Wolf eyes, chapter 4

Zita woke that morning to arguing six-year-olds. One of the girls was screaming at Sammy about a hairbrush or something while the third triplet stood to the side clutching a stuffed dragon. Zita forced her eyes open and stretched out her limbs. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and gave her back one last stretch, and with a series of pops she was awake. The triplets didn’t seem to notice she was even in the room as they continued their shouting match, so she left the room.

When she stepped into the hall she was almost run over by a group of kids running with paper airplanes and making buzzing sounds with their mouths. She dodged out of the way and made her way down the hall, not entirely sure where she was going until she ran into Emily. The vampire girl was walking on the ceiling, apparently having a problem with the ground, chatting with a cyclops boy on the ground.

When she spotted Zita Emily smiled and waved her over. Zita gratefully obliged and soon she had joined the conversation as well, learning, by the time they made it to the dining room, that the cyclops’ name was Gregory, and that she had missed breakfast. Perfect.

“So,” She said after that revelation had sunk in, “where can I get something to eat?”

Emily laughed, “Technically, we aren’t supposed to eat outside of mealtimes, but…” Her eyes twinkled mischievously, “I may have a solution to you little delemah,” Zita raised an eyebrow. Emily smirked and took off down the hall, leaving the other two to chase after her. Emily turned and dove through a doorway at the end of the hall and Zita followed after a second later, Gregory on her heels.

The room had to be the oddest thing Zita had seen all week, and that was saying something. The ceiling was done up like an obstacle course of some kind, with random curtains and wooden blocks bolted up at random. A bed sat in one corner, partially visible through the mess of randomly patterned curtains that hung all over the place. Emily was presumably somewhere in the mess, but for now Zita was distracted by the collection of items from all different eras that cluttered up the floor. Zita spotted glowing amulets strewn haphazardly onto ancient looking trunks, old gowns that looked like they hadn’t been worn for centuries, and a whole bunch of other knick knacks, some which Zita recognized, others she didn’t.

Suddenly, Emily dropped from behind a tacky looking shower curtain with little smiley faces dotted all over it. She skipped past Zita and swiped a particularly unconventional looking gown off one of the trunks and tossed it to the side. “Now, I’m only showing you this because you’re new and, no offence, way too skinny,” She fiddled with the suspiciously modern looking padblock for a few moments before it clicked open and she tossed it aside. The trunk opened with a small squeak of protest from the hinges. Emily dug around in it for a second and brought out a stack of brightly colored packages labeled with the names of various snack foods.

She dropped the stack on the ground and gestured for Zita to sit with her. She obliged and Emily took the package off the top, a blue one with pictures of a black-and-white cookie on it and the word ‘Oreos’ proudly displayed on the top.

Emily pulled the flap open with a rippp and offered over the box, “Want some?” She said, waving the rows of cookies under Zita’s nose. Zita frowned down at the box and tentatively took one of the snacks. Emily grinned and took one of her own, but didn’t eat it.

Zita nibbled at the corner of the circular treat, not entirely sure of herself. Emily seemed satisfied and opened her cookie up, scraping off the frosting with her teeth before munching on the rest. Zita decided to mimic her and discovered the sweetness of the frosting was a bit more than she was ready for. She choked and swallowed it down, glaring down at her traitorous cookie.

Emily laughed, nearly spitting out her second cookie. Zita turned her glare on the vampire. Emily tried to calm herself down but just ended up bursting into another fit of giggles. Eventually, though, she managed to choke out, “Sorry I-” she laughed, her face turning slightly pink despite her sever lack of blood, “I forgot cyr were sensitive to sweet-” she laughed again until she was gasping for breath before finally calming herself down, “Sorry, I forgot,” She repeated once she had caught her breath. Zita glowered, but her eyes were laughing along, though she would never admit it.

“So,” Emily said after a moment, “do you have any hobbies?” She asked, picking up another cookie.

