He’d picked up the human’s scent--a scent smoked with his Master’s power, though less so than usual--lurking on the gallery’s borders. That was bad enough, but then the gnat had the gall to crawl in. January wasted no time in riling the guard’s paranoia to detain the annoyance. He’d almost succeed, too; another couple of minutes and the man would’ve booted out the nuisance.
And then Mischa, his lovely, sensible, precious Mischa, had appeared to welcome the boy! Had smiled at him! Had touched him. Was still touching--holding--him!
Invisible and increasingly outraged, January watched his charge and her parasite, and stewed.