For a moment, Alison wondered if she’d overtaxed the poor human girl. Judging how much reality alteration they could take was always tricky, and some biases were a bit more deeply seated than others.
Then Darlene tore a piece of paper, scribbled a number on it, and pressed it into Alison’s hand. “Oh, yes! It feels so liberating to even admit it.”
Alison almost laughed in joy. Humans could be so unexpected. A relationship might be a fun way to mainstream. Being a Bori meant that one had a regular need to be needed; most of that need was satisfied by adopting and raising a pair of young Bori the way the sisters had, but there was something very satisfying about being needed in other ways.
She reached out one hand as if to touch Darlene’s cheek. She held it there until the bunny heartbeat went from bunny-on-speed to bunny-on-speed-with-a-crack-chaser. Once Darlene seemed ready to burst with tension, Alison brushed her knuckles over the girl’s face. “Sweetie, you haven’t even started feeling liberated.”
Darlene blinked, but said nothing.
“Go on with you, Dar. I have work to do.” Alison shooed her out the door, admiring the way the girl added an extra sway of her hips.
Definitely worth pondering a relationship.
Once the door was closed, Alison walked over, flicked the lock, and took a moment to herself. Keeping the appearance of a human while exerting influence could be a tricky thing. Utilizing influence made a Bori’s eyes revert to their natural oblong shape which, sadly, tended to attract attention. It also had the strange result of making far too many humans unsettled even when they couldn’t see the Bori’s shifted appearance. For a young Bori, exerting influence precipitated a form shift. Typically, for most older Bori, only the eyes changed, but there was always the chance of a more complete shift—and explaining why there was a wolf or an enormous bird where a human had just stood could be awkward. Alison hadn’t slipped in years, but she did try to adhere to Chastity’s insistence on mainstreaming, enough so that these little sessions were all the more exhilarating for their rarity.
Unnecessary if we just moved home where we belong.
However, the unfortunate truth was that Chastity was right: the littles were growing up in a world where global awareness had changed everything. So few places were truly sequestered, and by the time the littles were on their own, Alison couldn’t imagine how the world would’ve changed.
A century from now, they’ll need to be able to assimilate far more than they would be able to if we stayed away from the humans.
When the sisters were hatched centuries ago, it wasn’t so unpleasantly difficult to nestle away in a village or mountain. By the time they were ready to take mates and have young of their own, the telephone had changed things, but it was the Internet that really was ruining things. Her youngest nestmates would need all the tools she could provide if they were to survive in the future that loomed.
Alison rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and concentrated on making her features both human and attractive. Her eyes hadn’t recolored, but they tingled as they tended to when their shape started reverting to her natural oblong pupils. It would be easier if she could force her eyes to hold a human shape, but unlike Chastity, Alison could master that trick for only a short time. Alison resorted to contacts, which felt unpleasantly tight as her pupils reshaped.
She slipped her cell from her side pocket as it buzzed. A text from the littles read: “Need kibbles.” It was immediately followed by a second text message: “Rave lies. Caught yellow birds at Chassys feeder. No kibble.”
Alison smiled as she texted back: “Bury evidence. Do NOT eat all Chastity’s finches.”
Not all technology is bad.
The littles had responded well to the terseness of texting. They didn’t yet like to use words if they didn’t need them, but they did so when they needed to communicate with either of their elder sisters—or in cases where they wanted to talk to only one sister, typically when they needed to talk to Alison without Chastity knowing.
The next text read: “Three bird? Chassy sleeps now.”
Alison grimaced at the thought of the littles eating too many of Chastity’s finches and replied, “Only what you caught so far.”
And that’s why we live in this area. If they lived in the city where the littles had to steal house pets or try to find disease-free rodents, their diets would be a mess.
Resolved, Alison opened the door between the waiting area and the builder’s office. The man at the desk didn’t look up. He was darling for a male human: muscular, sun-darkened skin, a few pleasant scars on his exposed forearms, and old enough to be skilled at sex. Perhaps a relationship for Chastity would be wise, too.
Alison tapped her long, lacquered nails on his desk as she assessed him. He still didn’t lift his gaze, so she murmured, “Mr. Vaduva? Mr. Damek Vaduva?”
“I am Damek.” The man looked around with the gaze of one who was not expecting anyone to be in the room. When his gaze settled on her, he frowned. “Well, your sort don’t usually come to the office.” He pushed his chair back from the desk and folded his hands together. “Darlene is safe?”
“She is.” Alison sank into the cozy chair in front of Damek’s heavily carved desk.
She opened her handbag and pulled out a cloth. She didn’t hesitate, despite the difficulty of coming to terms with what was wrapped inside it. She laid it on the desk. “I have a job for you.”
To his credit, Damek did not unwrap the bundle in front of him. “Tell me.”
Alison weighed her words with the same care she used in selecting the right stones from the earth. “I need my home made stronger. I can provide the materials.”
“Everything I need will be there?”
“Yes,” Alison agreed. “Everything.”
Damek leaned back. “Then I will come next week.”
SEVERAL DAYS PASSED calmly, and then another form arrived. That night, Chastity tore open the mail with a scream that might’ve caused concern if not for the sound-dampening spell they’d had the foresight to get for the house.
“Good day at work?” Alison called from the kitchen.
“I hate Justine with an unhealthy degree of enthusiasm.” Chastity didn’t bother trying to hide her irritation. Outside, she had to be sweet, normal, all of those pesky mainstreamer things, but in the house, she dropped the façade. “If she had any idea what happened to the last woman who—” Chastity stopped herself as Alison came to the doorway and gave her a bemused smile.
“We could move somewhere remote,” Alison suggested.
“No. Times are changing. The littles must become socialized.” Chastity took three calming breaths and walked into the kitchen.
Alison shrugged. “Now what?”
“Samples. We need to get samples.” Chastity stared at the paper, reread it for the third time, and then tossed it on the table.
“Of?”
“Any and all building material visible to those in the community.” Chastity closed her eyes and began counting very slowly in her mind. One . . . two . . . three . . . I can do this . . . four . . . five . . . mainstreaming is good for the littles . . . six . . .
Alison snorted. “Damek is to be here in two days. The builder I said was coming? I think you’ll like him.”
“We don’t have the money, and I don’t have time to like anyone, Ali.” Chastity pulled open the fridge and got out several cardboard boxes. There were fresh bloodworms, a partially eaten chickadee, and at least half a squirrel left over.