Zita shrugged, “Not really, I’ve been trying to learn magic, but my... family wasn’t exactly supportive of that goal,”

Emily seemed to sense the venom in her tone and answered in a light tone, as if to diffuse it, “Well,” She chirped, “I have spell books from every century dating back to the ‘Dracula’ era,” She took a bite of her snack, “I could teach you a few things,”

Zita raised an eyebrow, “‘Dracula’?”

Emily’s eyes bugged out of her head, “You’ve never heard of ‘Dracula’!” She exclaimed. She shook her head at Zita’s clueless expression, “Nu-uh, we’ve gotta fix that, el-pronto,” She dumped her snacks back in the trunk and took Zita by the arm, dragging her through the maze of curtains despite her protests and plopping her down on the bed. Emily rifled through the plain looking nightstand, grumbling something about a proper education, and produced a worn old looking book.

She presented the creased old book like it was made of gold, “May I present,” she said dramatically, “the greatest book of all time,” Zita rolled her eyes at the dramatica and gingerly lifted the book from Emily’s icy hands.

“What’s it about?” Zita asked, trying to make out the cover.

Emily hopped onto the bed, “It’s basically about this guy who goes to the manor of count Dracula, finds out he’s a vampire, and tries to escape,” Emily was practically bouncing on the bed, “It’s supposed to be a horror novel, but I just think it’s hilarious. I mean, yeah, vamps were kinda like like that at the time, but Drac himself was a sweetheart,”

Zita raised an eyebrow, “How old are you?” She asked, only after realizing it was probably rude.

Emily laughed, “I lost count, but I was born in Chorismagia back when knights were huge,”

Zita’s mouth dropped open, “But then why are you in the teen lessons?” she asked dumbly.

Emily shrugged, “Review I guess. It gets boring around here, might as well do something, right?”

Zita tilted her head, “I mean, yeah, but…” she shrugged. Emily smirked and tossed off her floppy hat, which was apparently secured to her head with a strap around her chin, and ran her ivory fingers through her carmel hair.

“Well then, anyway, I’m not going to let you take my book, but I’ll read it to you,”

Zita let out a breath of relief and nodded, “Okay, yeah, let’s do that,”

Emily’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “What are you hiding,”

“I- what- n-nothing,”

Emily folded her arms over her chest, “Uh-huh, yeah, right. Tell me.”

Zita blew a strand of orange hair out of her face, “Really, it’s nothing,”

Emily slammed her hands onto the soft blankets and leaned forward so her face was inches from Zita’s, “I don’t believe in nothing,”

Zita leaned away from her, “I-I can’t read,” She mumbled with her eyes downcast.

Emily’s eyes widened, “What!” She cried in outrage, “How do you not know how to read?!” Zita gave a half-hearted shrug, not really wanting to upset the vampire further.

Emily hopped off the bed and planted her hands on her hips, “Well,” She declared, “I’m going to fix that,” Before Zita could protest, Emily was once again dragging her to an unknown destination. They wove their way out of the room and back into the hall, all the way downstairs to a doorway next to the stairs, which opened to reveal, wait for it, more stairs. They clambered down the steps into the dark basement which was apparently abandoned, in stark contrast to the busy nature of the rest of the house.

Emily flicked on a lightswitch and a set of dangling fluorescent lights flickered on. The floor was plain concrete, the ceiling unfinished, and the support beams dotted the area. But the interesting part was the bookshelves lining every inch of wallspace. There were books everywhere, stuffing the shelve to their greatest capacity, in stacks on plain fold out tables, some were even piled into corners in the shapes of houses or domes.

Emily skipped into the room and turned to Zita, her arms spread dramatically, “This,” She said with a theatrical spin, “is the haven,” Zita choked back a laugh at Emily’s ridiculousness and glanced around the room, not entirely sure how surrounding her with books she couldn’t read would help with the apparent catastrophe that was Zita’s inability to decipher them.

Emily trotted over to one of the bookshelves and pulled out a thin book with an exaggerated cartoon on the front cover, “Here,” She said, thrusting the book into Zita’s hands

Zita flipped it open and scanned the pages. It was clearly a children's book, with those same exaggerated, and often impossible, cartoons drawn onto each page in a way that illustrated the story, which appeared to be about a humanoid cat with a red-and-white hat.

