“I’ve been outside, several times since arriving and have spoken to just about everyone out there.  Why do I need to do it again?”

“That was different.  That was their chance to impress you.  This is their chance to present themselves before you as a viable option.  I know you’re not ready for anything yet.  They just want you to know they will be whenever you are.”

I didn’t want to go out there, but I’d watched enough over the last few days to know they wouldn’t go away.  Perhaps once they had their chance to say hello in an official way, they would leave.  It was a fragile hope.  Still, I sighed and nodded.  If they’d been trying to impress me in a positive way, they’d failed.  They were too intense and aggressive.  I thought of Anton and frowned as I stood.  Winifred stood, too, and started toward the door.

“You can talk to all of them in their heads, right?” I said.

“Yes.  Individually, like I’ve been doing with Mary, or all at once like I did when I told them not to bite you.”

“Could you tell Anton I’m sorry?”

She stopped walking and turned to study me.

“Do you care for him?” she asked.  Her gaze searched mine, and I knew she didn’t mean general caring for the welfare of another human being.

“I don’t know him well enough to care for him the way you mean, but I do care about him as a person.  I care that he was hurt just because he helped me.  It was wrong, and I’m sorry it happened.”

“It wasn’t a random, vengeful attack,” she said.  “It was a challenge for dominance.  The others saw your preference and challenged him to prove his worth.  You want the strongest of them, the one who will keep you safe.”

“I understand you have your own traditions, and I don’t condemn them.  Yet, I won’t condone them either.  Your beliefs are not mine, and I won’t follow them.  I do not want the strongest man.  I don’t want any man.”

She considered me for a moment.  “Letting him know you’re sorry will only encourage him to pursue you.  If you intend to stay, that is.”

Apologizing would ease my conscience, but I understood what she was telling me.  Staying here would mean making some hard choices.  It would mean compromising my ideals about how people should be treated.  At times, I might have to sacrifice what I wanted to appease those around me.  And, there were other definite pros and cons to consider.

Fighting would occur, and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it unless I was willing to use my power.  Could I enforce my will upon others to keep peace?  The hypocrisy of the idea wasn’t lost on me.  I’d just told Winifred I wouldn’t bend to their beliefs, but here I stood, considering bending theirs.

Not only did they fight often, but they thought nothing of stealing and tended not to wear clothes.  Could I ignore all of that?  I doubted I would.  So, if I didn’t want to bend their wills or ignore their less than appealing qualities, where did that leave me?

Although I knew they would keep fighting over me, I was willing to bet they would use that same instinct to fight to keep this place hidden.  Living here would mean I, too, could remain hidden from the world.  I looked at the ceiling, hoping the universe would give me an answer.  However, I received silence.

I sighed and said what I felt was true.

“Despite the bites I received as a welcome, I think this is the safest place for me to live.”  Winifred smiled at my words.  “But, I’ll leave if that ever changes.”

“If this isn’t the safest place for you, I’ll drive you to a better place,” she promised.

Safest wasn’t always the best place, but I didn’t say more.  When she turned and strode to the door, Mary and I followed her.

Due to the recent rain and the many people milling about, the yard had turned into mire.  The ground squished up around my shoes as I stepped out behind Winifred.  We didn’t go far.  She had backed a pickup truck to the door.  Several piles of pants were stacked in the bed along with a few paper grocery bags.

Activity stopped when we appeared, and the men turned toward us.  Winifred hopped into the bed of the truck.  Elevated so everyone could see her, she addressed the men.

“Charlene is not like us.  Though I’d like to consider her one of our own, we can’t treat her the same.  When you step forward to introduce yourself, you will keep a minimum distance of three feet.”

The men moved restlessly, and several eyed Winifred angrily.

“This isn’t to limit your contact or time with her but to ensure her safety.  Look at her.”

All eyes turned to me.  No one looked angry any more.  Impatient, yes.  Eager, definitely.  But not angry.

As they continued to stare, I began to feel like an exhibit at the zoo.  I gave Mary a sidelong glance.  She wasn’t looking at me but at the men around us.  I focused on them as well.

“Look at her neck,” Winifred said.  “She doesn’t see those bites as attempted Claims but as hostile, aggressive attacks.  These last few days, how has she been around you?  Did she seem completely comfortable?”

Heat crept into my cheeks, and a few of them looked concerned.

“She hasn’t healed yet.  She doesn’t know our ways.  Would you blame her if she feared you?  Is keeping your distance too much for her to ask?”

I hadn’t said anything about them keeping their distance.  Yes, they made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t care for how Winifred painted me.  I wasn’t a weak coward.

“It’s not the distance that worries me,” I said, looking at Winifred.  “It’s the teeth.”

A man stepped forward from the rest.

“I am—”

The man behind him reached out and grabbed his arm.  The first man growled, turned, and morphed in one fluid motion.  Shredded pants flapped around his furred loins as he launched himself at the man who’d grabbed him.

After that, I lost my patience.  Didn’t they just hear me?  I searched for the threads of their wills and grabbed them.  The strands slipped away from me.  I tried again.

The male bodies piled on one another as they continued to fight.

On my second attempt, I held tighter.  The unyielding firmness of their thin wills surprised me as each one slid from my grasp as if oiled.  Panic set in.  I’d counted on being able to control them.  If I couldn’t...  My breathing grew harsh, and my throat tightened.

A hand clapped over my shoulder and pulled me backward just as a male body flew past me.

“Come on, Charlene,” Mary said as she continued to guide me back toward the door.  My hands shook as terror set in.  They were human enough to have wills, to reason with, but not to control.  And they were animal enough to hurt me.  Badly.

“Enough,” Winifred shouted.

Her will caught my attention, and I stopped moving.  Wills weren’t something I could actually see as much as I could sense and visualize.  But what she did amazed me.  She split her will.

The single fiber of her resolve divided into twenty, like a tree with branches.  Each branch whipped out toward a fighting man.  The threads flew so fast I thought they would pierce the men.  Instead, at the last moment, they slowed; and the glowing end of her determination touched the center of each man's forehead.  It happened in less than a second.  All of the men stopped fighting as if listening to her command.  Yet, it wasn’t just that.  She’d implanted the need to listen.

The branches of her resolve shrank as she pinned the men with her narrowed gaze.

“It’s not enough,” one of them said.  “You’ve already taken away our right to Claim her.  You cannot take away our right to speak with her.”

Chills swept through me as several of the men glanced my way.  Mary’s hand tightened on my shoulders, but neither of us moved closer to the door.

“Of course not,” Winifred said.  She didn’t sooth or try to persuade them with words.  Again, her will whipped out and tapped their foreheads, fast and brief.