Home Improvement: Undead Edition

The Strength Inside MELISSA MARR

When Chastity bought the only house on the cul-de-sac with several acres between her and the nearest neighbor, it wasn’t an accident. Privacy was a priority. At the time, her plan seemed sound. At the time, she hadn’t yet met the Homeowners’ Association or their subcommittee, the Architectural Review Board.

“Well?” Alison prompted when Chastity walked into the kitchen with the mail. Unlike Chastity, her sister was in comfortable jeans and a longsleeved shirt. The dirt on her cheek—and the muddy footprints on the floor—told Chastity that her sister had been gardening again.

“Another form.” Chastity clutched the latest ARB letter in her hand. By now she could recite the first paragraph: The River Glades Community prides itself on high community standards. As such any and all exterior architectural alterations must receive approval of the Architectural Review Board. Please submit the attached form to JUSTINE sixty days prior to the date upon which you would like to begin any alteration, addition, removal, or other visible change.

Chastity forced herself to release her grip. She laid the paper on the kitchen counter and smoothed it out. “Every damn form includes the same paragraph. It’s like it’s their letterhead.”

“What do they want this time?” Alison unbraided her hair, finger-combed it, and twisted it up into a loose ponytail while Chastity read—and then reread.

Chastity made a growling noise before saying, “Sufficient neighbor signatures from . . . any house with direct line of sight with or without foliage.”

“Umm.” Alison walked to the door, opened it, and pointedly glanced to the left and right. “They do know we are the last house, right?”

“I’m sure they do.” Chastity kicked off the ridiculous low heels that she wore to work. Her skills were more about focus, so office work made sense. If it didn’t include such uncomfortable clothes, she’d be far happier. Alison floated from job to job when Chastity said they needed more money, but she couldn’t hold a job that involved too much time indoors. Chastity, for better or worse, was content in closer spaces.

Which is why we need both a house and a big yard.

For a moment, the sisters stood face-to-face in their kitchen. It was a lovely space. Beautiful granite countertops, sleek stainless steel appliances, and black tile with black grout. Greenery hung from the ceiling, lined windowsills, and clustered along all of the walls. Like much of the house, the kitchen was as close to an exterior space as possible—but without too many wild creatures or insects. Through the open door, Chastity could see the yard that was Alison’s passion. It was well on its way to resembling a formal garden that had been allowed to grow wild. Alison had the admirable ability to persuade most every plant, shrub, or tree to thrive even when they weren’t native. The result was a fabulous space filled with wildlife and ample places to hide.

“It’s worth fighting for,” Alison reminded her. “I could persuade the woman if you say the word.”

Chastity pushed away the mental image of the conversation her sister would have—or she herself would like to have—with the ARB chair; the process was made easier by the fact that she’d not yet met Justine. She shook her head. “I can do this.” She paused for a moment, scanned the form again, and looked at her sister. “How many signatures are ‘sufficient’? How do I know that?”

“You could always go to the committee meeting and ask.” Alison widened her eyes in faux innocence. “Take a covered dish, perhaps?”

Chastity flipped her little sister off. “We’re trying to get along here, Ali, not encourage the neighbors to show up with pitchforks and torches.”

Alison shrugged and stepped away from the still-open door. Given her way, she wouldn’t ever close the doors. “So, go fill out your paperwork. I’m going to read.”

“Don’t let the littles con you into treats because of fake hunger pains while I’m out,” Chastity reminded Alison. “They need to learn to schedule their meals.”

After a derisive snort, Alison wandered farther into the house. Somewhere in the plant-filled rooms, their siblings hid in dark shadows, but she pretended—for their amusement and hers—that she was unaware that they stalked her. In human years, and to the casual observer, the children appeared to be young teens, but as Bori they were the equivalent of toddlers—precocious toddlers, lethal toddlers, but toddlers all the same.

Like some mammals, a Bori’s physical growth meant they had strength far beyond their emotional growth. If the littles were left in the wild, they’d be mistaken for feral children—such nestless young were the source of the human stories about children raised by wild animals—but Chastity and Alison weren’t going to let such a fate befall their siblings. A very long time ago, the sisters had struggled as parentless Bori; they’d lived in the old ways.