“And what, exactly, am I supposed to do with a children's book?” Zita inquired, shutting the book.

Emily took it back, “I’m going to teach you to read it,” She said excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Zita raised an eyebrow, “Uh...huh...sure,”

Emily rolled her eyes, “Do you have to be so difficult, come on, I’ll show you,” She ran off with the book, rounding the corner and vanishing from sight. Zita sighed and followed after her after a moment of consideration.

She found Emily seated on a book throne, the children's book balanced in her lap and her arms on the armrest made up of what looked like stacks of romance novels, her back exaggeratedly straight and her nose in the air as if she was about to give a long, dramatic speech on the importance of rules. Once Zita rounded the bend, however, she couldn’t keep a straight face, and burst out laughing as soon as she saw Zita’s eyebrows shoot up.

Zita walked over to the book throne, shaking her head, at this point it was apparent Emily was going to be a drama queen of the highest degree. Emily flipped open the kids book and gestured for Zita to sit on the wobbly stack of mystery novels next to the throne. Zita obliged and peered at the book over Emily’s shoulder.

“Now,” Emily began in her best teacher voice, “we are going to start with the basics,” and so they did. Emily launched into her little version of a reading lesson, a version that involved lots of hand waving and dramatic impressions, but it was effective, and soon Zita found that she could read the first few words of the book. At one point, Emily went to fetch some paper and a pen, then she started teaching Zita the letters and punctuations until she could write her name and some basic sentences.

Eventually, Kivvien’s voice echoed through the basement, “Em!” He called, “Do you know where Zita went? It’s almost lunch time,”

Emily snickered, “We’re back here Kiv,” She called with a roll of her eyes.

Kivvien’s head popped out from around the bend, “You girls making out back here or something?” He teased.

Emily rolled her eyes, “I’ve been single for the last thirty years Kiv, you really think I would be able to seduce some poor girl on my first try?”

Kivvien smirked, “I don’t know, did you,”

Zita was bright red, but she managed a snarky tone, “Shut up Kivvien,”

He grinned and walked over to the girls, “What are you doing down here?” He asked, looking around at the ridiculous number of books.

Emily closed the notebook they had been writing in and set it aside, “Reading, Kiv, what else,”

Kivvien shrugged, “Imani wants Zita upstairs so she can set her up with the usual stuff,” He said, his eyes shifting to Zita, who nodded in understanding and stood.

Emily followed suit, “Alright then, meet me in my room when you’re done, okay?” She said to Zita.

Zita finished brushing herself off and nodded, “Yeah, sure thing,”

Kivvien offered an arm, which Zita took, and led her upstairs.

The main floor was hectic, as Zita was beginning to realize was the norm. She and Kivvien nearly tripped over a group of toddlers playing with foam blocks on the floor, and they had to duck to avoid being nailed in the head with an enchanted paper airplane. Kivvien laughed it off and led her to the kitchen, where Imani was preparing another ridiculously large meal, this time it looked like pizza and garlic bread.

Kivvien knocked on the doorframe as they entered, “I brought Zita,” he called over the din.

Imani turned to them with a kind smile, the pizza cutter in her hand dripping a bit of sauce on the floor, though Imani didn’t seem to notice.

“Hello dear,” She greeted and handed to cutter to a nearby teen and indicated the pepperoni pizza with a wave of her hand, “I just wanted to ask if you would like to switch rooms?” She asked, “I know the triplets can be a handful,”

Zita nodded, “Yeah, maybe I could share with someone my age?” She asked, shrinking a little at her own words.

Imani smiled, “Of course dear, I believe you’ve been getting along with Emily?” She asked.

Zita shot a warning look at Kivvien, who was grinning down at her with a raised eyebrow, and responded, “Yeah, we get along,”

Kivvien snorted and Zita glared.

Imani raised her eyebrows at the exchange but didn’t comment, “Well, I believe we could move an extra bed into her room if that would work for you?” Zita nodded in answer and kept glaring at Kivvien, warning him to keep his mouth shut, even if nothing happened, Kivvien seemed the type to twist the events so it seemed like something did.

