Home Improvement: Undead Edition

“Chas?”

“It’s not like I don’t want them to have a better—”

“Chastity!”

“What?” Her sister resumed petting Remus, who had become unsettled by the tension in the sisters.

“I have the money.” Alison held up a hand to forestall any questions. “Damek will be here to assess the site in two days. All you need to concentrate on is the fence. I have this.”

For a strange moment, Alison felt the weight of all three of her nestmates’ stares. Raven and Remus were experts in nonverbal communication, and Alison’s studied lack of expression was obviously fascinating to the littles in a way that words or gestures rarely were. Remus prowled closer and sniffed her; Raven tilted her head from one side to the other. The littles exchanged a look, then studied Chastity. Remus chuffed at his sister, and she released a screech that only Remus could understand. Then, the littles gave both sisters their renditions of assuring affection. Remus licked their hands, and Raven rubbed her forehead against their shoulders. With no signal that Alison and Chastity would recognize, the littles vanished into whatever dens they had elsewhere in the house.

Once they were gone, Chastity sighed. “They’re still sleeping in the rafters in the attic.”

“They’ll be fine.” Alison reached up and laced her fingers with her sister’s. “We weren’t that verbal so young.”

“I know.” Chastity looked at her. “Do you miss the not-words?”

“Sometimes, but what I really miss are the tufts of fur you’d drag home from whatever you’d killed. We had a fabulous nest.” Alison thought longingly of the way they’d lived before Chastity decided they had to mainstream. The nest was a true nest then. They’d had a cave with shiny bits of stones that she’d found, and the warm-soft pelts that Chastity brought.

It was so much easier.

Quietly, Alison said, “But we made the right choice.”

“We?”

Alison laughed. “Yes, we. If you think I didn’t choose it, too, you’re spending too much time around humans. I’m here. That means I chose it.”

“Thank you.” Chastity squeezed her hand. “Do I need to ask where the money came from for the repairs?”

Alison shrugged. “I brought a few of those shiny rocks from the old nest. Humans make them into body ornaments. I gave them to Mr. Vaduva.”

“You used some of your gems for payment?” Chastity’s mouth hung open oddly on the last word. When she realized it, she closed her mouth with an audible smack.

“Go find your samples. The ARB meeting is in two days.” Alison paused and rubbed her forehead on her sister’s shoulder as she had when they hadn’t learned words yet.

ON THE DAY of the meeting—the same day that Damek Vaduva would arrive at their nest—Chastity stood examining a white brick, a small bucket of some sort of masonry compound, and a three-inch sample of the metal rods that would reinforce the brick. She thought they had pretty good odds—and then the doorbell rang.

She looked through the peephole in the door to the thin, perfectly made-up woman, and she knew without a doubt that this had to be the ARB chair. The artifice that was conveyed in every detail of the woman’s outfit was proof enough that no matter what form they filled out, no matter how innocuous—or logical—the request, it wouldn’t matter. This was a woman who cared for appearance. Her clothes were the sort of poorly chosen frocks that admitted that the wearer didn’t dress for her personal style, but for the society-approved idea of fashion. If Chastity knew anything about designers, she would be able to be falsely impressed, but the idea of being concerned with brand over style made no sense to Chastity.

“You have got to be joking.” She sighed, affixed a smile, and opened the door.

“Miss Faolchu?”

“Yes. I’m Chastity Faolchu.” She stepped aside. “Please come in.”

Behind her, Chastity heard the littles. She glanced over her shoulder as Raven and Remus crept down the stairs. They perched on the edge of the landing midway down the staircase. Neither spoke. They stared at Justine.

Justine had stepped into the house. The expression on her face was polite, but the tone of her voice was chilly. “I didn’t know you had children. Do they go to a private school?”

“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