“Uh-huh.”
He nodded. Ineke had a smoking revolver on her left thigh. On the right thigh was a big-eyed caricature of Ineke that had a miniature boardinghouse tucked in her multicolored hair and a necklace made of tombstones. Beneath the caricature were the words “I Bury Trouble.”
There was nothing Other about the Xaviers. They were human. They were just potently Female in a way that was a bit scary. Sometimes a lot scary.
He wondered what it said about David Osgood that the rookie was casually dating Paige Xavier. At least Osgood thought it was casual. Personally, Grimshaw thought fish probably looked the same way when they were well and truly hooked. The only question was whether Paige believed in catch and release or if she didn’t bait the hook at all unless she intended to keep what she caught.
He hadn’t heard any gossip about Dominique, the third Xavier, but that could be because he hadn’t asked the right person.
“So, the kids are doing this little trick or treat on Main Street this afternoon to show off their costumes before sticking to their own streets?” Grimshaw asked, watching four youngsters slowly approach Lettuce Reed. The two boys and one of the girls were teenagers, although not all the same age. The other girl looked like she belonged to the under-ten crowd. The girls wore calf-length black dresses; the boys wore black suits with pale gray shirts. They could have been young humans in costume, except they all had dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin, and that said Sanguinati.
“Wayne . . .” Julian glanced at the four youngsters, then looked at the second-story windows of the police station. Paulo Diamante, the village’s lone human attorney, occupied one office on the second floor. The occupants of the other office, the office that had no name on the door, had a great deal of influence in and around Sproing and Lake Silence—not to mention owning several of the commercial buildings and the bank.
Ilya Sanguinati met Julian’s eyes for several seconds before stepping back from the window.
“You all having a look around?” Grimshaw asked, keeping his voice friendly.
“Yes. Sir,” the younger teenage boy replied. “We are . . . strolling.”
Definitely not a word the boy used every day, and the stilted speech gave the impression he’d had limited contact with humans.
“And observing,” the older teenage boy added.
More confidence in that one—and something under that confidence made Grimshaw’s cop radar hum for a moment before the feeling faded. Could be nothing more than one boy coming across as more mature because he was a few years older than the other one. But it could be something else.
Or he could just be feeling crabby because he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Trickster Night in Sproing.
The four youngsters came to attention as Ilya Sanguinati crossed the street and joined them. It was subtle, but it told Grimshaw that these youngsters were used to obeying their leaders. Or the dominant family member?
“The bookstore is open if you’d like to take a look around,” Julian said.
The youngsters looked at Julian, then at Ilya.
“You may look until Boris arrives with the car,” Ilya said.
Julian stepped aside.
The teenage girl’s shy smile didn’t match the assessing look she gave Julian before she lowered her eyes and walked demurely into the store.
Grimshaw thought, Gods save us all from girls that age, regardless of their species. Then he wondered if that mix of shy and assessing wasn’t just because of her age. He knew how the Sanguinati hunted. Was he looking at a teenage girl becoming aware of her attraction to men—or was he looking at a predator who used sex as bait?
And how could he pose that question to Ilya Sanguinati without offending the leader of Silence Lodge?
“Family come to visit?” Julian asked.
“You could say that,” Ilya replied. Then he hesitated, and Grimshaw realized this was one of those moments when he would learn how much trust he and Julian had earned with the Sanguinati.
“The shadow of Sanguinati at Silence Lodge is not currently raising any young of its own,” Ilya continued. “Under such circumstances, youngsters from other shadows might be fostered for a time in order to further their education and gain experience that is not available in their home territory.”
“Like interacting with humans the adult Sanguinati consider safe?” Julian guessed.
“Exactly. Such opportunities are unusual for the young, and Silence Lodge, like the Lakeside Courtyard, has been deemed such a place. It is an honor to be considered in this way.”
Grimshaw had the impression that Ilya didn’t feel the least bit honored. “If you let the girls acquire any knowledge from Paige Xavier, you are on your own dealing with the consequences.”
Ilya looked startled. Julian choked on a laugh.
“I was thinking of introducing them to Victoria,” Ilya said after a moment.
Oh gods. Look what happened when Vicki and one juvenile Crow became friends. The thought must have shown on his face, because Ilya suddenly avoided meeting his eyes.
“Ah, there is Boris.” Ilya sounded relieved—and looked a wee bit pale.
As if summoned, the Sanguinati youngsters filed out of Lettuce Reed.
“Sir?” the younger girl piped up. “Is it permissible to purchase books?”
The adults, human and vampire, hesitated. Probably because none of them knew which “sir” was supposed to answer the question.
“Yes,” Ilya said. “But not now. Mr. Farrow is closing early for Trickster Night. We will return tomorrow.”
They crossed the street as Boris, Ilya’s driver, opened the back door of the black luxury sedan.
One by one, the human-looking youngsters changed into a column of smoke and flowed into the back of the sedan. When four columns were inside the car, Boris closed the door. Ilya got in front on the passenger side, and Boris settled behind the wheel.
“Adults in front, children in back,” Julian said. “Not so different from humans.”
Grimshaw saw plenty of differences, and he wasn’t looking forward to talking to Ilya about not allowing the youngsters to snack on the tourists—or do anything else. After all, one of the reasons the Sanguinati helped keep Sproing afloat was to have a supply of transient meals. And since the adult Sanguinati could give lessons in romantic seduction, most of their prey didn’t connect a love bite with an extraction of blood.
It said a lot about Ineke Xavier and Helen Hearse that they served plenty of iron-rich foods at their establishments to counteract the languidness that was a natural part of the rest and relaxation experienced by some of Sproing’s tourists.
They’d given him that explanation at different times and in slightly different ways when he’d observed the change in some hyperactive tourists. But only Ineke had pointed out that the languid women had a particular smile the next day—a smile she hoped that he, as a man who had enjoyed female company at some point in his life, recognized.
He had changed the subject and never brought it up again. At least, not where any Xavier could hear him.
“I’d send Osgood over tomorrow so you wouldn’t be alone with the Sanguinati girls, but he’s already in over his head,” he said.
“I know how to be careful. With women, anyway.”
He let that comment hang in the air and said casually, “You going to The Jumble this evening?”
Julian nodded. “I was invited to the party Vicki is holding for her guests, and I gather all the residents are going to participate in the treat part of Trickster Night. I heard that the academics who are staying at the Mill Creek Cabins are also invited in order to observe the Others, but their invitation came with a BYOF-and-B addendum.”