“No.”
At that, Justine’s polite demeanor slipped a little. “Oh, I haven’t noticed the bus stopping here.”
“It doesn’t.”
The ARB chairperson pursed her lips and blinked, as if forcing clarity to come to her. “Do you drive them? They don’t look old enough to drive themselves yet.”
“No.” Chastity moved to the side so she could see the littles.
“So . . .” Justine prompted.
“We homeschool.” Chastity gave her a tight smile.
The temptation to ask for more information vied with the natural discomfort most people experienced when they were confronted by the littles. Justine’s gaze darted to them, and then back to Chastity. “Why did you say you moved here again?”
Chastity’s dislike for Justine boiled inside her, but she wasn’t ready to completely give in to it. She kept that anger out of her voice and said, “Children need yards. Fenced yards. In the city, we didn’t have enough space for their growth.”
“They seem a bit old for you to worry about fences,” Justine said.
Charity briefly imagined telling Justine exactly how much trouble a pair of young Bori would inflict on their area. Her tiny sweater-clad dog is lucky to be alive still. Bird feeders all look like buffets. She forced her tone to remain level. “Nonetheless, we need a fence.”
“I see.”
The littles exchanged a look that conveyed how truly they believed that Justine did not see.
“Would you like to have a seat?” Chastity belatedly remembered that keeping a guest standing in the foyer was not friendly.
No matter how much I study humans, I still slip up.
She gestured for Justine to precede her into the small living room to the left of the foyer. It was more conservatory than living room, but such a thing wasn’t terribly peculiar; a lot of people had greenery-filled homes, maybe not to the degree that they did, but humans brought nature into their homes, too.
Chastity tensed as Justine took a seat on the settee, but aside from pursed lips, the ARB chairperson made no note of the thick plastic that covered the furniture. It crinkled noisily as she shifted on it.
“I was getting ready to water the plants,” Chastity lied. And the littles have released several squirrels in the house again, she added silently.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t want the furniture to get damaged,” Chastity continued. By the children disemboweling squirrels. There was something oddly disconcerting about trying to make small talk, but the habit of adding silent truths typically made it more palatable. Today, it wasn’t helping.
After as friendly a smile as she could muster, Chastity broached the subject of the fence. “I have the materials to bring to the meeting. I’m hopeful that we can resolve this and—”
“I doubt it, Miss Faolchu. I simply don’t see that a privacy fence is conducive to fostering a healthy community.” Justine folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t think we need to start walling ourselves into little territories.”
“Really?” Chastity’s temper slipped a bit. She felt the pressure in her eyes, but she held on to the human shape of them. It wasn’t that she had a short fuse, but the nitwittery of the ARB had frayed her nerves.
Justine waved a hand. “We don’t control who buys the houses here, but I do have a measure of control over this community. It is my privilege to protect it from threats.”
The rustle of leaves behind Justine revealed the hiding place where the littles waited. Their presence went far to remind Chastity why she was doing this—both controlling her temper and mainstreaming.
They deserve a home.
“There you are, Chas.” Alison walked into the room. “I wanted to tell you that Damek arrived while you were out and discuss the schedule for the next step, but here you are . . . and with a guest.”
Alison smiled in such a disturbingly friendly way that Chastity realized that they were not going to resolve this politely.
At all.
Before Alison turned her attention to Justine, she walked over to stand beside Chastity, put one hand on her hip and the other on Chastity’s shoulder, and said, “Rave? Remy? I see you.”
The littles came out from behind a cluster of leafy potted plants; their movements were in perfect synchronicity. Raven tilted her head, and Remus stared fixedly at Alison. They didn’t move away, though.
“Why don’t you go find us something interesting to eat?” Alison said softly.
The littles zipped toward the door too quickly to be mistaken for anything remotely human. Chastity pursed her lips, but said nothing.
Justine’s eyes widened. “They’re . . . quick.”
WITH HER TEMPER barely hidden, Alison turned to face the human who had caused such turmoil in the nest. “Oh, you have no idea.”
She was a perfectly serviceable human. Her hair was a soft brown, and her eyes were a glimmery blue. Like the rocks I can’t ever find. Alison tilted her head and assessed the woman further. She trembled some; fear was such a primal thing.
“I probably should go.” Justine’s voice quivered so slightly that it was almost unnoticeable, but Alison had spent centuries reading the nearly imperceptible cues of humans. Justine continued, “I simply wanted to stop in and let you know that there is no need for you to attend the meeting.”
She stood and then paused.
“Stay. I’d like to discuss the fence.” Alison stepped toward Justine. “My sister is surprisingly . . . normal. She dates males, works in some sort of . . . What is it you do, Chas?”
“Technical writing.” Chastity obviously heard the dangerous edge in Alison’s voice; she came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Alison.
“Right. Tedious normal things. I, however, am not quite as civilized.”
“Alison.” Chastity reached out for Alison’s hand and pulled her away from Justine. She smiled reassuringly at the now visibly nervous human and said, “Please forgive my sister. She’s a bit overprotective.”
Justine looked from one to the other. “I don’t think I like your attitude, Miss Faolchu.” She visibly composed herself. Her shoulders straightened, and she smoothed her sleeves down. “I will be going now.”
“No. I don’t think you should, Justine.” Alison glanced at Chastity and said quietly, “Leash me or step back.”
Chastity shot her another quelling look, but she did not order her to stop.
Alison looped an arm around Justine’s waist. The ARB chairperson stiffened and attempted to pull away, but Alison kept her arm where it was. “Did Chastity tell you about the work Mr. Vaduva is doing? Today is his first day here, but we’re very excited about the project.”
At that, Justine paused. “Damek Vaduva? Here?”
“The same.”
“I’ve seen his work in Architectural Digest and Metropolitan Home and . . . He’s a genius.”
“Would you like to meet him?” With her free arm, Alison gestured toward the stairway leading to the lower level.
“Justine has a meeting to attend,” Chastity said.
Alison glanced at her sister. “Of course . . . the meeting. Chastity is going to that meeting, too. Maybe you could ride over together. She’s hoping to petition the board for approval for the fence, so maybe you could discuss it on the way.”
Justine looked toward the stairwell. “I suppose I could miss one meeting.”
“I don’t think that’s fair,” Chastity said. “If you aren’t even there to hear my petition—”
“You can talk to me while I’m here,” Justine amended. “I was the only one objecting, but I can see now that you have good taste . . . perhaps, I could reconsider my stance. I mean, if Vaduva is here. He is really here?”