Team Human by Justine Larbalestier Page B

probably ready for something new anyway.”
    I wondered how it was possible to garden only at night. Or maybe she had a suit like Francis.
    â€œMinty?” I repeated.
    Kit grinned at me. When I grinned back, he looked startled. His smile spread wider.
    â€œHer name’s Araminta. She hates it when I call her Minty. If you meet her, you probably shouldn’t call her that.”
    â€œI probably won’t meet her.”
    Kit stopped smiling.
    Cathy and Francis were walking on up ahead, having, I imagined, a dreamy conversation about very little. “Oh, how I love you!” “Not so much as I love you !” I was glad I couldn’t hear it.
    â€œLet me take your bike.”
    â€œI’m fine,” I said firmly.
    I didn’t know if the offer was Francis-trained chivalry or Kit reflecting on how puny human girls must be, but either way I didn’t like it.
    There were a lot of vampires gliding past. I suppose after midnight was the ideal time for vampires to take an afternoon stroll.
    Some of them were wearing what I assumed were the height of fashion when they turned. I saw bustles and crinolines, parasols, flapper dresses, and formal shorts. (Vampires don’t feel the cold.) Others were in more regular clothes, but somehow they still looked like they should be holding parasols and, indeed, some of them were. Added to that, they were strolling, but their stroll was almost as fast as I could run.
    It was too, too weird. How could Kit stand it? Yet he seemed to like it.
    Compared to the vampire women practically floating along on their escorts’ arms, Cathy looked like she was stumbling. I was almost grateful to Francis for matching his speed to hers.
    On the other hand, if it wasn’t for Francis, neither of us would be here. I wouldn’t be walking beside the oddest guy I’d ever met, wheeling my bike, while moonlight reflected off the still faces of vampires passing by. It was quite easily the strangest night of my life.
    A vampire girl sailed down the sidewalk and inclined her head as she did so.
    â€œHello, Kit,” she said, her voice very cultured and adult.
    â€œHello, Mrs. Appleby,” Kit said, and smiled at her.
    She didn’t smile back, just kept sailing on.
    â€œMrs. Appleby?” I repeated. “She looks younger than us.”
    â€œPeople got married at fourteen in the Middle Ages,” Kit answered. “She’s a nice old thing. She used to bring me candy when I was a kid.”
    â€œOh.”
    I stared at Francis’s and Cathy’s backs and resolved not to be rude and ask about Kit’s strange life even though I was so curious I was about to burst.
    â€œSo you’ve lived in the Shade since you were little?” I asked, shamelessly breaking my resolution in under a second.
    â€œI’ve lived here all my life,” Kit said, with a sidelong glance.
    â€œI know I’m prying,” I said. “But a human, living with vampires! I’m dying to know.”
    â€œYou’re dying every minute, but you won’t die yet,” Kit said. I gave him a look and he muttered: “Something my mom says.”
    I was silent. So was the world of the Shade. A vampire in jogging clothes zipped by, so fast his tracksuit was a blur, his running shoes barely stirring the grass.
    â€œVampires jog?” I couldn’t help asking. “They need to stay fit?”
    â€œNo,” Kit said. “He’s new. It’s a human habit. It will leave him soon enough.”
    I tried not to shudder. How did Kit cope, living in this place?
    â€œSomeone left me on their doorstep, the day I was born,” Kit said abruptly.
    â€œSomeone—” I started. “But why would—”
    It wasn’t like leaving a baby on the doorstep of a church or an orphanage. It was a vampires’ house. In the Shade.
    â€œIt’s something people do sometimes,” Kit said, his voice gentle. “If you have a