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I checked the third one, which had recorded at the edge of the pool. Ninety seconds exactly.

I moved on to the fourth, drawing it out of the center of the pool. The readout was identical to the three before it.

So far, time was being well behaved.

I circled to the far bank and checked the fifth in line, which had come to rest upside-down at the foot of a bulbous stalagmite. Flipping it over, I leveled the tiny screen under my flashlight.

My nostrils flared.

“Nuh-uh-uh,that’snot allowed,” I muttered.

Here, time was being very naughty.

Chapter 2

Lana

I walked intomy apartment, dropping my satchel onto the couch. It made a sloshing noise as the bagged blood inside it bounced.

Rolling my shoulders, I moved to my room and began to change, first untying the laces of the men’s work boots I wore. Then the scratchy socks, followed by the large, coarse jeans. As I undressed, I felt my hair thicken and grow, prickling my scalp and tickling the skin of my back as it lengthened, several dark locks draping themselves over my shoulders. My limbs shrank and narrowed, becoming rounder, more feminine.

My true form.

Even in my natural skin, I was nearly indistinguishable from the natives. All but the eyes. They were just a smidge too violet to pass for human.

Carefully I placed the clothes in my bedroom closet and slipped the men’s work boots next to a pair of child’s sneakers. I exchanged the native’s clothes for my own, sighing as I dragged my formfitting, full-body suit over my hips, then my breasts, wiggling a little as I pulled it up. I felt the stretchy material cinch around my waist like a second skin as I threaded my arms through the long sleeves. I slid on my boots and grabbed my sheathed daggers, attaching the weapons to my pants. The familiar weight felt comfortable against my outer thighs.

Now that I was back in my own skin and clothes, I felt better, but not much. I needed to get back home. My people were counting on me.

Returning to the living room, I opened my satchel.

One by one I lifted the blood bags out of it and spread them across the couch, counting the number I had taken. Twenty-six. Not enough for my people. Not nearly. But still enough to go noticed by the blood bank.

The natives would ask questions.

So many, many questions. They used inquiry the way my people used magic. And they got results.

Those cold, calculating creatures would somehow find me if I lingered long enough.

I swallowed. I’d have to find a different blood bank after this. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to move my outpost from this city. It was hard enough to set up the first time. I couldn’t imagine doing what others of my kind had—hopping from place to place, living as ex-patriots in this world. Trying to get by as a human.

We weren’t, and we never would be. Thank goodness.

I made my way over to the map of the United States that hung on the far wall. I searched the eastern side of it, looking for the city I was currently in.

There.

Roanoke, Virginia.

Home to nearly 100,000 humans. In this single city alone there were a hundred times more natives than there were of my entire race.

My dying race.

I packed up the blood. From the front closet of my apartment I grabbed a human hoodie and tried not to shudder as I slipped it on. Then, hauling the satchel over my shoulder, I glanced at the map once more.

With my finger, I followed the crooked highway that led from this city a deceptively short distance to the tiny human town.

White Sulfur Springs.