Blood Lite II: Overbite (25 page)

Maybe I’m getting mushy in my dotage but the idea of a wedding seems right. He’s a ghoul, a young ghoul to be sure and, yes, he’d made a few mistakes, but haven’t we all.

We’ve never had a flesh eater living among us and it’ll take some getting used to, no doubt about that. Hell, when
I
first moved here it caused quite a stir. But the more I think about it, the more I realize he’ll fit right in, once everybody gets over their fear of the unknown.

Well, the wedding’s set for the night of Mother’s Day, as kind of a thank-you to me. You know the way kids in love think—if I’d turned Henry in right off, they wouldn’t’ve met. Or, as Lucinda put it, “Mummy, we owe it all to you.”

Daycare of the Damned

NINA KIRIKI HOFFMAN

You sign one stupid contract in blood when you’re sixteen, and the rest of your life goes down the crapper.

My Demonic Despot didn’t give a damn that I was legally a minor. And I was so dumb I didn’t even get much for my soul.

I did the sign-your-name-in-blood thing at a party I went to, to impress girls I didn’t even like. That bitch Angela put
my
contract on some special paper she got out of a locked drawer in her dad’s desk. Everybody else pretended to prick their fingers and signed contracts on regular copy paper with fake blood from little capsules supplied by Angela. I was the only one stupid enough to actually use my own blood.

And what did I get for my soul?

No, not eternal youth and beauty. Not fame and a recording career or stardom.

I just wanted people to like me.

The joke was on the other girls at the party. They invited me there to humiliate me for daring to try to be their friend, and they all ended up liking me and wanting me to like them. They were so, so sorry about the mean little trick they played.

Heh.

A couple years later, His Deep Darkness offered to renegotiate. I could get my soul back for just two little favors.

I was going to take him up on it.

I paused on the spotless white marble doorstep and checked my uniform—corduroy overalls striped in pink and white over a white blouse, and white shoes, all of which I expected would be stained by the end of my first day at Exceptional Daycare. “For Special Children,” the sign out front said. I had checked their website. They were very exclusive, and there was a waiting list to get in.

I was relieved I’d landed this job. My Scary Spitemeister wanted child sacrifices, and he was really picky. He didn’t like children with blemishes, and they had to be well-nourished and well-loved. He wanted a matched set—boy and girl, but not related to each other. He preferred that they have similar coloring, for balance, he said.

I pressed the recessed doorbell of the stylish, heavy door. A tall, thin woman in a full-length blue dress opened the door and stared at me a moment before allowing herself a small smile. She had severe, white-streaked brown hair wound around her head in a braid coronet and pale crystal eyes. She was a stranger to me, nothing like the very friendly woman who had interviewed me for the job. She looked chilly. Plus, she was a head and a half taller than me. Shortness is another of my genetic lottery losses, though I’m not quite short enough to qualify as a dwarf.

“Come in, Magda,” said the woman. “You’re right on time. We appreciate that here at Exceptional.”

I bobbed my head, not sure what the best response was.

“I’m Mrs. Richter, the supervisor. Did Alice explain what your duties will be?” asked the woman.

Alice had conducted my job interview. She gave me some weird tests I didn’t understand, then handed me a load of paperwork, including a very involved and confusing contract. My second contract. I tried to read it more carefully than I had my first. It said once I signed it, I would work there no matter what kind of challenges the children presented. I couldn’t quit for six months, the contract said, under severe penalties.

I had to wonder.

My Evil Overlord told me to sign it, though, and because I was trying to win back my soul without losing my gift, I did.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Alice said I’d be working with the younger kids. I’m supposed to keep them from hurting themselves or others, supply midmorning and midafternoon snacks, clean up as necessary, and generally just watch to make sure things are fair and no one’s left out.”

“Did she explain the special challenges we face here at Exceptional?”

“No, ma’am,” I said. My heart sank. Special challenges implied less-than-perfect children. Maybe I’d read “Exceptional” wrong.

Mrs. Richter cocked her head, stared toward the ceiling. “Hmm. She must have had a reason. Perhaps she—” Mrs. Richter frowned. She studied me, then nodded. “We’ll just see how you do,” she said. “If you can’t work with the little kids, I’ll assign you elsewhere. Please follow me.”

