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appears out of the ordinary.”
    “Which direction did she go?” Victor demanded.
    “She left by the east gate, a little over fifty minutes ago.”
    Susan was hopeful. “Perhaps she just wanted some fresh—,”
    But she was speaking only to an empty corner, because Victor had disappeared.
    “—air.”
    Susan turned to Edward. “I am constantly reminded of how much those two are alike.”
     
    The young woman was sitting beneath a tree. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon and light filtered through the leaves, casting shadowed patterns on the ground. The girl gathered a handful of the rich, composted soil, marveling at the coolness of the dark earth in her hand.
    She glanced around. She had no idea where she was, or in the oddest sense, even who she was. It was mildly disturbing, but she was distracted by the golden dust motes floating in the sunbeams that pierced the canopy. The intricate pattern of the bark of the tree in front of her also mesmerized her, the design endlessly repeating on a smaller and smaller scale until it seemed she could see the molecular structure of the organism itself.
    She glanced around. She knew all of these things, tree, sunlight, soil, but with no particular memory of how she knew them, nor any memory of knowing them before this moment. She grasped another handful of damp earth. The feel of the soil was luxurious, soft and silken in the palm of her hand. It was deathly silent in the small clearing, and although the girl sensed insects, birds, and small mammals nearby, they made no sound at all, as if something dangerous had entered their realm and all were instinctively silenced.
    The girl felt something and took a moment to analyze the sensation. She thought for a moment that she was hungry, but that seemed an inadequate representation of the feeling. She considered thirst as a possibility, and that seemed closer to the mark but again somehow inadequate. It was some type of craving coupled with a desire that was sensual but not sexual in nature. This thought gave her pause because at the moment she could not quite remember what sex was.
    She let the thought drift away. The heat in her body seemed to be rising, as evidenced by the steam rising from the damp earth surrounding her. The water vapor fascinated her and would have held her attention for quite some time was it not for the fact that something was approaching.
    Victor entered the clearing. He was following both the physical and sensory trail that Ryan left in her wake, although the sensory signs were confusing. It felt like Ryan, yet not quite right. He was relieved to see her seated so casually, apparently unharmed; but again, something was not quite right.
    The girl stared at the dark-haired man, examining him intently. She did not know him, but he seemed familiar in some vague sense, as if he reminded her of someone she could not remember. More than anything, he stimulated some devilishly predatory response in her. She analyzed the feeling with the same dispassionate interest she had held for the water vapor. He was incredibly handsome, but the feeling was distinctly non-sexual in nature. It felt more like…
    It felt like she wanted to kill him. And then maybe eat him.
    Victor knew something was terribly wrong, even more wrong than the earlier amnesia and subsequent weakness. Ryan did not appear at all weak at the moment. Her skin had transitioned from the previous deathly pallor to a deep flush, giving her an almost feverish appearance. Her gaze, however, was not dull with fever but penetratingly clear. Her eyes appeared almost brown, but when she shifted and the light struck her iris, Victor could see that they were actually a deep maroon.
    “Ryan?” Victor said carefully, slowly moving into the clearing.
    The name was like a drop of water, and had it landed in a still pool it would have rippled outward and touched shores that would have grounded her. But instead, it dripped into a maelstrom in which it had