"Haven't you ever wondered what you are, Mg?"

Her lips curled back over her teeth and a low growl erupted through her bared teeth. It wasn't the words that angered her though. It was herself – a power in the pit of her stomach that seemed to swirl and spit fire. An energy she could feel, but couldn't seem to get a handle on.

"You growl," the voice said and a stifled laugh accompanied it. "Normal girls don't growl, Mg. Animals growl." The voice stopped, almost as if it expected a response. It continued when none came. "You're better than them, Mg. The humans, I mean. You're faster, and you're stronger. Smarter too. You don't belong in their world."

Again, her response was a growl. She was listening to the voice now. It was right, but she was more annoyed than anything. She needed to focus on the demon-like feeling in her gut, and the voice only seemed to egg it on. She felt like she was losing more and more control with each passing second. And so she shifted into a crouching position and lunged in the direction the voice seemed to be coming from. Laughter was the only response. She'd caught nothing in her outstretched arms. She lunged again. Nothing. Laughter. And again.

"Mg."

It was a different voice. The laugher was fading, and it caused her to growl yet again in frustration.

"Mg?"

Her eyes opened slowly, and she shot up, her head coming into contact with the person's leaning over her. It was her older sister, and the girl shot into a standing position, her hands held over her head.

"Dammit, Mg!"

Mg didn't feel bad. "You shouldn't stand so close," she snapped. She definitely wasn't a morning person, and her dream had done nothing to help her typical waking mood.

"Whatever," her sister said irritably. "You looked like you were having a nightmare."

"Not really. Just a weird dream." She pushed her blanket off her and swung her short legs over the side of her bed, only just then noticing the thin film of sweat on her face and back. "What time is it?"

"Eight thirty," her sister responded, an urgent tone only just coming into her voice. "You're going to be late."

Mg shot to her feet, she'd moved across the room to her dresser in record time. "You couldn't have told me that sooner?!" Her voice was angry even though it wasn't here sister fault. It wasn't her responsibility to make sure her dead head of a baby sister got up in time to go to school. Still, she really wasn't a morning person, and Sam had pretty much learned to accept that.

Sam didn't say much of anything to her little sister the rest of the morning. She knew better; they'd only wind up fighting if she did. Instead she brewed her daily cup of tea and made a fresh pot of coffee for Mg, who ran down the stairs, grabbed it and took it with her, only pausing to throw her sister a look that clearly said 'if it wasn't nine in the morning, I'd thank you.'

She rushed out the door and hopped into her car, a 2002 Honda Accord and a present from her parents on her twentieth birthday, speeding off in the direction of the local community college. The car was much nicer than anything she could have afforded on her fast food management job, and she was thankful for it. She'd wrecked and totaled her first car during and ice storm the year before. Needless to say, she didn't drive in ice anymore. She'd never been a very good driver in the first place.

The school wasn't far, and she rushed into her first class about fifteen minutes late. The teacher only sent her an annoyed look and went on with his lecture. "Demons," he was saying, "were very real, and they surrounded the human race." What a nut.

School had gone by slow, and work had gone by excruciatingly slow, and it didn't help Mg's already dwindling mood to find that her car refused to start, her sister was at work and unable to come pick her up, and the sky had started to echo with thunder.

"Great," she grumbled as she slammed the door to her car, locked it up and began the trek home. It had snowed just two days ago, been sunny all day yesterday, and now this. Damn Missouri weather.

It was at this thought that the first of the rain began to fall, and she grumbled more under her breath. It was in this way that she walked the majority of the way to her home, stopping only when a stout, overweight man fell into line behind her, his umbrella held over his head. Mg had glanced over her should when he'd followed for a while, but she thought nothing up it and chastised herself for being so paranoid. She lived in a small town, and nothing ever really happened. And really, what could the fat man do if he had indeed had ill intentions? It wasn't like she couldn't outrun the walrus-like man.

So she ignored him, and he followed. The uneasy feeling came back when, after turning several corners, he was still a few feet behind her. It was then that she broke into a run. Sure, he'd think she was paranoid if he hadn't intended to bother her, but that was a risk she didn't mind taking. She glanced behind her again after a few blocks and slowed to a walk again, satisfied that she'd lost the stout creeper. It was when she turned to glance behind her, though, that her body came into contact with something round and soft.

Her body bounced off the object as if she'd run square into a trampoline, and it was the same stout man that stood in front of her. He cleared his throat and closed the umbrella. The rain still didn't touch him, and Mg told herself that her mind was playing tricks on her as she stared up at him from her place on the ground.

"You shouldn't run from your elders," the man complained, his voice annoyingly high pitched.

"Who are you?" She'd been attempting to sound brave, but she wasn't so sure she'd accomplished that.

