Amanda's proposal sounded attractive enough to Rachel, if she and Amanda were two other women. The idea of starring together in a sword and sandal television show would have been a wonderful thing for a couple of lifelong girlfriends. Amanda's celebrity status alone would have assured at least a one-season run. The idea had merit.

"So, what do you think?" Amanda asked. " 'Baby, I'm gonna make you a star!' I always wanted to say that to someone."

"It's not a bad idea at all. And I am grateful that you think of me as star material," Rachel allowed.

Amanda's eyes lit up. "Oh, can I take it that you're on board with this idea?"

"Well, I'm not really sure we would work well as a tv team. Critics might say," Rachel paused for a moment before coming up with, "the chemistry is bad between us or something."

"Oh? I like to think that the chemistry between us could be excellent under certain conditions," Amanda said with an ambiguous smile.

I wonder if she's thinking of the chemical processes that my flesh would undergo in her digestive track, Rachel thought to herself, but said aloud, "Oh, that's just the kind of thing critics say when they mean actresses look like they should be some other place doing something else."

"And what else could we be doing?" There was a little flirtatiousness in Amanda's manner.

Rachel decided that this was as good an opening as any. "Well, with a few conditions being agreed to, we could be having another hunt. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Are you serious?" Amanda seemed to think she was being teased.

"Yes." Rachel couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, Rache! That's a great idea! I haven't had a good practice run in ages! I'm sure I can book the lodge for some Saturday this month. If the first hunt ends too quickly, maybe we could work in two or three. I'll tell you what: I'll have a cabin at the lodge set up for us to spend the night. I can bring along some scripts, and..."

Rachel raised her hand as a signal for Amanda to slow down for a moment. "Amanda, I'm not talking about a practice hunt."

"Oh, you'd like for there to be some sort of stake involved? Say, the loser will wash the winner's car for a month? As long as it doesn't involve laundry, I'm open to suggestion." Amanda gave Rachel her best playful leer and suggested, "Of course, there is the possibility of serving the winner as a sex slave for, oh, how long could you make yourself available? A week or two?"

"As appealing as that might be," - and Rachel did find it rather appealing, she had to admit - "I had something in mind rather like our first hunt."

Amanda was incredulous. "You mean, you're talking about a hunt for blood?"

"With certain conditions, yes."

Amanda's reaction was not something Rachel had expected, but she should have.

Amanda leaned forward, a worried look on her face. "Rachel, are you all right? I mean, you're not ill - physically sick or anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Well, are you in trouble? Is somebody out to get you?" More than a trace of anger.

"No, Amanda. My life isn't being threatened by disease or by underworld characters."

"Then why? Do you need money? I hope you know that I'd be glad to help. Paying me back wouldn't be a problem if we do the tv show together."

Amanda's concern seemed genuine and made it just a little hard for Rachel to press on, but she did. "No, Amanda. I'm doing well for myself. I didn't do our first hunt for money, anyway. In fact, if I get a runner's fee, I'll probably donate it to charity. I'm making this suggestion because I'm sure that it's what you really want."

"Rache, you are full of surprises." Amanda shook her head. "I've told you, we don't need to do a real hunt for blood. I told you that I would be satisfied with getting you into the sack."

"No. You said you would settle for getting me into the sack," Rachel corrected. "There is a big difference between being satisfied and settling for something."

Amanda looked away, either realizing the truth of this or not wanting to argue semantics.

"There may be feelings between us that are too intense to go forever unresolved." Rachel was surprised to hear this come out of her mouth. It was not part of her preplanned presentation. She wondered for a moment where it came from, but quickly returned to her script. "Amanda, truthfully, you still think about how nice it would have been to eat me, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. It's the way I am. But that is not all there is to me. Yes, I was angry that we were interrupted by the poacher. But I have never regretted any of my actions or inactions that night. I'd really like to believe there are lots of possibilities for us."

Part of Rachel wanted to ask if Amanda thought she could ever be glad that they were interrupted, but Rachel did not want to deal with either answer. Instead, she said, "I agree that there are a lot of energies between us that could lead two women almost anywhere - if those two women weren't us."

Rather stiffly, Amanda said, "Don't you mean 'if one of the women wasn't me'?"

"No, Amanda, I will own responsibility, too," Rachel admitted. "True, ninety-five out of a hundred people would say that I have the moral high ground here and that I'm right not to want to be involved with someone who does what you do. But the other five people might say that I'm being unreasonably rigid and uncompromising, that I should be more open-minded."

