A younger man with light blonde hair stepped in front of me, stealing my attention.

“Is there anything else?”

“Um...”  I tried to find Mary in the bodies crowded around me but couldn’t.  The urge to start backing away took hold.  Yet, I remained where I was.  I didn’t have a choice.  Another man stood behind me.

“Yeah,” Mary said, her voice floating around us.  “The rest of you can go to the junk yard and look for useful things.”

The men shifted so I could see Mary.  She reached through, wrapped a hand around my wrist, and pulled me out of their circle.

“Like what?” one asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.  “Useful things.  Like...a bathtub.  She doesn’t wash in a stream.”  She tugged me toward the main room’s door as she spoke.

“A bathtub?” I asked under my breath.

“Ask Winifred,” Mary said over her shoulder as she nudged me through the door.  I wasn’t sure if she was telling me to ask Winifred or the confused men behind us, but as she quickly closed the door, I didn’t care.

I breathed a sigh of relief, turned, and threw my arms around her.  “Thank you.”

She awkwardly returned the hug.  “Wini suggested the bathtub.”

I pulled back, confused.  “Is she listening to everything?”

“No.  I’ve been talking to her, so she knows what they’re doing,” she said nodding toward the closed door.  “When they started crowding you, she suggested we send them to the junk yard since this place could use a few things, and you don’t like stealing.  They’ll reach out to her, and she’ll help them figure out what’s needed.”

“How exactly does that work?  Her connection to everyone, I mean.  Is it like little mental strings that connect her to everyone?”

Mary was quiet a moment.  “She says it’s like a two way radio.  You just need to know the right frequency.”  She gave me a puzzled look.  “What’s a two way radio?”

I grinned.  “Your head, apparently.  It’s far out you can talk to her like that.  But doesn’t it get a little noisy in her head?”

This time Mary laughed.

“No.  It’s usually pretty quiet for her.  We keep to ourselves unless there’s a problem our leaders can’t resolve.”

“Leaders?”

“Yeah.  Men like my dad.  Typically, heads of families.  I don’t know if there are any non-family packs.  Wait.  Wini says there aren’t.”

I had no idea what she meant but didn’t ask any further questions.  I didn’t want to know about their hierarchy.  Not yet anyway.

“Let’s go start on the windows,” she said after I remained quiet for a moment.

We went upstairs, split up, and started looking for windows that had one or more whole panes left in them.  Sometimes, just one of the four panes had a thin crack; those windows we left alone as they would still keep out most of the wind and rain.  Usually, though, the glass was missing from at least one of the window’s four squares.

Any window missing glass, we removed altogether and brought the frames to the main room.  There we puzzled over how to remove the good glass without any tools.  The cracked glaze that held each pane in place barely clung to the wood and was easy to pick away.  But the little metal pieces stuck into the wood to pin in the glass were much trickier than the nails that had held the frames in.  Mary had been able to pull the frame nails out with just her fingers.

“We’ll have to ask for help,” Mary said after trying to remove one.  “I don’t have enough control to just change my nails or I could do it.”  She glanced at the closed door.  “You want to ask?”

I totally didn’t want to but moved to the door anyway.  It opened with a creak and drew everyone’s attention.

A pile of neatly stacked boards lay on the ground to the right of the door.  Anton was in the process of setting another on top and looked up at me.  It relieved me that someone I knew was nearby.

“We need a hand for just a minute,” I said to him and stepped back.

One of the wolves in the yard softly growled as Anton stepped through the door.  The men who had been removing additional boards from the shed stared at me.  Did I sound too demanding?

“Um, thank you for your help,” I called.  One of them nodded in acknowledgement, but they all appeared angry anyway.

I closed the door and nearly walked into Anton, who stood just behind me.  I put my hands up to stop myself and almost touched his bare chest.  He smiled at me, the glint in his eye making me nervous.

“Uh...Mary can explain,” I said, motioning to Mary who watched us with interest.

He reluctantly went to Mary’s side and listened to her point out the tiny metal pieces he needed to remove without breaking the glass.  He nodded; and as I watched, the nail on his first finger grew to a lethal point.  He gently prodded the metal and worked it from the wood.

After he’d picked out all four, he scraped away the remaining chunks of glaze and removed the pane.  He turned to hand it to me.  His searching gaze and hesitant smile made me sad for him.  Mary was right.  They totally were trying to seek my favor.

“Thank you, Anton.  Mary, if you want to work with him, I’ll get some more windows.”  I left them and pretended not to notice his disappointed look.

He worked with us for the rest of the morning.  By mid-day, we’d removed all of the windows from the second story and had salvaged enough whole glass for ten complete windows.  Anton had replaced the glass and pressed the metal back into place while Mary and I reinstalled the frames.  I made sure to fix the window in the main room first.  When we finished, I thanked him again for his help and awkwardly walked with him to the door.

“Will you consider me?” he asked before leaving.

I met his hopeful gaze.  He was good-looking and seemed nice.  If we’d met in the real world and he’d stopped to talk to me, maybe my heart would have given a little kick.  But we hadn’t, and I knew what he was.  When I answered, I didn’t pretend to misunderstand him.

“I won’t consider anyone.  My neck isn’t healed.”

His eyes drifted to my neck, and he gave a slow nod.  “I would be gentle,” he said.

I didn’t say anything.  Anything I had to say would upset him.  He wouldn’t be gentle.  No one could be when they intended to bite my neck.  I bore eight puncture wounds already.

He gave me a last pleading look before he finally left.

Sighing, I went to help Mary sweep out the rooms with the restored windows.

“Do you mind if I keep sleeping in your room?” Mary asked when we finished the last one.  Daylight was starting to fade and our makeshift brooms were wearing down.

“Not at all.”

In fact, I preferred it.  I’d only known her a few days, and two of her kind had bit me; yet, I felt safe with her in my room at night.

*    *    *    *

Sounds of fighting in the yard woke me.  It wasn’t yet light.  When I sat up in bed, Mary flicked the lighter.  She was sitting up, too.  Our eyes met.  Outside, the noises quieted.

“What was that?” I whispered.

After a moment, she shrugged and lay down again.  The light went out.  I stayed upright, listening.  Nothing but silence remained outside.

Mary’s breathing slowed once more.  Obviously, whatever had happened wasn’t important or worrisome to her.  However, it took several minutes before I settled back on the bed.

I had no idea how long I lay there in the dark but gradually the room began to lighten.  Lying on my side, I watched Mary as she woke with a stretch on the floor.

“How can you sleep like that?”

“I’ve never slept any other way.  We don’t have beds out there.”  She glanced at the window.

Out there, where fights broke out in the middle of the night, where there was no protection.  The warmth of my blankets wrapped around me, and I appreciated that I’d found this place.  I’d slept outside often since leaving home but I’d longed for something more permanent, somewhere I might belong.  It was that longing, and the possibility of their understanding about my ability, that had me fixing windows when I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stay.