Imani turned around to take a pan of garlic bread out of the oven, “Well, you can find some spare cloths and toiletries in the closet upstairs, second floor, second door on the left of the stairway. There’s a shower in each restroom, and there is one of those on each floor,” She waved them off with her free hand as she turned around with the steaming tray, “Now go on, I don’t need more people in the kitchen than necessary,”

Kivvien gave a respectful nod, “Yes mam’,” And guided Zita out of the kitchen.

As soon as they reached the stairway Zita shook herself free of Kivvien’s grip, “I think I can manage from here, thanks,” She said, sarcasm lacing her tone.

Kivvien didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed, “All right then, I’ll see you around then,” He gave a two fingered salute and vanished into the mob. Zita rolled her eyes and climbed up the stairs.

She found the closet easily enough and selected some petrichor scented shampoo and conditioner, along with a matching body wash and feather wash, as well as a wing groomer, figuring she might as well make her ratty wings presentable at least. Once she had those necessities she grabbed a few selections of clothes, deciding, now that she had the option, she might as well develop her own style. What could she say? She was a bit of a drama queen. After that she found the abandoned third-floor bathroom and locked the door.

As she was peeling off her layers of plain, dirty, cloths she felt a sting as she tried to pull her arm out of her sleeve. She hissed in pain and moved slower, peeling the sticky material away from her skin to reveal the red smudges the black fabric was hiding. The source was a gash, about six inches long, along her forearm, starting at her wrist and stretching toward her elbow.

She tossed the ruined shirt to the white tile floor and examined the wound. It wasn’t deep, really only a scratch, but she still wondered how she could have failed to notice it. She found some paper towels in one of the white cabinets and cleaned it out as well as she could before running the water in the shower and letting it run over her hand. She waited until was practically boiling her hand before she got in and let the scorching hot water distract her from the doubtful thoughts that tried to creep up on her from the silence.

Her efforts were in vain. Soon her mind was consumed with doubt. It was too easy, that little voice at the back of her mind whispers, they want something. No one would take you in that easily.

She gritted her teeth, Shut up.

But it continued, You don’t deserve this. You’re a runaway. They were your family. You never should have left. You can never go back now…

“Shut up!” She exclaimed aloud and clapped a hand over her mouth. She listened for a sign that someone heard her. After a tense moment of hearing nothing, she went back to scrubbing suds into her hair.

You’re going to have to run away from here now, too,the voice continues. She gritted her teeth and scrubbed harder. You aren’t going to be accepted here. She washed the soap from her hair and rubbed in some conditioner. They’re going to kick you out.She let the conditioner sit and started working the dirt from between her feathers. You’ve never been good with kids, you’re going to make them hate you.She washed out the conditioner. You can’t cook or clean, they’ll see how worthless you are and make you leave. She washed her body, scrubbing off several layers of skin along with whatever grime had worked its way through her layers of fabric. You- she turned off the water and the voice went silent.

Zita wrung the water from her hair and shook out her wings before stepping out of the shower. She used one of the fluffy white towels she found in a cupboard to dry herself off before confronting the pile of multicolored fabric in the center of the room. She kicked her old clothes out of the way and knelt beside the garments.

She selected the item at the top of the pile and held it out in front of her. It was a short dress, made of a soft, lime green, material, with a choker-style neckline and short T-shirt style sleeves. The back was open and zipped up until the back of her wings, which was ideal, but she discarded it anyway, it wasn’t her style. The next item was another dress, made of a thicker material in deep maroon. It had a strip of fabric acting as the neckline, but beyond that, strips of the fabric criss-crossed down to the main top, which was a solid piece of fabric, but it gave way to the criss-crossing straps once again over the midriff and stopped at the skirt. The back was the same as the dress before and the sleeves stopped just before the shoulders. Zita smirked. Why not? She thought and stepped into the garment.

