The grass was cold and damp beneath her feet.

She crushed the delicate equilibrium of dew drops clinging lightly to stalks of grass with every step, leaving dark footprints in the glimmering lawn. She was wearing her nightgown, but her hair was tangled and she paused at the side of the house to lick her hands and mouth and make sure all traces of blood were gone, metallic, rich and intense. She sucked on her fingers and then looked up at her window, the last traces lingering in her mouth.

It yawned, dark and foreboding, and she smiled.

She didn't need a ladder, or handhold. Helena listened keenly, attentive to the sound of the nocturnal animals, the movement of the window, the far away growl of a car's engine. Quiet rode the night hard to any human ears, but hers were far from mortal. The darkness was alive.

When her ears told her there was no danger, she swept a quick glance out anyway to make sure and then leapt.

Her hands caught the second story sill. She might have made the softest of thumps as her feet hid the side of the house, but when she slithered inside she was soundless. She hadn't spent her life trying--in vain, but with impressive attempts--to hide late night runs from a werewolf to let a bunch of humans get the drop on her.

Emma knew she'd need to run, so the one non human member wasn't a problem.

She wiped at her mouth again, absently, as she started across the room. Her hair was a mess, as usual; she dug through her unpacked bag to find a rough comb and perched on the edge of the bed. An owl hooted, softly, through the open window.

Bunny rabbits were her favorite, but she'd made do with squirrels. She dropped a strip of bark on the floor, the comb finally moving as smoothly as it ever did through her curly hair, and tossed it onto the desk, sliding under her covers. This would do. This was nice.

She snuggled into the bed, closed her eyes, and let sleep carry her away from lingering air freshener.

"We're gonna have to go early," Laura said, eating cereal in the kitchen. "And mom, you know you're going to have to start picking her up."

"You, too," Emma said, smiling at Helena as she slipped into the room. She was making pancakes, stirring the batter briskly.

"What?" Laura squawked in protest.

"You didn't 'need to be picked up' so I let it drop. But now that I'm making the trip, you're coming home with me. I had an interesting discussion with your math teacher."

"Oh come on, mom, school's barely just started--"

"So the fact that you're already doing poorly is even less excusable." Emma's voice was cool and untouched. "Make sure you've got everything you need."

Laura dropped her bowl noisily in the sink and stormed past their guest. "Fine!" She yelled down the stairs.

"Pancakes?" Emma asked serenely.

"I already ate," Helena said, sitting down and eyeing the chef's-hat-shaped salt and pepper shaker set. "Thanks."

Emma nodded, beginning to pour the batter. "You're welcome. Robert!"

A different tempo of footsteps on the stairs. "I'm here," he replied, fussing with his tie as he appeared in the doorway. "Breakfast?"

"Make sure Warren's gotten out of bed," she admonished. "I woke him, but you know how he is." Robert made an agreeable noise and went back the way he'd come.

"I like your house," Helena said, peering through the window.

"Yes, it's nice isn't it?" Emma flipped the first pancake. "Nice neighborhood."

"Very quiet, isn't it."

"Oh...yes." Emma gave her a considering look. "Yes, that might be problematic, wouldn't it? Especially as young as you are. We'll figure out an outlet. Good run?"

"It was all right." Helena turned the salt shaker in circles. "Too many lawns and fences. Too many roads. Shitty drivers."

The older woman laughed, short and startled; Helena turned to look at her. "Oh, it's nothing," she assured her, amused. "I just wasn't expecting you to curse."

Helena shrugged. "Why not?"

Emma mirrored her shrug. "We'll have to take you school shopping. Backpack, notebooks...the school provides the textbooks, of course. Maybe this weekend."

Helena shook salt out into her palm and licked it up. "Maybe. You don't have to buy anything for me."

Emma shook her head. "You need it for school. I told your Uncle when he offered a budget that I would pay for what's necessary. If I got money from him it would be a business deal instead of a favor." Her eyes softened. "And it doesn't need to be a business deal."

Helena paused in the action of putting the salt back. "You've met Aunt Josephine, right?"

Emma gave a snort of laughter. "Yes, I've met Josephine."

"Good," Helena said, satisfied. She pushed the salt shaker back into the place. "I'm ready to go. When do we leave?"

"Once they've had breakfast," Emma said mildly. "Do you want some? There's syrup...jam...."

"I don't like sweet things much," Helena said, and rose. "I'll wait on the porch, in the fresh air."

Emma gave her a sharp look. "If you need--"

"No," Helena said, rolling her eyes. "I just like the wind."

"And suddenly you're a teenager after all," Emma muttered as she slipped out.

She sat and waited, letting the wind carry messages to her nose. All down the street people were leaving their homes, getting in cars, starting to walk, walking their dogs. A cat jumped onto a fence a couple houses down and gave her a gimlet, unamused stare. She put her chin on her knees, curled up on the porch swing, and sniffed at the aroma of bacon.

A car was coming up the street. She didn't pay it any more attention to it than any of the others at first, but when it pulled into their drive she sat up straighter, eyeing it. A tall young man unfolded himself from the driver's seat; he was dark haired and wearing sunglasses, and he had a leather coat on. She dug her heels into the cushions on the porch swing.

He paused briefly when he saw her, and then continued in long, confident strides, mounting the steps slowly as he looked her over. He was wearing jeans and a green shirt under the leather coat, and he smelled like cologne and shampoo, and very faintly of cigarette smoke. Yesterday at most.

"Hey," he said, and took off the sunglasses. His eyes were very green.