She led me deeper into the building. The hallways were carpeted with hushy plush, so our footsteps got swallowed and we glided like ghosts. The doors we passed looked thick, with steel reinforced bottom halves and narrow windows of heavy glass toward the top, high enough that Mrs. Richter could look in. I couldn’t see anything in the rooms beyond patches of ceiling. There were no sounds anywhere, which wasn’t what I expected from a daycare center.

I glanced up at a window in a door as we passed and saw a flash that looked like lightning dazzle across the ceiling.

Mrs. Richter had been facing that direction, too. She shook her head and led me to the end of the hall. She opened the last door on the left. “We’ll start you with the specials,” she said. “Elly, this is our new assistant, Magda. She’ll be helping you out today.”

“Oh, good,” said Elly. She was wearing pink-and-white-striped overalls, like me. She was a large woman, with a lot of red-gold hair, most of it messy already. Her front was streaked with colors, but I couldn’t tell if they were from paint, food, or the unspeakable Other.

“Alice did her intake and didn’t explain about our special students,” Mrs. Richter said. “Magda, this is Elly. Good luck.” She shoved me into the room and closed the door behind me. The snick of the lock startled me.

Uh-oh.

The room was pretty big. There was a broad expanse of carpeted space covered with scattered toys and tiny furniture. A wall of cubbies lurked on the left, some with things in them, some empty. The narrow windows in three walls were all higher than my head, and the glass had wire net in it. None of them looked like they opened. An upright piano stood against the right wall, with a big basket of semimusical instruments (flutes, thumb pianos, maracas, and bongos) on the floor beside it.

A large table to the left held art supplies. Five kids sat around it, their legs dangling from tall chairs, and all of them hunched over, with big paper in front of them. They wielded fat brushes loaded with poster paint.

They were perfect. Three boys, two girls, all blemish free, rosy cheeked, and happy. One of the girls was a nice shade of cocoa, with tight reddish-brown curls, and the other was a peach-skinned blonde with green eyes and ringlets. One of the boys was blond as well, and another had black hair and blue eyes. The third boy had olive skin and a shock of red hair. They were all gorgeous.

Not a clear matched set, but maybe the two blonds—

“Let me introduce you to our Specials,” Elly said. Her voice was warm and reassuring, though she looked pretty frazzled for so early in the morning. “This is Ian.” Elly tapped the black-haired kid on the shoulder. He looked up at me, and his blue eyes narrowed.

“Hi, Ian. I’m Magda.”

“You’re stained,” he said and returned to his painting. It was black and red and showed a horned figure holding a pitchfork in one hand and a spear in the other.

I glanced down at my uniform. Nope, no stains yet. Maybe the kid was mental.

“This is Jezra.” Elly tapped the red-headed kid. He cocked his head and stared at me with amber eyes. A dusting of freckles flecked his nose. If I were choosing a kid for myself, he was the one I’d choose; he didn’t look like any other kid, but he was beautiful. My Dark Master liked stereotypes, so he wouldn’t like Jezra. That made me happy.

The little boy smiled at me. He looked impish. “You’re interesting,” he said. He had loaded up on green poster paint and seemed to be painting trees, though they looked more like blobs. Maybe they were green apples.

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re interesting, too.”

“This is Fanny,” said Elly, patting the blond girl on the head.

Fanny glared up at Elly. Elly snatched her hand back and covered her suddenly blazing cheeks with both hands. “Sorry, Fan. Sorry. I forgot. No touching.” Tears tumbled from Elly’s eyes. “Magda, no touching Fanny. She doesn’t like it.”

“Okay,” I said.

“This is Dwyn,” Elly said, more subdued, indicating the blond boy. Her eyes softened. A smile lifted her cheeks. She looked like a proud mother.

Dwyn laid down his brush (he was painting a picture of a big red heart) and stared at me. He stood up on his chair and leaned toward me. His gaze was hypnotic. I’d been thinking Jezra was my favorite, but I could feel something twisting in my chest, an impulse to love and worship this little cherub. Then there was a snick in me somewhere, a kind of snapping like a stretched rubber band being released, and the impulse vanished. I leaned a little toward Dwyn to see if
my
spell would work on
him
.