She struggled a bit with the zipper, but otherwise the dress fit. A small miracle, she guessed, but she wasn’t going to complain. She whipped the steam off the mirror and caught her breath. She’d seen her reflection before, in the dirty mirror in the shared bathroom in her old house, but she’d never seen herself dressed in clothes that fit, with her hair and wings washed, and without that hint of dread and stress in her eyes she hadn’t even realize was there until now. She liked what she saw.

Zita shook herself from her reverie and went back to the pile, selecting a simple black wing cover and pulled it on, having less trouble with the clasps this time, and made sure that none of her feathers were showing before unlocking the door and walking into the hall with her things gathered in her arms. She found her bag in the triplets’ room and put her things in there, then returned the clothes to the closet and made her way downstairs, following her nose to the gigantic meal, all set out on the table like a king's feast.

Zita licked her lips and dodged past the other kids to the food. Everyone seemed to be just taking their share and going off to eat it elsewhere, so she followed suit, grabbing two slices of pizza and a piece of garlic bread before she was pushed back by the crowd.

Zita heard laughing and looked up to see Emily, munching on a piece of pizza while she stood, upside down, on the ceiling. Emily smiled down at her, “You look great!” She commented and finished off the crust.

“Thanks,” Zita said, self conscious smoothing out the knee-length skirt.

Emily jumped down and landed gracefully at Zita’s side, “No, really, that dress looks awesome on you. Why didn’t you tell me you were so thin?” She asked with a grin.

Zita crossed her arms, “You didn’t ask,”

Emily’s grin widened, “Are there any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me?”

Zita raised an eyebrow, “Maybe you should find out,” She challenged.

Emily cocked her head, “Perhaps I will,” She accepted.

Without either girl noticing, they had made their way outside and were now standing, face to face, on the porch. Emily gestured to the yard with a gloved hand, “Would you like to go on a little walk with me?” She asked.

Zita’s eyebrows scrunched together, “But, won’t the sun…” she trailed off.

Emily shrugged, “Only if the light reaches my skin,” She reached in the door and grabbed a wide brimmed sun hat with the words ‘Just chillin’ embossed on the brim, “I’ll be fine. Let’s check out the barn, the little kids never go in the loft,” She hopped up on the rail.

Zita shrugged, “All right, beat ya there,” And she took off down the steps. Emily laughed and leaped over the rail, taking off after her at an increasingly quick pace. Zita didn’t so much as glace behind her to check Emily’s position. Instead, she listened to the quiet sound of her footsteps on the soft grass and her near-inaudible panting. Zita quickened her pace when the sounds grew nearer and locked her eyes on the barn doors. They hadn’t specified a finish line, and Zita wasn’t going to count on Emily to play fair if she stopped at the doors, so, when she reached them seconds before Emily, she shoved her way inside and positioned herself at the base of the ladder that was bolted to the center support beam, right in front of what looked like it was once a pen of some kind, but was now an improvised play area, now overflowing with small children with only a few teens to watch them.

Emily burst in and doubled over, panting hard. She tried to speak, but had to stop mid-word to take in gulps of air before she was finally able to choke out a broken sentence, “You-” pant, “cheated-”pant, “I demand-”pant, “a rematch,”

Zita shook her head, “Aren't vamps supposed to be super fast?”

Emily finished catching her breath and huffed, “You’re thinking of the kill covens, they’re witch-types who drink human blood. I prefer cattle, thank-you-very-much,”

Zita rolled her eyes at the childish act, “All right then, all you can do is stick to walls, got it,”

Emily shoved her shoulder, “I can do more than that, jerk,” Zita rolled her eyes and started to climb the ladder, Emily following after, surprisingly taking the normal route. The loft was huge, a long expanse of hay-covered wooden slates serving as a floor while the ceiling loomed high overhead. Hay bales lined the walls and formed a huge, lopsided stack in the middle of the loft, which was wreathed in colorful christmas lights like little tecna colored stars in the dim loft.

Zita stood to take it in for a long moment. She had never been somewhere like that before, somewhere that had been decorated just for the beauty of it, not for functionality or fun, just because it looked pretty. She found herself smiling at the simple scene, the musty scent of hay and dust in her nose and the twinkling lights sparkling in her eyes.