Which is exactly why we won’t fail the littles now.

Despite their considerable longevity, few Bori were left in the world. Too often over the centuries humans declared them demons and murdered them, caged them as freaks in carnival sideshows, or destroyed their habitats. Protecting young Bori from such horrible fates was daunting. Chastity whispered a silent Thank you to whichever deity had granted her Alison as a sister. She could’ve handled the littles without extra help, but having Alison there made it far more manageable. Alison was maternal in a way that made her playmate as much as authority. Chastity, on the other hand, wasn’t fun. It simply wasn’t part of her skill set. There were plenty of things that Chastity considered as skills she possessed: she was a hard worker, kept her promises, killed easily, and generally could get along with just about anyone. She might not genuinely like seven out of ten of the people she smiled at, but now that blending was important for survival, faking friendly was essential.

Faux smile in place, Chastity took the papers in hand and went out to start knocking on doors.

“CAN I HELP you?” The older woman stood in the open doorway, not inviting Chastity in but not refusing to answer the door like the people at the first house.

“I’m Chastity. My sister and I bought the house at the end of Eden Street.” Alison held up the paper. “I’m trying to get approval for a fence for my younger siblings.”

“And Miss High and Mighty said no, did she?” The old woman lifted the glasses from her chest, where they dangled like a necklace. “You know, she tried to tell me I couldn’t have azaleas up front. Azaleas! Who ever heard of azaleas being an issue?”

“I think they’re lovely.”

“Well, of course they are.” The woman took the pen and paper from Chastity’s outstretched hand. “I had to hire a gardener in order to get approval. That woman needs a job, or a hobby, or something.”

Chastity smothered a laugh while the woman signed Mrs. Corrine A. Kostler on the form and held it out.

“You might as well skip the Hinkeys.” Mrs. Kostler pointed toward a red brick colonial that sat kitty-corner from her house. “They do whatever Justine says. Edward files complaints on me right regularly. You just wait until he wants me to sign a form. Ha!”

Wisely, Chastity made a mental note to never anger Mrs. Kostler—and to invite her to tea. Maybe even a human meal. The food humans ate was peculiar, but there were things that Chastity could stomach. The littles would have to eat early, but we could work it out.

“Did you want something else?” Mrs. Kostler prompted.

“No, ma’am.”

The old woman took her glasses off, smiled, and announced, “You’re not half as weird as Justine said you were, girl. I should’ve known. Go talk to the others. Not the Hinkeys, mind, but the Valdezes and the Johanssons are decent enough.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chastity nodded. She paused. “Thank you.”

“Don’t step in the grass this time. I have a sidewalk for a reason.” Mrs. Kostler scowled. “Bring those children for cookies some afternoon.”

Then she closed the door before Chastity could reply.

Like Mrs. Kostler, the rest of the neighbors seemed friendly. They looked at the signatures on the form, made a few comments—mostly polite small talk, but more than a couple bitter remarks about Justine—and signed. After the fourth house, Chastity figured she might as well keep knocking. More signatures couldn’t hurt her case.

WHEN ALISON ARRIVED at the builder’s office the next day, she was reassured. She had been discreet in her inquiries. Chastity isn’t the only one with a plan. Once she’d narrowed in on the builders in the area with the sort of specialization skills they required, the choice was immediately clear. Damek Vaduva had achieved an odd, almost cultish following for his designs, but he also provided the more traditional building skill she needed. Unfortunately, his reputation for design made it near impossible to get a meeting, so Alison had to persuade the receptionist that she had, in fact, made an appointment but the poor dear had forgotten to enter it into the book.

What Chastity doesn’t know won’t hurt me.

Alison shook her head. “I can reschedule.”

“No, no. It’s my mistake, and Mr. Vaduva had a cancellation earlier, so he’s in. Maybe I told him, but didn’t add it in my book. I’ll go in and tell him,” the young woman murmured. Then she nodded to herself, apparently pleased that she’d resolved the dilemma satisfactorily.

“It’s not a problem if he’s busy, I can reschedule—”

“No, of course not!” The woman stood. “We were having such a lovely chat when you called that I must have forgotten.”