"I don't suppose you have phone numbers for any of those five people, do you?" A bit of self-mockery in her voice.

"Even if I were to try to ignore what bothers me about you, even if I were to try to open my heart as well as my mind, even if I were successful at that - let's say that, suppose the very best scenario occurred between us and you and I became committed lovers..."

"I'm glad to hear you think that is the best possible scenario." Spoken with a pleasant smile.

Rachel had not meant to be encouraging, but she did not backtrack. "Even if that happened, I get a terrible image in my mind."

Amanda cocked an eyebrow.

"I get this picture of us lying in bed together after a night of making love..."

"Yes, a terrible image," Amanda said, taking another sip of her wine.

"...and I've fallen asleep beside you. Then, for some reason or another, I wake up and I see that you're propped up on an elbow looking at me. Now, for most lovers, that would be a tender moment. I might imagine that you were thinking about how beautiful I was (in your eyes, of course) or how much you love me. But instead, I couldn't help but think that you were thinking about how nice it would have been if you had killed and eaten me."

"That wouldn't mean I didn't think you were beautiful or, well, the other."

"I just don't think I could live with that. But, even if I could just put that out of my mind, there would be something that I'm sure I could never deal with," Rachel said.

"And that would be?" Amanda asked, quite seriously.

"It's about the people you hunt and kill and eat, especially the women. I know there's a reason why you want to eat women and not deer or rabbits. I don't know what that reason is, and I don't think you would tell me if I asked." Rachel hesitated, really hoping that Amanda would give a signal that she would discuss the subject if prodded.

"Go on," said Amanda, not confirming or denying what Rachel had said.

"But I believe that you have a special relationship with the women you eat."

"And you would be jealous of that?"

"I don't think of myself as a jealous type. Yes, maybe, but that isn't really the point."

Amanda didn't prompt; she waited for Rachel to continue.

Rachel took a deep breath.

"Amanda, when you told me about how you wouldn't let any of me go to waste, how you would be eating me for a long time, I said that was like serial monogamy."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, this may sound really, really silly, but I wouldn't want to come between you and the women you eat. The notion that you were going to consume me and me alone for weeks or months, made me feel very, very special. Like I would be a part of you."

"You would," Amanda said softly.

"I wouldn't expect you to remain celibate, but having a one-on-one romantic relationship with someone - that would interfere with the - I hate to use this word because of the religious connotations, but I will - the communion you have with those women. I would feel like I was coming between you and them, diverting your attention from them. And, if a woman is going to give her life, I think she deserves to have you all to herself, in a sense. I would feel as though I were a piece on the side for someone who should be happy in her marriage. As long as you hunt, I couldn't help feeling that way."

"I understand." Sincerely spoken.

"And I could never ask you to give up hunting. I wouldn't. I might want you to quit, but even if I could somehow force you to, I wouldn't do that because demanding that much of a change in someone is, in a way, destroying her. She would not be the same person. The person she was would cease to exist. It would be almost as bad as..."

"Killing someone and eating her?" Amanda suggested.

"Maybe. I wouldn't feel right about it."

"Not even if it was necessary in order to make her a part of your life?"

Rachel shook her head. "If someone decided for herself that she wanted to change, I'd help all I could. But a woman won't want to change unless she thinks that she'll be better off for the change. And if it isn't self-evident that the change will be an improvement, it's very tough to sell her on the idea. The happier a woman is with the way she is, the tougher a job it is. Some women are very happy with themselves just the way they are."

Both women were silent for a few moments.

"Rache," Amanda said finally, "you aren't the only person whose life I've saved. You aren't even the only person I have ever refrained from killing after a successful hunt. But you do occupy a unique niche in my life. I've let myself become fond of that uniqueness, and I am not really anxious to give it up. But, Rache, what you are suggesting is very difficult for me to refuse, even if part of me might want to."

"Well," said Rachel, "I did mention some conditions. Those might make it easier for you to refuse." Saying to herself, I hope - or at least, I think I hope.

"Yes, your conditions." Amanda sighed. "What? Do you want to be better armed? Do you want us to hunt each other? Do you want to be better armed than I am? So many things have been tried. Would you like me to be completely unarmed? Maybe you would like to hunt me?"

