Butler, Octavia - Fledgling

“Iosif owns—owned—a house outside Arlington,” Brook said. “Some of us used it to commute to jobs or to entertain visiting family members. There are three bedrooms, three baths. It’s a nice place, and it’s ours. We have a right to be there.”

I nodded, relieved. “That would be better. Could other symbionts be there already?” Brook looked at Celia.

“I don’t use it,” Celia said. “I haven’t kept up with the schedule.”

“I don’t think anyone’s there,” Brook said. “If there is ... if some of us are there, Shori, they need you, too.”

I nodded. “Take me back to Wright. Then we’ll go there.”

During the sad, silent trip back to Wright’s car, I had time to be afraid. These two women’s lives were in my hands, and yet I had no idea how to save them. Of course I would take their blood. I didn’t want to, but I would. They smelled like my father and my brother. They smelled almost Ina, and that was enough to make them unappetizing. And yet I would make myself take their blood. Would that be enough? Iosif had told me almost nothing. What else should I do? I could talk to them. What I told them to do, they would try to do, once I’d taken their blood. Would that be enough?

If it wasn’t, they were dead.

eleven

To get to the house that my father had bought for his symbionts and my brothers’, we followed the highway through dense woods, past the occasional lonely house or farm, past side roads and alongside the river. I asked Wright whether the river had a name.

“That’s the north fork of the Stillaguamish,” he told me. “Don’t ask me what ‘Stillaguamish’ means because I have no idea. But it’s the name of a local Native American tribe.”

Eventually we reached more populated areas where houses and farms were more visible, scattered along the highway. There were still many trees, but now there were more smells of people and domestic animals nearby. In particular, there was the scent of horses. I recognized it from the time I’d spent prowling around Wright’s neighborhood. Horses made noises and moved around restlessly when I got close enough to them to be noticed. My scent apparently disturbed them. Yet their scent had become

one of the many that meant “home” to me.

Wright and I followed the women’s car talking quietly. I told him what had happened to my father’s community and that Celia and Brook had survived because they were in Seattle.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to make of this,” he said. “Your kind have some serious enemies. What we need to do is find some place safe where we can hunker down, pool information, and figure out what to do. There’s probably a way to tip the police to these people if we can just figure out who they are.”

As he spoke, I realized that I was willing to go further than that. If we found the people who had murdered both my male and my female families, I wanted to kill them, had to kill them. How else could I keep my new family safe?

My new family ...

“Wright,” I said softly and saw him glance at me. “Celia and Brook will be with us now. They have to be.”

There was a moment of silence. Then the said, “They’re not going to die?” “Not if I can take them over. I’m going to try.”

“You’ll feed from them.”

“Yes.” I hesitated. “And I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t remember anything about this. Iosif told me it had to be done when an Ina died and left symbionts, but he didn’t tell me much. He couldn’t know . . . how soon I would need the information.”

“Maybe Brook and Celia know.”

I turned away from him, looked out the window. The sun was well up now, and in spite of the threatening rain clouds, it was getting bright enough to bother me. I reached into the backseat, grabbed the blanket I had brought, and wrapped myself in it. Once I’d done that, except for my eyes, I was almost

comfortable.

“Look in the glove compartment there,” Wright said gesturing. “There should be a pair of sunglasses.” I looked at the glove compartment, decided how it must open, opened it, and found the glasses. They

were too big for my face, and I had to keep pushing them up my nose, but they were very dark, and I immediately felt better. “Thank you,” I said and touched his face. He needed to shave. I rubbed the brown stubble and found even that good to touch.

He took my hand and kissed it, then said, “Why don’t you want to ask Brook and Celia what they know?”

I sighed. Of course he had not forgotten the question. “Embarrassment,” I said. “Pride. Imagine a doctor who has to ask her patient how to perform a life-saving operation.”

“Not a confidence builder,” he said. “I can see that. But if they know anything, you need to find out.” “I do.” I drew a deep breath. “Brook is older. Maybe I’ll feed from her first and find out what she

knows.”

“She can’t be much older. They look about the same age.” “Do they? Brook is older by about twenty years.”

“That much?” He looked skeptical. “How can you tell?”

I thought about it. “Her skin shows it a little. I guess it’s as much the way she smells as the way she

looks. She smells . . . much more Ina that Celia does. She’s been with my father longer than Celia’s been with my brother. I think Celia is about your age.”

He shook his head. “Brook doesn’t have any wrinkles, not even those little lines around the eyes.” “I know.”

“No gray either. Is her hair dyed?” “It isn’t, no.”

“Jesus, am I still going to look that young in twenty years?”

I smiled. “You should.”

He glanced at me and grinned, delighted. “I think we’re here,” I said.

The car ahead of us had turned and pulled into the driveway of a long, low ranch house. There were no other houses in sight. We turned down the same driveway, and when Brook stopped, Wright said, “Hang on a moment.” He jumped out and went to speak to the two women. I listened curiously. He

wanted them to pull into the garage that I could see farther back on the property. It bothered him that this house was connected with Iosif ’s family. He thought the killers might know about it.

“You heard that didn’t you?” he asked me when he came back.

I nodded. “You may be right. I hoped we could settle here for a while, but maybe we shouldn’t. Even the police might come here to look for information about Iosif.”

He pulled the car into the garage alongside Brook’s. The garage had room enough for three cars, but there was no other car in it. “True,” he said. “But we won’t be able to use my cabin for long either. I already told my aunt and uncle that I was leaving.” He hesitated. “Actually, they sort of told me I had to go. They know ... well they think that I’ve been sneaking girls in.”

I laughed in spite of everything.

“My aunt listened at the door a few nights ago. She told my uncle she heard ‘sex noises.’ My uncle told me he understands, said he was young once. But he says I’ve got to go because my aunt doesn’t understand.”

I shook my head. “You’re an adult. What do they expect?”

He pulled me against him for a moment. “Just be glad they haven’t seen you.”

I was. I got out of the car and stood waiting, wrapped in my blanket, in the shadow of the garage until Brook had opened the back door, then I hurried inside. There was, even from the back, not another house in sight. There were other people around. I could smell them. But they were a comfortable distance away, and the many trees probably helped make their houses less visible.

Inside, the rooms were clean, and there were dishes in the cupboard. There were canned and frozen foods, towels, and clean bedding.