Alison didn’t know how much she could reorder the woman’s mind and Damek’s, so she glanced at the nameplate: DARLENE. Names helped.

“Since you’ve already told Mr. Vaduva I’m here, I will just wait out here for our appointment.” Alison motioned to the overstuffed burgundy leather chair in the corner. “You go on to your lunch, Darlene.”

The receptionist frowned briefly as her mind tried to assimilate the revision of reality that Alison was forcing on her. Then, she nodded, picked up her purse, and came around the front of the desk. “That does make sense, doesn’t it?”

“It’s always lovely to talk to you, Darlene . . . Goodness, it feels funny to call you that whole name after the things we’ve discussed.” Alison leaned close enough that Darlene’s little human heart pitter-pattered like a bunny on speed. “You will tell me if you decide to be more than, well, curious. Won’t you, Dar?”

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.

“So you keep saying. The littles and I are not enough for you. You do not want a Bori mate, so you should select a human for a while. He is striking if you like males.”

Pointedly ignoring her sister, Chastity returned to the fridge. “Did you want to go out for dinner or have leftovers?” She rummaged around and found an opened jar of red sauce. “I could do a casserole.”

“Please, gods, no.” Alison sniffed the air. “I smell you. If you expect to sneak up on both of us, you need to bathe more often, Remus.”

A low growl came from the living room.

“And not react to every barb, sweetie,” Chastity added. “Ali has a much better nose, so I wouldn’t have known she was right if not for the growl.”

The growling boy in question made a noise that sounded like a chuff.

The sisters exchanged a look, and while Alison’s head was turned a black blur came at her from the other doorway. Chastity started, “Al—” but before the second syllable, the blur in question had toppled Alison and the chair she was in.

Perched on Alison’s chest was a feral girl with almost solid black eyes and dark snarled hair. The girl tilted her head at an inhuman angle and stared at Chastity. She snapped her mouth in a self-satisfied way.

“Human words, Rave.” Alison reached up to ruffle the girl’s hair—and got a sharp snap on the wrist for it. “Clever thing, aren’t you?”

Raven preened a little.

Chastity shook her head. “He agreed to being the decoy?”

For a moment, Raven pulled her stare from Alison to Chastity. Then she opened and closed her mouth. In a scratchy voice, the child said, “Bigger share of dinner.”

“Clever,” Alison repeated.

WITH A HAPPY yip, Remus charged into the kitchen. Chastity’s edict against shapeshifting was helping the children learn to appear human, but their behavior was still more animal than human. Alison was grateful that she was the younger sister, though; she wasn’t entirely sure she had the confidence to make some of the family decisions. Chastity’s choices were akin to laws, so it made for a family without conflict. Luckily, their eldest sister was also realistic.

Remus leaned his body against Chastity and butted her hand with his head. His skin was smudged with dirt, but his hair was damp and leaf-free. She suspected Raven had groomed his hair again. Gently, Chastity murmured, “You will bathe in water later.”

“Hate water.” Remus looked at her beseechingly. “Used words. No water?”

“Maybe,” she said. For all of her attempts at mainstreaming, Chastity still remembered that they weren’t human. She lectured, and she reminded, but she didn’t expect them to change entirely. If Alison were more curious, she might ask her sister if there was a master chart or spreadsheet where the number of admonishments and praise was measured out.

Alison watched her sister and the littles with a sort of peace that they hadn’t always known—the sort of peace they were going to ensure for the family. Not all nests are created equal. This particular nest was one she would fight to protect.

“So, about Damek,” Alison started.

The littles were unconcerned. Raven remained perched atop Alison, and Remus sat beside Chastity with his eyes closed contentedly. Chastity herself was suspicious. She leveled her gaze at Alison. “I’ll talk to him, but the fence is the first priority.”

“Sure, but the unfinished rooms downstairs—”

“Ali, we’ve talked about this. The money has to go to the fence first. I will get it approved. Getting the fence in, then spelled, and”—Chastity had stopped petting Remus, and he whined plaintively—“the inside is not the priority this year. Maybe next year if money is available.”

“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 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?”