Emily was walking along one of the walls, humming a tune Zita didn’t recognize, “So, you like?” She asked, looking at Zita.

The girl in question shook herself from her stupor, “Yeah,” She responded, “It’s beautiful,”

Emily laughed, “You must not have seen very many pretty things in your life then, now the pyramids? Those, were beautiful. Of course they’re pretty now, but newly built? Absolutely gorgeous,”

Zita stared at her and she stopped her rambling, “But of course you wouldn’t know about any of that, since you’re, you know, not conditionally immortal,” She shrugged and leaped off the wall, performing a little twirl in the air before making her landing next to the big stack. She miscalculated, though, and instead of landing squarely on her feet, she tripped up and stumbled into the pile, momentarily vanishing from sight within the straw.

Zita suppressed a laugh and hurried over to see if she was okay. Just as she was approaching, though, Emily’s head popped up from between the bails and she laughed, “I meant to do that!” She called, as if Zita would actually believe her.

Zita raised an eyebrow, no longer able to keep the smirk from her face, “Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Just get that straw out of your hair, you’re a terrible liar.”

Emily stuck her tongue out at her as she worked the bits of hay that had gotten tangled into her caramel waves. Zita rolled her eyes and went over to help the ridiculously immature vampire. Of course once they had gotten the last of the straw out of Emily’s hair and she had brushed the rest off her white-and-gold loose fitting dress, Emily dived right back into the haystack.

“Hey!” Zita called after her as the heels of her boots vanished between two hay bales. She heard Emily’s laughter from within the pile and rolled her eyes, “We just got that stuff off of you!” She scolded, though the fact that she was laughing ruined the effect.

“Well-” Emily was cut off by a loud wailing outside. Emily’s head popped out of the hay and she clambered out, “Come on!” She exclaimed over the noise Zita now recognized as sirens, “We’ve got to get you to the hiding spots!” Zita didn’t have time to question it, because Emily grabbed her by the arm and rushed her to the back of the loft, where she shoved aside some hay bales and shoved open a trapdoor to the barn below, “Get down there, under the hay, you’ll find a trap door, open it and get inside, don’t let the chorismagians know you’re there, I’ll cover up the door once you’re down,” Zita did as she was told, not entirely willing to argue with those intense obsidian eyes, for the first time showing the years of experience that had been previously hidden.

Zita clambered down the ladder as fast as she could and dropped into the stall below. She cleared some of the hay from the ground and found a handle, which she pulled up to reveal a small compartment, hardly the size of a large trunk.

“Hurry,” Emily hissed from behind her and she jumped, she hadn’t known the vampire was behind her. She squeezed herself into the compartment, having a bit of trouble fitting her wings, to which Emily hissed warnings to hurry and helped her adjust to fit, then shut her in. Zita heard shuffling above her as Emily presumably moved the hay to cover the trapdoor, then nothing.

It was a few minutes before she heard the barn door open and a few sets of heavy footsteps clunk on the cobbled stone floor, accompanied by the loud talking of their owners.

“-in here,” One of them was saying, a woman from the sound of her.

“Well, the man on the phone said he saw something, so let’s just get this over with so we can get out of here. My daughter’s got a dance recital in a few hours and I would like to be there to see it,” the other one sounded like a man, and the footsteps had gotten closer.

“What did the guy say he saw, exactly?” The woman asked, they sounded like they were getting farther away, checking out the far end of the barn.

“He said he saw some of the kids climbing up the side of the barn without proper supervision, he called it ‘child endangerment’, I don’t know, I wasn’t the one to pick up the phone,” the voices had gotten closer again and now sounded like they were right above her.

“I just don’t see how a kid could climb up the side of this thing, I didn’t see a single handhold while we were out there,”

“The guy was probably just seeing things, it doesn't look like there’s anything here, let’s just wrap this up,” The footsteps receded and the conversation continued, degrading to meaningless small talk as the speakers left the barn. Zita’s breaths were shallow and the air was quickly growing stale, but she dared not move until she was sure they were gone. Unfortunately for her, that time didn’t come until several minutes later, when Emily lifted the trap door and helped her out of the compartment.

