anything to close my eyes for just a few moments, I reasoned; I didn’t actually have to take a nap.
The sound of a knock on the guest room door snapped me back to consciousness, my hand going for the gun at my belt before I realized where I was—and that I’d gone to sleep with a loaded weapon on my person. Not good gun safety. Not good anything, really. I sat up, rubbing my entire face with my hand, and noticed that the room had gone dark. However long I’d been asleep, it had carried me past sunset. “Who is it?” I called.
“Shelby,” came the answer. “Are you done snoring your life away and ready to join the ongoing crisis, or should I come back in an hour? Mum’s made lamb stew, if that makes a difference in your answer.”
“I’m up.” I grabbed my glasses, slid them on, and stood. Everything hurt substantially more than could be explained by the position I’d been sleeping in. I decided to hate jet lag. “What time is it?”
“Just past seven. You decent?”
I paused. Shelby had seen me naked any number of times, and I had seen her the same way; I could recreate the scars she bore from her years of working with predators both known and cryptozoological with my eyes closed. Being in a house with her parents was going to take some getting used to. “I fell asleep with my clothes on.”
“Alex.” The door swung open to reveal Shelby standing silhouetted by the light that filled the hall. She was wearing a sundress I’d never seen before, and her hair was down, tempting me to plunge my fingers into it and skip straight to getting in trouble with her father. That temptation only lasted a few seconds before my attention was caught by the creature crouching on her shoulder and watching me with wary, avian eyes. It was about the size of a small housecat or a very large ferret, with bright pink plumage on its head and wings, and the striped hindquarters of an animal I’d never seen before.
Shelby saw where I was looking, and beamed. “Alex, meet Flora. Flora, this is Alex.” The little beast responded with a warble that devolved into a screech.
“I’ve never seen a garrinna in the flesh,” I said, standing and moving slowly closer, so as not to frighten her. “She’s beautiful.”
“She was the runt of her litter, which is why she wound up brought into the house instead of staying in the aviary with her brothers and sisters. They all moved on to conservation sites, she stayed here with me.” Shelby kissed the top of the garrinna’s head. Flora responded by rubbing her beak, birdlike, against Shelby’s cheek. “She’s a clever girl. Can have the blender apart in minutes, if we leave her unmonitored in the kitchen. You ready to come downstairs?”
It took me a moment to follow her change of topics. I nodded. “I think I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Did your other sister get here safely?”
“Gabby? Yeah, she’s here. Came in about half an hour ago with a sob story about Cooper getting them lost and being stopped by tourists and something about a kangaroo in a chemist’s and anyway, she’s here now, so if you’re ready to come downstairs . . . ?” Shelby stopped, looking at me expectantly. The garrinna on her shoulder chirped.
I smiled. “Let’s go.”
The sound of voices and the meaty smell of stew greeted us halfway down the stairs, wafting from somewhere toward the back of the house. I let Shelby take the lead, since we were on her territory now, and focused instead on the things around me, trying to get an idea of what I was walking into.
The first thing: there were no pictures on the walls. Back at home, my family history was displayed in black and white, Kodachrome, and even the occasional ink drawing. Once you were in the house, you knew who we were and where you were standing, and you weren’t going to leave alive unless we let you. There was no point in hiding ourselves in the one place where we should have been able to be safe. But these walls were
The sound of a knock on the guest room door snapped me back to consciousness, my hand going for the gun at my belt before I realized where I was—and that I’d gone to sleep with a loaded weapon on my person. Not good gun safety. Not good anything, really. I sat up, rubbing my entire face with my hand, and noticed that the room had gone dark. However long I’d been asleep, it had carried me past sunset. “Who is it?” I called.
“Shelby,” came the answer. “Are you done snoring your life away and ready to join the ongoing crisis, or should I come back in an hour? Mum’s made lamb stew, if that makes a difference in your answer.”
“I’m up.” I grabbed my glasses, slid them on, and stood. Everything hurt substantially more than could be explained by the position I’d been sleeping in. I decided to hate jet lag. “What time is it?”
“Just past seven. You decent?”
I paused. Shelby had seen me naked any number of times, and I had seen her the same way; I could recreate the scars she bore from her years of working with predators both known and cryptozoological with my eyes closed. Being in a house with her parents was going to take some getting used to. “I fell asleep with my clothes on.”
“Alex.” The door swung open to reveal Shelby standing silhouetted by the light that filled the hall. She was wearing a sundress I’d never seen before, and her hair was down, tempting me to plunge my fingers into it and skip straight to getting in trouble with her father. That temptation only lasted a few seconds before my attention was caught by the creature crouching on her shoulder and watching me with wary, avian eyes. It was about the size of a small housecat or a very large ferret, with bright pink plumage on its head and wings, and the striped hindquarters of an animal I’d never seen before.
Shelby saw where I was looking, and beamed. “Alex, meet Flora. Flora, this is Alex.” The little beast responded with a warble that devolved into a screech.
“I’ve never seen a garrinna in the flesh,” I said, standing and moving slowly closer, so as not to frighten her. “She’s beautiful.”
“She was the runt of her litter, which is why she wound up brought into the house instead of staying in the aviary with her brothers and sisters. They all moved on to conservation sites, she stayed here with me.” Shelby kissed the top of the garrinna’s head. Flora responded by rubbing her beak, birdlike, against Shelby’s cheek. “She’s a clever girl. Can have the blender apart in minutes, if we leave her unmonitored in the kitchen. You ready to come downstairs?”
It took me a moment to follow her change of topics. I nodded. “I think I’m as ready as I’m going to be. Did your other sister get here safely?”
“Gabby? Yeah, she’s here. Came in about half an hour ago with a sob story about Cooper getting them lost and being stopped by tourists and something about a kangaroo in a chemist’s and anyway, she’s here now, so if you’re ready to come downstairs . . . ?” Shelby stopped, looking at me expectantly. The garrinna on her shoulder chirped.
I smiled. “Let’s go.”
The sound of voices and the meaty smell of stew greeted us halfway down the stairs, wafting from somewhere toward the back of the house. I let Shelby take the lead, since we were on her territory now, and focused instead on the things around me, trying to get an idea of what I was walking into.
The first thing: there were no pictures on the walls. Back at home, my family history was displayed in black and white, Kodachrome, and even the occasional ink drawing. Once you were in the house, you knew who we were and where you were standing, and you weren’t going to leave alive unless we let you. There was no point in hiding ourselves in the one place where we should have been able to be safe. But these walls were
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