"No, Amanda. Same weapons as before. Knife for me. A bow, arrows, and a knife for you. I'm not a hunter. We stay in the same roles: you the predator, me the prey."

"I prefer 'hunter' and 'quarry,' but I won't argue. Maybe we could go someplace new, unfamiliar to both of us."

"No, we can go back to the same lodge. All of my conditions have to do with making the hunt more realistic, more like a real, actual hunt."

"Do tell." Amanda was curious.

Rachel drew a deep breath. "In a hunt that isn't set up according to some artificial guidelines, the hunter is, of course, usually familiar with the hunting grounds. She may go there very often; it might be a second home to her. But, in nature, the hunting ground is the first and only home of the prey. The prey knows its territory as well as we know our living rooms and bedrooms. I want to know the ground I will be hunted upon that well. I want to become a part of the environment, not just a visitor to it. I want to try to find a way to use the hunting ground, to find protection in it"

"Well, if you want to camp out there for week or two, that would be hard to arrange, if you wanted to be alone. The lodge is in relatively constant use."

"No, I don't want to live there," Rachel explained. "But I do want practice hunts - lots of them. I want to be able to practice and experiment and learn from my mistakes. And I want those hunts with someone other than you, naturally."

"Naturally. No point letting the opposing team see your training sessions. Okay. How many do you want?"

"At least six. Eight, if I can get them."

Amanda reflected a moment. "Out of the several hundred members of the lodge, I can think of four - no, five - genuine sportsmen and women who would give you a good, sincere hunt even if your tasty little rump or some other reward weren't on the line, just for the sake of doing their personal best." After a pause, she added, "And the way I told everyone how good you were and how hard you were to catch, I'm sure there are dozens who would put forth an effort beyond their usual just so that they could brag that they caught you faster than I did. Or even catch you at all - that would be enough of a boost for most of their egos. You can pick and choose. I'll give you the 'book' on them, so that you know who's good and who isn't. Eight should be no problem. You could have more if you want."

"No, eight should be enough. If I don't learn what I need in eight runs, I won't learn it in a hundred. And taking more runs that I need could be like over-rehearsing in the theater."

"Makes sense. Now, I don't know why you thought this wouldn't appeal to me." Amanda seemed a little hurt. "I hope you know that the better the chance that the quarry has, the more I enjoy the hunt. Having you better prepared will make it more fun for both of us."

"Yes, and," Rachel added significantly, "at the end of it, one of us will have a good memory to look back on."

Amanda was disturbed. "Rache, surely you mean that 'AT LEAST one of us will have a good memory.' You'll have a better chance than ever. I don't want you going fatalistic on me."

"Well," said Rachel, "you haven't heard all of my conditions."

"Oh?" Amanda was genuinely puzzled.

"I want to raise the stakes a little."

Amanda laughed. "Rache, if you lose, the plan is that I'll kill you and eat you. I don't see how the stakes can get much higher."

"I wasn't talking about my stakes."

"Well, the quarry is allowed to fight back. I could be killed by a boojum anytime. That's nothing new."

"Another hunter could be, yes. But you? Amanda, come on! When have you ever felt yourself in any danger from the quarry? Admit that, in your case, the danger of being killed by a runner is only theoretical."

"If you say so." Amanda didn't explicitly agree.

"No," Rachel said. "I am thinking of a way of truly and realistically raising the stakes for you."

"Hmm?" Amanda sat back in her chair and regarded Rachel with curiosity.

Okay, here it comes, ready or not, Rachel told herself.

"I said all of my conditions had to do with making the hunt more real," Rachel began. "I'm sure you know more about anthropology than I do, but it's my understanding that humans aren't predators by nature: they don't have the right teeth, they can get sick if they eat uncooked meat, they don't have claws, most other animals can outrun them, and so forth. I'm sure you've heard all that."

"Yes. A very acceptable point of view if you consider being human only a matter of physiology. It completely discounts the inner motivations behind choices."

"Well, I don't believe that humans became hunters by choice, either. I think it was a decision forced on them by necessity. Maybe it was a choice in warm climates, where droughts would cause shortages of fruits and vegetables and it was simply easier to hunt. But when humans moved north, hunting in the winter became a necessity for survival. If humans couldn't find some meat to eat, they died. Hunting was a life and death matter for the hunter as well as the prey.