“Sorry about that,” Emily apologised as she helped straighten Zita’s wing cover, “That happens sometimes, the chorismagian police get a call when someone sees something they consider strange and we have to hide all the non-human looking kids,”

Zita stretched out her stiff arms, “That’s stupid, why can’t the chorismagians see anyone but the human-looking kids?”

Emily tilted her head, “You know what Chorismagia means? Without magic, it’s called Greek here, basically, if it has magic, no one knows about it here, we’re myths to them, and they have a tendency to react rather violently to anything different than what they’re used to,” She finished with the wing cover and walked around to stand in front of Zita, “That’s why only human-looking people can be protectors, like Kivvien, they can fit in most anywhere without getting caught, so they can go between kid stops easier than the rest of us,”

Zita nodded as if she understood, but her mind was still lingering on the idea that anyone could react with violence just because something was foreign. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that anyone, let alone an entire world, could think like that, it was too sickening to think about.

Emily’s grin returned and she skipped toward the barn door, waving Zita after her, “Come on, I’ve got to show you the play yards!” Zita laughed and ran after her, following her all the way to the farm house, where she rounded the back and stopped in front of a large hedge. She was practically bouncing as she gave a dramatic sweep of her arm in the direction of the hedge and said in her best game show-host voice, “May I present, the ‘not-what-it-looks-like hedge!” and she spun into the leaves, vanishing with a flash the moment she touched the branches. Zita only hesitated for half a second, then she thought, what the heck, and hopped into the hedge after the vampire.

Once inside, Zita was immediately overwhelmed. This was clearly a ‘no little kid’ zone. Comfy looking chairs dotted the living-room sized space, most forming circles around coffee tables and fuzzy matts. Teens filled the room with quiet chatter as they draped themselves over the furniture or just seated themselves on the ground with their friend groups.

Zita spotted Emily sitting cross-legged on a plush pink mat that was attached to the wall with a few other vamps. She made her way over and tentatively cut into the conversation, “Hey Emily,” She greeted, trying to cover up her hesitant by crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow, “who are your friends?”

Emily grinned and pointed to the red-headed girl across from her with freckle-dotted pale skin, “That’s Ash,” She pointed to the blonde haired boy next to Ash, “And that’s Lee,”

Lee waved, flashing a charming smile and flipping his shoulder-length hair over his shoulder, “Hey,”

Zita nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to Emily, “Could we go somewhere I could sit down?” She asked with a little smirk.

Emily face-palmed, “Of course! Yeah, yeah, one second,” She waved Lee and Ash after her as she hopped off the wall and hurried over to an open couch, the other three following after.

Zita took a seat and cocked her head at the newcomers, “So…” She trailed off, not sure how to start a conversation with the new group.

Thankfully, Emily took that job for her, “So, can you fly?” She asked Zita.

The girl in question ducked her head to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks, “Um, not really…”

Both Lee and Ash’s eyes snapped to her at that, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. Zita shrank back under their gazes, stuttering excuses, but Emily interrupted, “Oh come on guys, a bunch of the fairies around here didn’t know how to use their wings when they first showed up, you know how it is in Nerdifae. Fairies are hardly allowed to show their wings, let alone learn to use them.”

Lee smirked, “Well then, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we,” Zita wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he would define as ‘fixing’ anything.

Ash punched his arm, “I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t let you.”

Lee pouted, “Why not? It’s not like she would get hurt,”

Mily rolled her eyes, “We all know she probably would, besides, I’m not even sure her wings would support her in the air, what with them missing so many feathers,”

Zita scowled at the trio, “I’m right here.” All eyes turned to her.

“Oh, sorry Zita, we’re just trying to convince Lee not to throw you off the roof,” Ash said with a glare at the boy in question.

Zita frowned at Lee, “And how would that help?”

Lee gave her an easy smile, “Well, it worked for all the other Cyr, I don’t see how it wouldn't work for you,”

Zita rolled her eyes, “Like Emily said, I’m missing a whole bunch of feathers, I doubt I would be able to fly even if I knew how,”

Lee’s smile dampened slightly, “Why?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Zita glared, “That’s none of your business,” She growled, clenching her fists. He flinched backward and even Ash and Emily leaned away from her, all three of them with surprise and fear in their eyes.