She didn't answer, studying him instead. Healthy male, young, hormonal...the leather coat smelled faintly of floral perfume, and lipstick. Aunt Josephine wore them sometimes, just a little, and then by the time the evening ended Helena would be able to smell it on her Uncle. She'd learned to pay attention to nights like that, because it meant they'd go hunting together and Helena would make dinner if she felt like it, or bully one of the cousins into making it if she felt like that.

"Hello," she said finally, reserving judgment.

He smiled, charming and slow, blond hair curling over his forehead. He tapped his glasses on his leg and gave her a considering look. "You must be the new boarder."

Helena waited.

The smile didn't fade, but it turned a little condescending. "I'm Jake."

"My name is Helena Maddox," she recited patiently.

"Nice to meet you," he said.

She didn't say anything. Luckily, at that moment Laura came out the door, and the minute she saw him her whole face lit up. "Jake! Hey, baby!"

He wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in; they kissed. Helena studied his car, bored already.

After a moment, Laura broke away. "Anyway, this is Helena. She'll be riding with us for a while."

Jake laughed. "Yeah, okay. Kind of uncommunicative, isn't she?"

Laura took his hand and tugged him down the steps, motioning Helena forward, her backpack slung over her shoulder. Once she was what she judged sufficiently ahead, she muttered to him, "she's weird, actually. Hopefully mom will figure out some other way of getting her to school."

Helena got in the backseat and buckled up. Jake's driving was reckless, typical of adolescents who didn't understand danger--adolescents who did understand danger, like Caleb, were even worse in her opinion--but they got there safely. She climbed out and was assaulted by sounds and smells; more perfume, cologne, food, garbage, asphalt, aftershave, exhaust, metal, sugar, blood, grass, dust. It took only a second before the level dimmed, her mind managing the input, and she trailed them up the concrete steps.

"Hey, who's your new friend?" Someone shouted. There was a small gaggle of people grouped on the steps, and she caught side of pale blue eyes and a hard, curved mouth. Laura only waved and pulled Helena through the doors. "Come on, the office is just down here. I'll catch you later, Jake," she promised, and they kissed again. Helena wrinkled her nose, breaking away, and started down the path indicated. She could, frankly, have done without their constant reaffirmations of attraction.

Human, human, human, human. The smell saturated the lockers, the cheap carpet, the lighting and walls. It wasn't unpleasant, but she'd been hoping to find someone like her here. Maybe a hunting partner, or at least someone who would understand and could potentially cover for her, even if they didn't turn out to be friends. She'd thought she caught a hint of fox by the restroom door, but then it was gone.

"Hey! Wait up!" Laura was running after her, huffing and puffing as she slowed to a halt. "For such a little thing, you're too damn fast," she mumbled. "Okay, right here. You almost went past it."

Helena opened the door. More human, she thought, and let Laura precede her into the room.

Thirty minutes into fifth period and someone bounced a crumpled ball of paper off of her head.

She looked down, watching it roll to a stop, and studied it. Caleb and Ames had used to do that, but only when they wanted to irritate her. She had no idea what a stranger's motivation would be.

Instead Helena played with her borrowed pencil and drew doodles in the margins, bristly stick figure wolves and loopy flowers in between notes on the Crimean war. She'd tripped through her classes on a spiral notebook missing half its pages and a borrowed pencil on the verge of a stub. She wasn't a math genius, but her Uncle had worked them harder than the class here promised to, and art had consisted of a lecture on the importance of properly using the equipment. Only Mondays had all six periods, so after this one she was off scot-free.

She had spent lunch on the roof, though. She didn't know if that one was allowed, and she hadn't been concerned enough to pull a teacher aside and ask.

Laura was waiting for her outside of the building, impatient. Jake was with her, and he smelled more strongly of cigarettes, but the perfume had faded under it. Laura, as far as Helena knew, didn't wear that perfume.

She hesitated just outside of the doors, staring at them. Getting involved would be intrusive at best, and none of her business. Unwise, certainly. She didn't like the thought of angering someone she had to live with, and Bethany Green had been furious at Aunt Josephine when her husband tried something with her.

Of course, it's easy to be angry at the person who just broke your husband's nose. Just like its easy to call the person who says they can smell another girl on your boyfriend a liar.

Helena shook her head in disgust and trotted down the stairs. She knew better than to get involved, anyway. Humans were pissy about their privacy.

"Hey, new girl!"

She hadn't seen him because he was crouched near them against the stairs, picking at the grass. She thought she recognized some of the people who had been on the steps earlier; a tall girl with dark brown hair and long pale legs, a boy with glittering dark eyes, and short stocky redhead who didn't open his eyes or take off his earphones.

She recognized the boy she'd caught a glimpse of, though. He bounded to his feet, all tall angles and arrogantly cocked hip. He had spiked dark hair and those pale eyes, and a confident smile. He was very young and very human, she judged. He had a lazy confidence in his own power that surprised her a little.

And he smelled like sex.

She recoiled as soon as she came close enough to notice clearly amidst the cacophony of other scents, skirting him and covering her nose. Where was Emma? She really didn't need to know these things about her fellow students.

Laura had gone red. "Sorry, she's just weird," she was saying, this time not bothering to modulate her voice.

The boy's eyebrows had risen. "What, she's saying I stink?"

The dark eyed one laughed softly, voice deep and even. "Got that right."

"Fuck you," the boy said amiably, grinning.

Probably, take a shower next time you fuck someone during lunch break would be rude, and also unsubtle. She wasn't supposed to do irregular things, like admitting she could smell--oh. Oops. Probably treating her classmates like they had communicable diseases was also irregular. What if Emma was pissed off at her?

Behind her, a horn honked.

"Great, that's mom," Laura said, rolling her eyes. "Come on."

Jake gave a half wave as she rushed past, and Helena followed her, glancing back once at the students sprawled on the grass and the school rising above them, cutting into the sky.