With no room to escape, I block instead, my arm flying up to stop his, the pies falling to the floor as someone gasps. I think they’re gasping because this guy is attacking me. Or maybe even because I dropped the damn pies. But then I see faces turned my way, the shock on them, and I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in a glass cabinet door, and I see me. Mallory. Oh, it’s Catriona’s body, but the expression is my own, a cold rage that stuns everyone except the guy attacking me.
