Part 26 (1/2)
”Are you okay?””Sure.” He ran a little bit ahead then came back, just to prove he was all right. ”I've fallen farther than that.”
Celluci slapped at a mosquito. ”Is the pond far?” He pulled the squashed insect out of the hair of his arm and wiped the mess on his jeans.
”Nope.” Three jumps proved that an overhanging branch was still too high and he moved on.
”Is it part of the farm?”
”Uh-huh. Grandpa had it dugged a gizillion years ago. When Mommy was little,” he added, just in case Celluci had no idea how long a gizillion years was.
”Does Henry take you swimming?”
”Nah. I'm not allowed to swim at night 'less everybody's there.”
”Isn't Henry ever here in the daytime?”
Daniel sighed and stared up at Celluci like he was some kind of idiot. ”Course he is. It's daytime now.”
”But he's asleep.”
”Yeah.” A b.u.t.terfly distracted him and he bounded off after it until it flew high up into one of the poplars bordering the path and stayed there.
”Why doesn't he ever take you swimming in the daytime.””Cause he's asleep.”
”Just when you want to go swimming?”
Daniel wrinkled his nose and looked up from the bug he was investigating. ”No.”
The security guard at Fitzroy's building had already told Celluci that Henry Fitzroy seemed to live his life at night. Working nights and sleeping days wasn't that unusual but added to all the other bits and pieces - or to the lack of bits and pieces - it certainly didn't help allay suspicion. ”Does Henry ever bring anyone with him?”
”Course. Brought Vicki.”
”Anyone else?”
”Nope.”
”Do you know what Henry does when he's at home?”
Daniel knew he wasn't supposed to tell that Henry was a vampire, just as he wasn't to tell about his family being werewolves. It was one of the earliest lessons he'd been taught. But the policeman knew about the fur-forms and he was a friend of Vicki's and she knew about Henry. So maybe he did, too.
Daniel decided to play it safe. ”I'm not supposed to tell.”
That sounded promising. ”Not supposed to tell what?”
Daniel scowled. This grown-up was real dull, all he wanted to do was talk and that meant no fur-form.
Vicki had been lots more fun; she'd thrown sticks for him to chase. ”You mad at Henry 'cause he's withyour mate?”
”She's not my mate,” Celluci snapped, before he considered the wisdom of answering the question at all.
”You smell like she is.” His brow furrowed. ”She doesn't though.”
He had to ask. ”And what does she smell like?”
”Herself.”
This is not the type of conversation, to have with a six-year-old,Celluci reminded himself as the path opened out into a small meadow, the pond s.h.i.+mmering blue-green in a hollow at the far end.
”Oh, boy! Ducks!” Daniel tore out of his shorts and raced across the field, barking shrilly, tail thras.h.i.+ng from side to side. The half dozen ducks waited until he was almost at the pond before taking wing. He plunged in after them, splas.h.i.+ng and barking until they were out of sight behind the trees then sat down in the shallows, had a quick drink, and looked back, panting, to see if his companion had witnessed his routing of the enemy.
Celluci laughed and scooped up the discarded shorts. ”Well done!” he called. He'd felt a superst.i.tious p.r.i.c.kling up his spine when the boy had first changed, but it hadn't been able to maintain itself against the rest of the scene. Crossing the meadow, he decided to leave Henry for the rest of the afternoon and just enjoy himself.
”Is it deep?” he asked, arriving at the pond.
” 'Bout as deep as you near the middle,” Daniel told him after a moment's study.
Over six feet was pretty deep for such a little guy. ”Can you swim.”
Daniel licked a drip of water off his nose. ”Course I can,” he declared indignantly. ”I can dog paddle.”
”Think we'll get this done by supper time?” Rose asked, scrubbing a dribble of sweat off her forehead.
”I didn't think Uncle Stuart gave us an option,” Peter panted, leaning on the mallet. ”He's sure been growly lately.”
”In case you'd forgotten, the family's under attack. He has a good reason.”
”Sure, but that doesn't mean he has to growl at me.”
Rose only shrugged and started stomping the earth tightly around the base of the metal fence post. She hated the amount of clothing she had to wear for this - shoes, jeans, s.h.i.+rt - but fences couldn't be fixed in a sundress, especially not when every section seemed determined to support at least one raspberry bush.
”I mean,” Peter clipped an eight-inch length of wire off the bale and began reattaching the lower part of thefence to the post, ”everything you do, he snaps at you.”
Everythingyoudo, you mean. Rose sighed and kept her mouth shut. She'd been feeling so strange herself lately, she certainly wasn't going to criticize her twin.
He squinted up at the sun, burning yellow-white in the late afternoon sky, and fought the urge to pant.
”What a day to be working outside. I don't believe how hot it is.”
”At least you can work without a s.h.i.+rt on.”
”So could you.””Not right next to the road.”
”Why not?” He grinned. ”There's never any traffic along here and besides, they're so little no one'll be able to see them anyway.”
”Peter!”
”Peter!” he echoed, as she took a swing at him. ”Okay, if you don't like that idea, why don't you trot back to the house and get us some water.”
Rose snorted. ”Right. While you lean on the fence and watch the world go by.”