But, not a second later, Emily’s grin was back and Zita would have thought she’d imagined the fear, if not for the wary looks Lee and Ash were giving her. She ignored it, there was no point in overthinking things, not now, not when she might, possibly, be able to find a real home for the first time.

“So,” Emily said with her usual cheer, “Since we won’t be doing that what should we do today. We move out tomorrow, so we should enjoy the farm while we’re here,”

“We could…” Ash fiddled with the ends of her hair, “Ask Imani if we could go hunt?”

Emily’s grin turned devilish, “I like the way you think, Ash my dear,” She said in a mock-witches voice, “Lee,” She turned on the long-haired boy, her tone becoming overly sweet and her lip jutting out in a pout, “Would you be a dear and make the request for us?”

Lee sighed and rolled his eyes, exaggerating just as much as Emily, “All right,” He said with a dramatic sigh, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, don’t wander off,” He stood to leave and began to move toward the door, but then he turned back and whispered something in Ash’s ear before hurrying out the door.

Ash had turned as red as her hair and seemed to be trying to melt into the couch. Unluckily for her, Emily noticed her sudden embarrassment, and she nudged her shoulder, “Come on Ash, tell us what he said,” She coaxed, trying out a british accent, which she pulled off nicely.

Ash fiddled with the tips of her hair again and muttered something in what sounded like French, but Emily nudged her again and she spoke up, “He said to make sure no other boy managed to sweep you away,” She said to Zita, who managed to keep herself from blushing and keep her expression neutral, a skill that had come in handy back at her adopted parents’ house.

Instead of blushing, Zita smirked, “I doubt there’s a chance of me getting ‘swept away’ by anyone,” She said with a roll of her eyes, “I may look good, but I am the furthest thing from romantic you can get,”

Emily narrowed her eyes, “Challenge accepted.” That stayed like that, staring eachother down, for almost a full thirty seconds. Then all three girls burst out laughing.

Once she had calmed down enough to speak, Emily said, “Okay, but really, you, who was brought here by Kivvien, is not a romantic. I don’t believe that.”

Zita raised an eyebrow, “I don’t see what Kivvien being the one to take me here has to do with my being a romantic,”

Emily gave another of her signature dramatic eyerolls, “What does it not have to do with that?”

Zitas shifted her wings behind her, “You know what? I’m not going to talk about this with you.” She turned to Ash, “What do you do for fun?” She asked abruptly.

Ash jumped slightly like she hadn’t expected anyone to talk to her, “Oh, um, I like to draw?” She said it like a question, like she didn’t really know if she liked to draw or not.

“Cool, what mediums do you use? Do you prefer pens or pencils?” Zita pressed, and soon the two of them were immersed in a lengthy discussion on the differences between charcoal and pencil sketching. Eventually Emily just rolled her eyes and joined in as well, though it was clear from the start that she hardly knew a thing about art.

Once the discussion had moved from drawing supplies to paints, Lee returned, looking like a kicked puppy. He sulked over to them, feet dragging, head drooping, and sank dejectedly into the seat next to Zita.

“Well?” Emily inquired, despite his obvious body language.

Lee didn’t respond for a beat, then he looked up, a charming grin replacing his previous pout, “She said yes!” He announced.

Zita playfully punched his arm, and he grabbed it in mock pain, “What was that for?” He asked with an innocent facade. She just rolled her eyes in response and got up with the others.

“So, where to, north or south?” Ash asked.

Emily and Lee both answered at the same time, Lee shouting South and Emily calling out North.

“Oh, come on! We do south everytime!” Emily complained.

“Well south has the best hideouts!”

Ash leaned over to Zita as the two continued to argue, “There are two towns, one in the north, one in the south. The one in the north has less people, so less chance of getting spotted, but the town in the south has the better game,”

Zita’s eyebrows drew together, “What are we hunting, exactly?”

Ash gave her a sidelong look, “Witches.”