"Now, Amanda," Rachel continued, moving into the criticism phase of her argument, "when you fail to catch and kill somebody in a hunt, what's the penalty for you? You have to stop at the butcher shop on the way home. You also get a chance to learn from your mistakes and do better the next time. Your prey might also learn something from their mistakes, but there isn't any next time for them. Once a runner fails, it's over for her; when you fail it's just a learning experience. Add that inequality to the fact that you're a veteran of many hunts and most quarry are rank novices like I was, and it hardly seems like a sport at all."

"I told you that I prefer experienced quarry. Why, I once let two women go free in return for a promise from one of them to come back the next week when she could give me a better hunt. It's just that experienced quarry are hard to come by."

"Gee, I wonder why that is?" Rachel sneered.

"Sarcasm duly noted and logged, Rachel." If Amanda was beginning to get angry, she was covering it well. "It's true that one reason why there aren't many experienced runners is that some get killed the first time out. And, yes, I have killed some myself, maybe more than anybody else.

"But while we're doing an unreality check here, let me point one HUGE way in which the sort of hunting I do differs from real hunting: My quarry is there by choice. I can't force anybody to let me hunt them. I don't trick people into being my quarry by making rigged bar bets with them - some hunters do; I don't. I don't understate my skills - I tell my quarry that I am much better than most hunters, and when people say that I'm the best, I don't argue the point. My quarry know exactly what they are stepping into and they make a choice to take that step.

"That's a choice that doesn't exist in nature. I'm sure that if you gave the average deer or rabbit or quail a choice in the matter, the animal would have more sense than to volunteer. I'm sure that if they were capable of comprehending, game animals would laugh themselves silly at the idea that people choose to be hunted to the death.

"Why do people let themselves be hunted? Really, Rachel, it is something that I wonder about and maybe I should ask more often, but, frankly, most of the time I don't care. I'd hunt them anyway.

"Some very, very few quarry are simply suicidal. Being hunted is an alternative to what they call in America, 'suicide by cop.' They want to die, but they want someone else to do the work (and take on some of the guilt) for them. Personally, I think being hunted is preferable to 'suicide by cop,' because it isn't fair to put a police officer in the position of having no choice but to take a life and experience the guilt that entails for most people. I don't feel guilty about killing in a hunt; if I spare some law enforcement person needless emotional trauma, maybe I'm actually doing a public service. But I assure you that is NOT my motivation and I don't expect free tickets to the policeman's ball.

"Now, I don't like hunting suicidal quarry - and that's not because killing someone who is willing to die 'takes the fun out of it for me.' I don't like it because suicides make lousy quarry. There isn't any challenge. If someone came to me and said, frankly, 'I want to die; please hunt me,' I would ask her to try someone else. Of course, if I had an empty larder (which does happen), I might tell her, 'just come home with me and I'll cook you. If you're not even going to try, why bother with a sham hunt? But I'll still be happy to eat you.'

"Far more quarry offer themselves because they are danger freaks. They could go swimming in shark infested waters. They could be bungee jumpers or parachutists. They could drive race cars. They could take up bullfighting. They could even simply play Russian roulette. They would rather be hunted. They don't want to die; they want to come close. It's a game for them, and sometimes they lose. I don't mind hunting them if they are any good as quarry. But even if they aren't, I don't feel bad about killing them. If they want the thrill of being chased and I give them that and they happen to get caught, I'm entitled to collect my winnings. My quarry are guaranteed to have a thrill; I'm not guaranteed of either a challenging hunt or some good eating, though if I don't get one, I get the other.

"There are some female quarry who aren't seeking danger, but rather an erotic thrill. Most of them are content with hunts in which the reward for a successful hunter is sex. Sometimes, the erotic thrill goes through a metamorphosis and becomes danger-seeking. Those women can make very good quarry because they've usually had a lot of experience. I do make sure that a woman knows that hunting with me is different; there may be sex involved if I catch her, but if we've agreed that there will be more at stake than that, then I do collect the rest of my reward without remorse. And, curiously, those women very seldom begrudge me that reward." Amanda paused momentarily. "There are people who find that very hard to understand and accept."

It seemed to Rachel that Amanda was recalling a particular experience, but she decided not to ask any questions.

