, and Emily had never handled attention well.

When she was angry, at least when she was angry when younger, she would just bottle it away and let it fade. That was the calmest way to deal with it.

But then, she’d never been angry because someone was threatening her and her sisters.

She shook her head. Summons, not sisters.

“Come on, girls,” she said. If she didn’t have a choice, then she didn’t have a choice. It still left a bad taste in her mouth and made her stomach roil in displeasure. Emily didn’t know what she would do. Even a strongly worded comment felt like too much, but she . . . she didn’t like being taken advantage of.