“The girls’ ballet teacher has a room going,” Lupine tells me, her eyes focused on the screen of her phone. Swiping her fingers across it, she shows me a couple of pictures and I have to admit it looks amazing. I could put up with anyone if it meant living in that apartment.
“Ballet teacher, you say? Does she have a studio?”
“Yeah, Evangeline and the creepy twins go once a week.”
“The creepy twins? Do you mean Ariella and Larissa?” I ask with a smirk, surprised that Lupine would ever give the twins that sort of nickname, even if it was an adept nickname for the two psychics.
“They absolutely love their ballet lessons,” Lupine says by way of answer.
Thoughtfully, I consider my options. Finding a ballet studio to practice in should be top of my priorities, well above finding an apartment. If I can kill two birds with one stone, all the better.
“Can we arrange a visit?” Not wanting to press my luck, I omit the fact that I want to see it straight away. The apartment’s owner is most likely working and I will just have to be patient.
“Let me message Kit.”
Luna makes a gurgling noise and Lupine picks the small child up out of her highchair. Leaning across the table, she offers me the little wolf. I hold her away from myself tentatively, focusing all of my attention on the temperature of my skin, desperate not to burn the little one.
Lupine glances at us. “She’s not that breakable, you know.”
“I don’t want to burn her.”
“You haven’t managed to control your fire, yet?” Lupine asks, a tinge of concern in her voice. I expect her to take her child back, but she doesn’t.
“It’s not as easy as you think.”
“Of course not.”
“Especially without another Kitsune to teach me how.”
Lupine gives me a sad smile, one full of pity and I can’t stand it. The momentary distraction is enough to allow my temperature to inch back up again, but fortunately I rein it back under control just in time to prevent the child being harmed.
Neither of us speak while we wait for Lupine to receive a reply from the ballet teacher. I focus my attention on the child, watching as she giggles good naturedly in my arms. Timidly, I pull Luna closer, trying to reassure myself that I won’t hurt her.
Lupine’s phone makes a chiming noise. “Kit says she has an hour before she’s needed at the studio.”
I can barely believe my luck. I’d been expecting to have to go hunting through town for days on end. That had been silly of me. I should have known better. Silver Springs is the sort of town where everyone knows everyone’s business. The sort of town where no one has any privacy. The sort of town where secrets don’t exist.
Well, except for the biggest secret of all. The very existence of supes is the best kept secret in Silver Springs, the humans being completely oblivious to their supe neighbors.
The Naked Neighbor
L eaving Luna with Jacqueline and the other toddlers, Lupine and I leave the orphanage and climb into my car for the short trip across town. We probably should walk but there isn’t time. I want to take my time exploring the apartment and we only have one hour before Kit will have to return to the ballet studio.
I parallel park, staring up at the apartment building for a second before climbing out of the vehicle.
Lupine chats away animatedly about this and that as we cross the apartment building’s lobby. It’s bizarre to see her so happy. She used to have the same slightly wounded way about her that I often noticed in myself, but things have changed now. Lupine has changed. My more curious side wants to ask her about it, but I imagine that her explanation would require a long conversation. Something we certainly don’t have time for right now.
“Damn it,” Lupine grumbles without irritation. “The elevator is out of service.”
“Good job you’re not planning on moving in immediately,” she continues when I don’t say anything. “I’d hate to have to carry boxes up to the fourth floor.”
“I don’t really have that much stuff.” Just my skates, a case full of clothes and a book or two; nothing that would be particularly difficult to carry up a few flights of stairs.
When we reach the fourth floor, Lupine takes a quick look at her cell phone, checking which apartment we’re supposed to be visiting.
“Number eleven,” she mutters before striding down the corridor with more determination than the task requires. Her eyes dart from one door to the next but she pulls up short when we pass number nine and then number thirteen.
“It should be right here.”
I squint at the doors again, matching my friend’s confusion. Lupine paces the hallway, trying to find the missing door but she abruptly stops when the door marked number nine opens wide to reveal a half-naked man.
I almost topple into him in my surprise and my cheeks tinge pink as I try not to stare at his chiselled chest. My gaze moves down of its own accord and I can’t help but notice that his towel is a little on the small side, exposing his firm thighs. My mouth begins to water, and I have to shake my head to try and clear my thoughts.
“Can I help you?” His voice comes out harshly as if he’s bothered by our presence. Not that I can work out what we did to make him come out here in a towel. It’s not like we rang his doorbell or anything.
“I’m looking for number eleven,” I say after clearing my throat.
“Try the end of the corridor.”
“But...” I pause. I’m sure the naked guy doesn’t need a lesson in basic arithmetic.
“The doors like to move,” he explains with a bored expression on his face. “Don’t ask me why. I have no idea and I don’t really care to know either. Missing doors tend to show up at the end of the corridor. And they always come back.”
“Thank you,” Lupine says abruptly before pushing me down the corridor, a giggle breaking out between us. “Did you see those abs?” she whispers when we’re far enough away not to be overheard.
“Like you haven’t got five equally impressive sets waiting for you at home.”
“True.” Lupine winks at me, giggling once again.
“What’s it like having five mates?” I ask, even though I know her answer will most likely take all day.
“Heaven.” Her one-word answer frustrates me. It does nothing to answer my question. I want to ask another question, to understand more, but when we find a door marked number eleven, I know that now really isn’t the time.
“Here it is.” Lupine raps her fist against the door. The door opens abruptly and a wavy haired brunette rushes out. She’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of light blue jeans with holes on one thigh and the opposite knee. She’s nothing like I would have expected.
I had been anticipating meeting a woman with her hair held in a tight bun, a stern look across her face and a leotard.
“Oh, good. I was worried you wouldn’t find us, what with the door moving again.”
“Does that happen often?” I ask.
Shrugging her shoulders, Kit moves aside to let us in. “Often enough to be confusing.”
“And does he walk around in a towel all the time?” Lupine asks, pointing back up the corridor to where Kit’s neighbor is still leaning against his doorframe, his towel barely covering his bulge. It wouldn’t take much to pull it off his hips.