She’d experienced this pulse before, but not often. She knew what it was, too. After she’d moved in, once she was getting on with reading, Jonathan had brought her a book written for adolescents about sex. He’d been embarrassed when she’d had questions but had answered some of them. For others, he’d begged her to go to the Internet. She had, which had only raised more questions, as well as making her think that the males of the human species were nearly as brutal as her own kind.

When she’d shown Jonathan the evidence of this, he’d turned purple, told her to “stay the hell away from filthy videos,” and then fussed at her for giving the computer a virus. He got her another book after that, one for human adults that had more information about pleasure and less about reproduction. It had included information about men with women, men with men, and women with women.

None of it had stirred her. Hæra had no attraction to humans in pictures or videos, and she was exposed to few in person. She’d felt a similar pulse between her legs in the presence of a beautiful woman tourist she’d seen on a brief trip to the village, but it had passed quickly enough. She’d decided it was just her human form’s way of consoling itself in a new environment.

Lying in bed, listening to seductive songs while thinking about Madeleine, was different.

Hæra bit her lower lip. Her incisors pushed against the soft, full flesh. All of a sudden, she imagined that she was biting Madeleine’s lower lip instead.

She gasped. She hadn’t meant to; the thought had drawn it out of her. It drew something else out of her too: another pulse, stronger and hotter.

Without her will, her hand went between her legs to press against the pulse, as if trying to contain it. It didn’t work. If anything, the pressure of her hand made everything worse—or better. Her hips pushed forward, as if of their own volition, and Hæra’s eyes fell shut.

Her imagination swam ahead on its own. In her mind’s eye, she loosened her teeth on Madeleine’s lip; her bite had drawn from Madeleine a groan, the kind she’d given on the beach that night. Now, Hæra’s mouth softened. Both her lips pressed to Madeleine’s, and Madeleine’s lips opened for her in return. They exchanged the same kiss as on the beach that night all those years ago. Sister Madeleine’s lips had been cold, but her mouth was warm. And she’d opened it so readily for Hæra, as if she’d been waiting for her.