Clotho bit down on the inside of her lip to stop herself from crying out as the knife broke her skin, but she couldn't stop a small whimper from escaping as Theon's lips brushed her bosom, tasting her blood.
Be calm be calm be calm. It had become almost a mantra in her head, in time with the frantic pounding of her heart. Be calm be calm.
"Step. Away."
Lachesis' voice was all ice. It came from behind Clotho, from the doorway to the shop's back room, wherein the Measurer stood. In her hands was Atropos' double-barrelled shotgun. Lachesis had never entirely approved of keeping firearms on the premesis, but now she levelled the gun without a hint of hesitation at Theon's head. Atropos had appeared beside her, unarmed but for a pair of wicked shears.
Neither would slow the Phonoi for too long. But they might be just enough to distract the boys from Clotho - lure them in. The ladies might be little match for the daimons of murder down here, but if they could just draw them upstairs, up to where the Loom worked steadily... well, there the Crone's shears could do some true damage.