“Come meet him. Then call your committee. Maybe afterward you can talk to Damek. He’s been nattering on about some architectural trip that he’s leading . . .”

“Damek. You call him Damek?” Justine whispered.

“We come from the same place.” Alison shrugged. “Not family, mind you, but we have an old connection.”

Alison saw Chastity stiffen at the mention of Damek coming from the same place, but she did not ask the question she so obviously wanted to. She wouldn’t in front of outsiders.

“Come downstairs, Chas.” Alison held out her free hand. “You should meet Damek.”

Silently, Chastity accepted Alison’s hand. She squeezed it briefly, and then she opened the door to the basement. “I’m glad we’re able to work this out, Justine.”

“Of course.” The ARB chair sounded positively friendly now. She smiled as she started down the stairs.

AT THE FOOT of the stairs, Chastity stood silent as Alison introduced Justine to Damek Vaduva. She wasn’t prepared for the way he looked at her; the familiarity of his assessment made her blush like a far younger Bori. He didn’t speak to her, not yet. Instead he listened as Justine gushed at him, senseless words about his artistry, about how she had tried to get an appointment but was callously rebuffed.

“It’s almost unfortunate,” Chastity said quietly. She caught her sister’s gaze. “You didn’t tell me he was from home. I didn’t know there were any traditional builders here.”

“You can tell me to cease,” Alison reminded her. “You make the final decisions.”

Chastity folded her arms and looked from the builder to her sister. “Mr. Vaduva?”

“Damek,” he corrected. “To you, I am only Damek.” He caught and held Chastity’s gaze then as he added, “It is an honor to work in your nest.”

“Their nest?” Justine echoed. “Oh, the house. In English, it is house. A nest is what animals have.”

Damek motioned for Justine to come closer to him, but his gaze remained fixed on Chastity. “Do you wish me to do this work?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment when neither Bori nor builder moved, and then Damek turned to Justine. “Come here.” He pointed into the section of the wall that had been torn open. The drywall was gone, and a peculiar stone-and-wood structure was now alongside the original studs. The stone wall was already built almost knee-high.

“You see the beams. They are good beams. A structure must have the right support.”

Justine leaned forward and looked into the partially built wall. “I see.”

“No. You must come closer.” Damek stepped over the stone and stood in the opening. He laid one hand on the beam. “Inside is the support. This is where the strength comes from. In here.”

Then he stepped out and motioned for Justine to step into the opening. Obediently, she did.

“Look there . . . to the side.” Damek stepped closer, invading Justine’s space, and bodily blocking her exit from the partially built wall. He pointed. “Do you see the weakness of the beams? They need more support.”

Once Justine was looking away, Damek made a gesture at his side with one hand. Alison tugged on a rope, pulling a board from above Justine and releasing the sludgy mix Damek required. It poured over Justine, who shrieked as she lost her balance.

“You idiot!”

“Hold still.” Damek reached out with both hands, but instead of steadying her, he wrapped his hands around her throat and squeezed.

Eyes widened in fear, she stared at him as she clawed at his arms.

Once she crumpled, Damek looked toward Chastity. “You must hold her up.”

With one hand, Chastity pushed Justine backward until her shoulder was flush against the exposed beam behind her. Damek took Chastity’s other hand and put it on Justine’s throat. “Squeeze if she wakes.”

Damek knelt at Chastity’s feet and continued building the wall. He hummed softly as he worked, and he paused only to look admiringly at Chastity—who pretended not to notice.

Justine was walled in up to her hips when Chastity finally allowed her to stir. “What are you doing?” She pushed against Chastity’s grip. “Stop.”

“Support matters,” Damek told her with a frown. “My buildings . . . they never fall. You say you want to understand. You are learning a secret now.”

“No.” Justine slapped at them with hands caked in the clay mixture and scratched Chastity’s arms. Her fingernails gouged Chastity’s forearms, leaving behind tiny red cuts atop the thin scars already there.

“I share this secret.” Damek frowned. “Many years ago people understood. Now? Things have changed.”

