III
I gaped at her and didn't know what to say. My instincts were screaming at me to run, but I forced myself to stay where I was. She seemed friendly enough.
"Hello," I said as I got to my feet.
She smiled at me, her expression quizzical. She was taller than me, but not much, and her skin white as marble, whiter than mine. She was beautiful. And the scent… I swallowed. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and yet I didn't feel threatened. Much, anyway. It was weird. Or confusing. Or both. And – something else bothered me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.
"I am Esme." She stepped back, hands folded loosely behind her back n a non-threatening way. Her voice was lovely, too. "Who are you?"
"I don't really have a name," I replied, my voice guarded. Her eyebrows rose, and I shrugged. I'd gone through eighteen foster families – and probably set a record – and had had fourteen names, but none of them really fit. My mother hadn't been able to name me. I didn't even know if she'd realized she'd given birth to a daughter before she died. She'd expected to have a boy; she'd always called me by my father's name.
"Why not?" she asked eventually.
I shrugged again.
Esme smiled. "Never mind. Would you like to come inside?"
How strange of her to invite someone she didn't know into her house. A trap? I didn't think so. Maybe she just didn't have any reason to be afraid.
"I don't know…" I said just as the sun broke finally through the clouds. My mouth fell open in surprise. The light reflected off her skin: a million diamonds sparkling in the sun. It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
And suddenly I realized what had bothered me before.
She didn't have a heartbeat.
I gasped for air, already moving away and back into the forest.
"Wait!" she cried, reaching for me.
I bolted.