The bulging pocket of a teenaged girl caught her attention. She fell in line behind the gaggle of local girls, keeping a few yuppies in between them for camouflage. It was easy to tell the locals and the yupsters apart. The city slickers tried too hard to fit in, making themselves stick out like sore thumbs.

They passed a few game booths like Pop-A-Pumpkin with darts and orange balloons. Prudence drifted closer to the teens, easily weaving between people. She occasionally surveyed the crowd with a casual glance to make sure no one was watching. One eye stayed on the girl and her pocket. She was an older teen, almost grown up. Eighteen or nineteen, Pru guessed. So she might have something good on her, like cigarettes. Or junk like used, balled up tissues or bubblegum.

Who knew with kids these days? They were such slobs. Not like when Pru was young; back then, society had standards. Now, she was often mistaken for an older teen or a young twenty something by the humans. It annoyed her to no end. Given her looks, her age when she’d been bit, been turned, it was only natural that the humans would get confused with her age. She still looked the same as she had a century ago. Her physical body was in her prime; hell, she was in better shape than when she was a human. Physical perfection; beautiful and lethal. A predator in her prime. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The longer she lived, the less human she felt. Like that part of her was slipping away. Sometimes, she forgot herself and had trouble connecting with the humans. Blending in with the humans used to be as natural as breathing as she adapted to her new state of being. Now, that state felt natural and acting human was a foreign language, clumsy on her tongue.

The girls whispered and giggled, heads bent together. The murmurs and laughter of the other pedestrians milling all around them should have drowned out their voices. Pru heard them easily from several feet away, as clear as if she stood right next to them. She picked up each voice as well as each individual scent. She sniffed the air, her nose and brain filtering and automatically cataloging each scent like a canine.

“Rosie, you sure it’s okay to leave Lucas by himself?” A girl with acne asked the girl with the bulging pocket. Pru’s ears perked up at that. Could the girl with the bulging pocket be cousin of Lucas the doll maker? It was a small town; Pru was sure she’d just hit pay dirt. She paid closer attention to the girls.

“He’s fine.” Rosie sounded annoyed. Like the topic was getting old.

“He seemed pretty freaked out.” The tallest of the group chimed in.

“Yeah, you know how he is. What if he has one of his anxiety freak outs or something?” Acne girl frowned at Rosie.

“They’re called panic attacks. And he won’t. He’ll be fine. We’re just going through the haunted house. We’ll be back in like five minutes.”

“I feel bad. Just leaving him like that. He looked like he was gonna cry.” Tall girl looked back over her shoulder. Prudence casually turned her head, like she was thinking about buying a candy apple from the nearest food booth. Just another face in the crowd.

Rosie made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. “He’s got his fucking bear and a dry diaper. He’s fucking fine. Just because he’s in a wheelchair doesn’t mean he’s a full blown tard. Quit looking at me like I smashed one of his dumb dolls. Now, it’s Halloween. I’d like to have a little bit of fun with my best friends without my fucking cry baby cousin completely ruining my night. Is that too much to ask?” She rounded on the other girls.

They met her eyes for a brief moment then looked away, awkward and uncomfortable. Rosie stared at them for several heart beats. None of them looked back at her. She sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m sorry. Look. Lucas even said it was okay. He said he didn’t mind if we went to the haunted house. So let’s just go and get back, okay? I’ll get him a candy apple or something.” That last part swayed the other girls. They nodded and continued walking.