Chastity nodded and shoved Justine more firmly against the wall. The ARB chair struck Damek and clawed at him, scraping her now-broken fingernails on his face. She grabbed Chastity’s wrists, bruising them. Damek and Chastity ignored her.

“They have. It’s not that I can’t appreciate the benefits, but I worry. The littles are so young, and this world . . . It was different before. I worry—” Chastity stopped herself.

Damek paused. “I understand.”

As they stared at one another, Justine shrieked and struggled against the stone, brick, and spell-laden mortar that now encased her legs. “You people are sick. You can’t do this. People will notice. It’s—”

“People never notice. Sacrifice helps buildings,” Damek said.

“I won’t tell. I will sign your fence form and—”

“No,” Alison interrupted. “We needed someone with strong emotions. You are the right person for this job, Justine.”

There was a flash of sorrow in Chastity, but not so much that she would fail to do what must be done to keep her nest safe.

While Damek worked, he said, “People see that my buildings are good. They write the articles. Now, I build for people with money, and when it is important, I build some special things in the old ways.”

“No!” Justine tried futilely to dislodge the stones and bricks. “This isn’t happening.”

As Damek worked, the only sounds other than the grate of brick against brick or tool against stone were those of Justine’s mix of screams, objections, and pleas. Then, even those faded, and only the rhythmic scrape of tools remained.

Chastity watched the bricks as Damek built them up around the exhausted, yet still weeping ARB chairperson. Quietly, she spoke to Justine. “It is for the good of the community. You understand that, don’t you?”

Justine lifted her head and stared at Chastity. “You’re a monster.”

“Yes.” Chastity nodded. “Not so different from you. You wanted to protect your community from fences and divisiveness . . .” Her words drifted away for a moment as she realized that she felt strangely sad. “I understand now. We both are trying to protect what we believe in. I have to protect my nestmates. The littles need safety, stability, a home . . . and you are helping provide that for them. Our home will be safe from any damage now. It cannot be broken into. Even our windows will not break.”

“You’re insane,” Justine said wearily.

Only her head was still exposed.

“No.” Damek lifted a trowel of mortar and carefully spread it on her face. “My buildings are safer. You make this building strong. Your rage. Your sorrow. Your death. It is good. Strong feeling from you and for you.”

He lifted several more trowels of mortar, and Chastity scooped it from the trowel with her fingers and packed it around Justine’s face and smoothed it into her hair.

The littles had come into the room at some point and now sat nestled against Alison’s body in the middle of the floor. Raven was tucked under one arm, and Remus was curled on the other side.

“You wanted to make a difference, to be noticed, to be important. You have been. You will always be important to us now, Justine.” Gently, Chastity covered Justine’s eyes.

The last couple of tears had left tracks in the mortar on the ARB chairperson’s cheeks. Chastity left them there.

She stepped back, looked at her sister and at the littles. Then she nodded to Damek.

Silently, he finished strengthening the building. Each brick and every stone he placed solidified its security and strength.

When he was done, the sisters and their young siblings went up the stairs, and Damek began humming again.

SEVERAL DAYS PASSED as Damek continued his work in the house. On the third day, Chastity found another letter in the mail. Nervously, she clutched it in her hand as she read the first paragraph: The River Glades Community prides itself on high community standards. As such any and all exterior architectural alterations must receive approval of the Architectural Review Board. Please file the attached approval FOR FENCE CONSTRUCTION for your records.

She smiled.

“What does it say?” Alison came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her sister.

Chastity held up the paper so they could both read it. “They’ve approved our fence!”

Alison let out a whoop of triumph, and the littles came careening into the room.

“I told you it would all be okay.” Alison bumped her shoulder against Chastity’s. “The littles will have their safe home and safe play yard.”

“We owe thanks to Justine.” Chastity nudged her sister back. “And to you.”

Remus bumped his head gently against her hand. “Go catch yellow birds now?”

At that, Raven and Alison exchanged a worried look, but Chastity smiled at him and then said, “If you keep eating them, we won’t have any left.”

“Is a feeder though,” Remus complained. “Feeder is for food.”

Chastity laughed. “True. We need to mark the fence line anyhow. Come on.”

And the sisters led their younger nestmates into their soon-to-be-fenced yard.