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realized she had gone over the ridge. Now they tried to move silently, sure that their victim had gone to earth
close by.
Ryan came up behind one of the men. He never even heard her. Her strong arm curled around his neck,
choking off any breath. She twisted sharply with her superhuman strength, and his neck broke with a soft pop.
She lowered him to the ground silently. She could feel the power of the hunt singing in her veins now. She
growled softly and began to stalk her second victim. All of her senses were heightened. She could hear as the
man rustled the leaves to her right. She could smell his unwashed body, and she wrinkled her nose a bit at the
stink of his arousal. But it was her sense of vision that was the most powerful when she hunted. The man almost
glowed with corpulent red light. She could see the blood swirling through his veins even at this distance, even
through the leaves and branches that stood between them.
Ryan intentionally rattled some branches. The man rose from his half crouch and softly called out his
companion's name. Ryan could hear the first touch of fear in his voice. Good, she thought. She moved without
sound, a shadow among shadows until she was behind the man. He was moving toward where his dead
companion lay. Ryan made soft sounds in her throat, sounds the man was not even aware of hearing but which
made the hairs on his arms stand up. She was driving him now. He kept calling his friend's name, all lust
chilled from his veins. Now his blood ran cold with fear. Ryan played with his senses, tossing a stone to his right
or left to make him start. Howling softly so that he knew he was being stalked. At last he broke and ran, only to
come crashing down when he tripped over his dead friend. Ryan gave him just enough time to comprehend
what he had fallen over, and then she was on him.
Ryan turned the man over to face her with a contemptuous flip of her arm. He cowered before her now.
"Do you like it?" Ryan whispered. "Do you like being the hunted instead of the hunter?"
The man only whimpered in reply. He looked up at her pale face and knew it was death at whom he stared.
"She isn't the first you've hunted, is she?"
"Yes& yes, I swear, it was just a joke. We meant her no harm." The man was blubbering Now. His accents
were more refined than Ryan had anticipated. She took a moment to examine his clothing. It was no peasant's
weave but sturdy broadcloth such as a merchant might wear. For a moment the mystery of who the man was
intrigued Ryan, but she was too embroiled in the hunt for it to be more then a passing thought.
"Why don't I believe you?" Ryan asked. She grabbed the man's hair and forced his head back. He had soiled
himself already in his fear. Now she let him get a good look at her long fangs before she bent and bit his throat.
She could feel him struggle, writhing with pain in her grasp, and she bit and tore his flesh. The blood was
tinged with the sharpness of fear, but for once, Ryan savored it that way. She continued to tear at his throat,
drinking deeply of his blood and pain.
Ryan searched the bodies. There were heavy purses of coin at both men's belts. She hid these inside her tunic.
They were both armed with daggers but obviously not practiced at using them. The second man had not even
thought of drawing the blade. She stripped them both of their clothing, leaving only the soiled trousers on the
second man. It was after she removed the outer tunics that she had some clue to their identities. They both wore
heavy, silver crosses beneath their tunics, and on their fingers they wore rings with the church's crest. They
were probably some kind of lay messengers of the church. Wrapping her hand in several layers of cloth, Ryan
removed the crosses and rings as well. She would not keep these symbols of a religion that would consider her
an anathema, but to leave them would have looked suspicious. What kind of thief would leave fine silver
behind? She bundled the clothing and boots together and hid them in a tree. She would retrieve them after she
had seen the girl back to her town. The bodies she rolled into a ditch and wished the foxes and other scavengers
a fine meal of them.
"Are you all right?" Ryan asked softly of the girl still curled inside the hollow where she had left her.
Brynn sat up, wiping her eyes. She looked very young and vulnerable, and impulsively, Ryan put an arm
around her.
"Are they gone?"
"Yes, they won't be a problem anymore tonight. Rest a few minutes more and I'll take you back to your
village."
"How do you know where I live?" Brynn asked.
Ryan smiled. "Where else would you live? It's a good five or six miles to the next village, and there are no farms
out around this way. My name is Ryan, by the way."
"I'm Brynn. What were you doing out here, Ryan? You don't live in my town." It would not occur to Brynn that
Ryan could be a traveler. Women just did not travel alone.
"I live here in the forest."
"You do? Why?"
"My family sent me away, and I had no place else to go."
"Oh."
"Can you walk Now?" Ryan helped Brynn up and brushed the dead leaves from her skirts. As they walked,
Ryan questioned the girl about her home. Her fists tightened when Brynn told her how angry her father would
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