The Reluctant Vampire(67)

“She can’t be left alone,” Drina reminded her.

“Besides, it wouldn’t matter as long as I’m in the house with you all,” Stephanie assured her. “The floors and walls don’t seem to stop it, at least not inside. Although going outside helps muffle it quite a bit if you’re all inside. I’m not sure why, though.”

“This is an old Victorian house with connected double outer walls,” Harper said quietly, and when Drina raised an eyebrow, he explained, “If you’ve ever looked at the bricks on the outside of the house, each row has three or four normal-sized or uniform bricks and then a small end piece, then more normal sized and another small one and so on. It’s because they built an outer wall and an inner wall. The small bricks are actually ones that connect the outer wall to the inner. It made for good insulation or something . . . or perhaps just sturdier buildings. But that was how they were built when this house was erected.” He shrugged, and then suggested, “The double brick, and then plaster on top of that probably creates more of a barrier for whatever Stephanie is picking up.”

“I don’t suppose you guys would let me just step out on the deck for a couple of minutes?” Stephanie asked hopefully. “Even a few minutes respite would help.”

Drina exchanged a glance with Mirabeau and knew at once that the other hunter, like herself, wanted to say yes but just couldn’t. Especially when they were on high alert. They had to consider Stephanie’s safety first.

“That isn’t necessary,” Harper said suddenly, sitting upright in his seat. “The porch off Elvi and Victor’s bedroom was an add-on sometime after the house was built. They’ve insulated it and put in an electric heater, but the wall between it and Elvi’s room is the original double-walled construction. It’s as good as standing outside in that regard except it’s heated, furnished, and has a television and music system and everything.” He smiled, and explained, “Elvi and Victor spruced it up a bit to use it as their own private living room, for when they feel like getting away by themselves.”

Mirabeau smiled. “Well that sounds perfect; why don’t you two take Stephanie out there and watch a movie or something?” When Drina hesitated and glanced toward Tiny, Mirabeau glanced at her watch, and said, “It’s only fifteen minutes until the next shift, and Tiny seems quiet enough for now. We should be fine.”

Drina checked her own watch and said, “It’s time for his next shot in five minutes. I’ll get it ready and give it to him before we go.” Standing, she glanced over her shoulder to Stephanie, and suggested, “Why don’t you run down and get us some snacks or something? Maybe pick a move from the DVD collection in the living room.”

“On it!” the girl said, cheerful now, apparently at the prospect of a respite from the constant voices and energy. She stood and rushed out of the room.

Silence fell briefly in the room as Drina prepared a needle, and then Mirabeau said solemnly, “This isn’t good.”

“No,” Harper agreed on a sigh.

Drina didn’t comment. She knew what they were referring to. Stephanie’s abilities. Harper had tried to sway it like they were a good thing, a special ability she’d been blessed with, but the truth was it might be a curse.

There were very few edentate in their society, most were from the time of the fall of Atlantis or shortly after. Very few had come afterward for the simple reason that male edentates never turned mortals. If they found a mortal life mate, the council assigned an immortal the task of turning that mortal rather than create another edentate with the flawed nanos. Any offspring they then had took on the mother’s blood and nanos and would be immortal as well.

The same was true for female edentates, except if they did have children, that baby would take on its mother’s blood and nanos and so would be edentate.

The council hadn’t outlawed edentates having children, but most refused to do so for fear of having to watch their progeny die or be killed as a mad thing. There had been a few born, but not more than a handful since the fall of Atlantis. They were rare. Between that and the length of time since the no-fangers had been believed to be wiped out, little was known about the madness that turned an edentate into the dreaded no-fanger. It was usually assumed that in a turn, the madness was evident as soon as the turn was done, that the turnee came out of it screaming mad. However, there were rumors and legends that suggested it might not be that abrupt, that they could still come out of the turn seemingly fine, but then shortly thereafter go mad, driven there by something, though the tales had never specified what that something might be.