"Edward McClinsky III at your service." The phrasing was polite enough, but he still sounded more annoyed than anything. "I'll cut right to business then." He twisted at the handle of the umbrella and yanked at it, pulling out a sword-like instrument. It was the reddish-brown stain at its tip that willed Mg to her feet. "I've been sent to dispose of you."

Mg wasn't sure whether she should be terrified or amused. The man looked serious enough about his intentions, but what could her really do? He looked like an awfully pathetic excuse for and assassin. "What the hell are you talking about?" She'd found her voice again.

"Oh, I suppose I can explain it. You'll be dead soon anyways." The man waved the sword in a nonchalant motion as he spoke. "Haven't you ever wondered what you are, Mg?"

Her eyes widened, and she backed further away. It was the line from her dream that frightened her, but her question strayed from her true fear. "How do you know my name?"

The man just laughed and went on, ignoring her question. "You're better than them, Mg. The humans, I mean. You're faster, and you're stronger. Smarter too. You don't belong in their world."

"I'm human."

"You're a disgusting half-blood," he spat back and took a step towards her, weapon brandished.

She turned to run, but before she could take a single step, he was in front of her again, his body twisting and contorting in ways no human being's should. "What are you?" It was a whisper, and she was surprised he'd heard it over the sound of the rain.

"A demon," he said simply, as his image became still again. His voice was deeper, and he looked more intimidating now, but he looked human enough. His muscled torso was bare, and he towered above her – not that everyone didn't. "Just like you, Mg. But without the dirty human blood."

"Is that why you want to kill me?" She wasn't sure why she believed him; it was all, after all, so unbelievable. But what he'd said was true. She'd been the fastest person on her track team in high school, and she'd been stronger than even the buffest male athletes, not to mention the fact that she'd never picked up a book outside of school in her life, and she still receive top marks with little to no effort. But that didn't mean anything. She was pretty average looking, other people got good grades too, and she'd lost more than a race or two due to her sheer klutziness.

He didn't answer her. Instead he laughed again and leaned towards her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and whispering into it. "I'll give you a head start. Two days." His hot breath sent chills down her spine, and he was gone so fast she couldn't even tell which way he'd gone.

Fact: She was fast. He was faster. She was going to die.

"Mg, this is crazy! Of course you're my sister!"

"Tell that to the paperwork!" Mg had, in hand a copy of her birth certificate, her mother's name printed upon it. Her father's name was missing, or, rather, Sam's father's name was missing.

"So what, Mg! Half sisters by blood! That doesn't change anything!"

"It changes everything!" A crazy, shape-shifting monster wouldn't be hunter her if it didn't. Of course, she hadn't told Sam that. It was better if she thought Mg's real reason for leaving was a bit more realistic than the fairy-tale smut truth. "I'm going!"

"You have school! And a job! You can't just pick up and leave your life behind!"

"I'll call you." Mg's voice was calmer, and she gave her sister a stony look.

"Where are you going?" Sam looked defeated.

"I don't know." And she was gone.

"I like to purchase a ticket."

The woman behind the counter gave Mg a bored look. "Where to?"

"Surprise me. And make it a one way."

The woman's expression was soft now. "What you runnin' from, sweetheart?"

Mg shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Someone'll miss ya, hun."

"No one'll miss me."

The woman didn't respond to that. "Can I see your ID?" Mg pushed it through the small opening in the glass, knowing the woman wanted to see if she was an adult or not. The woman glanced at the card and pushed it back. "You don't look twenty."

"I know." She put the ID away.

The woman smiled at her. "No idea where you wanna go then?" When Mg didn't answer, she continued. "Well what about California? Santa Carla?"

Mg thought about it a moment. That was definitely far away enough. "What's it like there?"

The woman went into and long spiel, telling here of the beachside towns never-ending nightlife, of it's busy boardwalk and beach side theme park. The place honestly sounded like paradise to Mg. Not only that, it was busy. It was crowded and it was loud. Surely, Edward wouldn't be able to find her there.

The woman paused after talking for a long time. "Somewhere else perhaps?" She wasn't sure Mg was interested.

"Santa Carla sounds great."

The woman's smile brightened. "Oh, you'll just love it there!" Her expression grew grave only moments later though, and her voice became serious. "You should be careful out there, hun. The world's a dangerous place."

Mg gave her a smile. "Will do."

The woman let out a sigh and smiled again. "That'll be 260," she stated brightly.

Mg pushed her money across through the glass and the woman pushed her ticket back. "Thanks."

The woman caught Mg's hand before she could pull back and gave her another serious look. "Good luck, hun."

Mg smiled and thanked her, turning and waiting for her train in silence and as far from the woman as possible. It wasn't that it was bad that she cared. She actually kind of frightened Mg. The mood swings mostly. Happy one moment, serious or sad the next. Those were the kind of people you had to watch out for. It seemed like you never really knew when they were going to snap.