Dwyn smiled. “You’re funny,” he said.

“And this is Keshia,” said Elly, gesturing toward the brown girl.

Keshia looked at me, as most of the others had, evaluating. “You’re connected,” she said. “To what?”

“Um,” I said. I had the feeling I was in trouble. These kids were special, all right. Maybe special the same way I was. Maybe beyond my ability to snatch.

Dilemma. Two horns. Maybe more.

Magda in a pinch again.

So what else was new.

Keshia pouted. “Answer me,” she said.

Fanny poked me with her brush, which was loaded with orange paint and left a big streak down the front of my overalls. One self-prophecy fulfilled. “Answer,” she said.

“What was the question again?” I asked. I glanced at Elly, wondering if she was as strange as these kids were.

She looked defeated. And totally, dreadfully, unrelentingly normal.

“What are you connected to?” asked Ian. “What stains you?”

“Oh, uh,” I said, “a bad bargain.”

“With who?” asked Dwyn.

“I dare not speak his name,” I said. “And anyway, I can’t pronounce it.”

“Did he send you here?” asked Jezra.

“Yeah,” I said.

“You supposed to do anything?” asked Fanny.

“Yeah.”

“Involving us?”

“Not you specifically,” I said. “But yeah.”

“Woohoo! We caught one!” Jezra laughed, his delight infectious. The other kids all grinned. I smiled, then laughed. I couldn’t help it. Which made me suspect something about Jezra’s power. Even Elly giggled.

“Oh, boy!” said Ian. “You’re a bad guy! We totally get to experiment on you!”

“I, uh—”

Elly was smiling.

“What are
you
grinning about?” I asked her, trying to mask my panic.

“It’s so much easier when I don’t have to protect the assistant from the children,” she said. She waved at the kids. “Carry on, children. Enjoy.”

“Oh, boy,” Ian said again.

Fanny held up her hand. “I get first dibs,” she said. “Jezra got the last one and wrecked her in a week, and Ian got the one before—”

“And I haven’t had one in forever,” said Keshia.

“You guys never let me have one,” Dwyn said.

“Because you never do anything interesting with them,” Ian said. “We already know what you can do. It’s boring seeing it over and over.”

“I haven’t had one in forever,” Keshia repeated. “I think it’s my turn this time, Fanny.”

“How about we both work on her?” Fanny said.

“Okay,” said Keshia. “What’s your next thing to try?”

“I got this new ability about a week ago. I used it on the maid at home, and she fooshed and stopped working. Mom got mad at me. She had to call the mage doctor to fix the maid, and then the maid quit. Mom has trouble getting staff who stay. She said I can’t use power at home anymore.”

“What if you wreck her? I get to go first,” Keshia said.

Fanny looked grumpy. “Oh, all right. No fair sending her someplace we can’t get her back from.”

“We can tie a rope around her.”

“Oh,” said Ian, “like that worked so well the last time.”

“I didn’t know those tiger-shark things were waiting on the other side to bite through it,” Keshia said.

“All we got back were little pieces of that guy,” said Jezra. “No more visits to worlds like that.”

“Send her to Gwylla,” Ian said. “See if she can get us more of that mack fruit.”

“Forget that!” yelled Fanny. “It turned me blue.”

“You don’t have to eat it,” said Ian.

“Wait a sec.” I had thought my plans were nefarious, but these kids were on a whole other level. I felt like the floor had risen up to close around my ankles. “What happens if they hurt me?” I asked Elly.

“We have excellent medical benefits at Exceptional,” said Elly. “If we can’t fix you, we’ll find care for you. It was in your contract.”

Dwyn said, “I already tried my talent on her, and it didn’t work. I claim rights. I haven’t had anyone to use in a long time, and she’s different from the others.”

“You already tried?” Ian yelled. “That’s cheating!”

Jezra said, “Did you hear what he said? I’ve never heard of Dwyn’s talent not working on anybody but us. Magda, don’t you just loooove Dwyn?”

“I could love him if he’d let me give him to my Malevolent Master.”

“Wow,” said Jezra. “Maybe we should find out more about you before we—”

“No fair,” said Fanny, pouting. “I want to—”