Team Human by Justine Larbalestier Page A

Cathy.
    Guess who Francis the Selectively Deaf paid attention to?
    I cast an imploring look at Kit and Camille.
    â€œI’m sure Francis has things to do around the house,” I said. “Like his chores? Maybe somebody needs to scrub the toilet?”
    â€œVampires don’t go to the bathroom,” Kit said gloomily. “So guess whose turn it always is to scrub the toilet.”
    I was freaked out by the long-suffering way he said vampires , as if he was saying adults .
    â€œThe Shade is not entirely safe for human strangers at night,” Camille said, with an unreadable look at me that could have been an apology. “Better overcautious than missing a jugular vein, as the saying goes.”
    That was a very morbid saying. Maybe only vampires said it.
    Maybe only French vampires said it.
    â€œI’ll walk with you guys and Uncle Francis,” Kit offered.
    Cathy heard that. Possibly it was hearing someone name Francis so familiarly that woke her from her reverie. She gave Francis an inquiring look.
    â€œSometimes I call him that,” Kit said. “Because he’s an old person.”
    â€œHe has never called me that before in his life,” Francis remarked in a frozen voice.
    â€œYou probably don’t remember,” Kit told him. “That’s why it’s best that I go with you, Uncle Francis. You could have one of your senile fits and end up forgetting your way home. Think how we’d miss you. Think how we’d miss the lute playing.”
    Kit’s eyes slid back to me to see if I was smiling.
    I wasn’t. Kit might be making fun of Francis, an activity I approved of and enjoyed, but I didn’t do it in that easy, affectionate way. Inexplicable though it was, Kit was obviously fond of Francis.
    Why were all the people I met drawn to vampires? You’d think they really did have hypnotic powers.
    Francis, naturally, responded with all the warmth of an offended iceberg. “Kit, I beg of you not to display your usual insolence before guests. I dread to think what impressions Catherine has formed of our shade.”
    â€œOh no,” Cathy said. “Everyone’s been lovely.”
    â€œI offered to walk them home,” Kit put in. “Always the perfect little gentleman, yours truly.”
    â€œYou are too kind,” Francis murmured to Cathy. “Shall we, my dear?”
    Cathy glowed, slipping her hand into the proffered crook of his arm, and he led her out the front door. Camille stood at the threshold, still and dignified, the lady of the house.
    â€œThank you for having us,” I heard Cathy tell Camille earnestly.
    â€œCome back anytime. Either of you.” It was sweet of her not mention the fact that we had broken in.
    I hoped we wouldn’t be back. But given the way Cathy and Francis were looking at each other, it was a forlorn hope. I had a vision of incredibly awkward dinner parties, with half the table not eating. Of Ty and me chatting with Camille the vampire cop while Francis and Cathy sat on a sofa gazing into each other’s eyes. Francis’s feelings for her were obviously real. Sonnets? Ballads?
    He couldn’t have known that she would ever hear about them. I couldn’t think of any reason for him to write them and torment his shade with lute playing unless he felt something for her.
    Though who knew what vampires actually felt.
    Even if it was real, it was still creepy.
    â€œI need to get my bike,” I said, stomping down the front steps.
    Kit kissed his mom on the cheek and then came down the porch steps to join me.
    â€œSorry about the petunia bed,” I mumbled as I picked up my bike and tried not to tread on the already trampled flowers.
    â€œNo problem,” he said. “Minty changes the whole garden every few months. Some vampires”—and he said the word that way again, as if they were the grown-ups—“get very bored. Landscape gardening. Redecorating. She’s