Amanda continued, "Of course, there are those quarry who run simply for money. The practice hunts pay a decent day's wages, but the hunts in which the quarry's life is on the line pay very well. A few successful runs can yield enough to pay off student loans or to start a small business. Risking one's life for money is far from anything new. Construction workers on high-rise buildings, prostitutes who aren't particular about their clientele, stunt people in movies, professional athletes - those are obvious examples. Sometimes, people like firefighters are motivated by more than money. The risk of death is very high in a hunt and it's only fair that the rewards are very high. But the bottom line is those people have put a price on their lives and found someone willing to pay it.

"The women who run in the group hunts for money - now, they certainly aren't a bunch of angels. They would be good subjects for a study in modern morality. It's almost a dead certainty that in a group hunt with, say, twelve hunters and twelve runners, one and probably two of the runners - usually women - will be killed. The women who go home from those hunts with money do so because some other woman or women got killed and the hunters decided to call it a day. I grant you the sentence 'I killed her for money' is not identical with the sentence, 'I made money because she got killed,' but I don't think I would want to build a very large moral edifice using the difference between the two as a foundation.

"Quarry in the group hunts never seem to work together. I once thought I had tumbled onto a pair of teammates, but it was just a case of a single lone defender." Amanda lingered on the memory for a moment and then chuckled. "In that same hunt, a woman got shot wearing a bright, white leotard. I've often wondered why she did that. Maybe she was suicidal. I can't help but wonder why none of her fellow runners pointed out that her outfit was a really bad idea. Maybe felt, hey, if Chloe is going to be an easy target, so much the better for me. Hell, maybe somebody even suggested it to her because it would be aerodynamic. I'm surprised they didn't get her to wear a bull's eye on her back.

"Oh, but of course, you didn't sign up for the money. My guess has always been that you signed up because you entered and lost a game of chance in which you had everything in the world to lose and nothing to gain except the death of someone who was supposedly your friend. And you wouldn't even had the pleasure of, or given your friend the honor of, eating her. Please do forgive me, Rachel, when I forget that you have the moral high ground and I'm just a psycho-bitch who enjoys eating people, particularly women she likes. How much nicer a person I would be if I could simply draw satisfaction from watching a friend get killed because she lost a bet with me!"

Rachel could have mentioned that the reasons she entered the game of dares had nothing to do with wanting to see someone else die, but she already had enough points to argue. Besides, she had come to agree with Amanda's evaluation of the game.

"Anyway," Amanda continued, "I can understand someone's desire to make a lot of money in a hurry and the practice hunts pay only a fraction of what the real hunts pay, but, honestly, the notion that somebody would risk her life trying something before at least taking one dry run to see if she was any good at it - I wouldn't want to go into business with someone with that kind of judgement."

"But you would star in a tv show with her?"

Again, both women were silent for a few moments, until Rachel said, "Sorry about the sportsmanship remark."

"Accepted. Sorry about the judgement crack."

"Accepted."

Rachel sighed and said, "Amanda, I don't doubt that everything you say is true. Nevertheless, the fact is that your life is never seriously in jeopardy in a hunt. I am not entering a contest in which only my life is at risk. You may not be exactly an invincible superwoman, but you might as well be. I couldn't become your equal in hand-to-hand combat in eight weeks, eight months, or eight years. Even if I could, I can't grow another four inches taller.

"If you can think of another way to level the playing field so that your life is in equal jeopardy to mine - maybe handicap yourself in a fair but meaningful way - I'll entertain the idea. I feel that it's unfair that my life should be at risk and yours not be." Rachel leaned forward. "Amanda, can you think of another way to really put your life in equal jeopardy to mine?"

Amanda thought for a moment. "No, I can't. I'll frankly admit that even the proverbial tying one hand behind my back would still leave you at physical disadvantage. I can't offer to hop around on one leg."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Rachel said.

"So," Amanda asked, "what am I supposed to do if I don't catch you? Go sit in a corner and starve myself to death?"

"No. If you haven't bagged me by ten o'clock the night of the hunt, you would be on your honor to report to the lodge where they would hold you until I came in. At that point, your life would be in my hands."

"Oh. Then what? You'd have somebody kill me?"

Rachel drew a sharp breath at that. "No, Amanda. I wouldn't delegate that to anyone else."

"Well, so long as we keep it in the family." Amanda hesitated and then added, "Actually, Rache, I appreciate the sentiment behind that. Really."

Rachel nodded. She was a little nervous that Amanda seemed to be giving her proposition serious consideration.

"But, tell me: what would you get out this? I mean, besides having me out of your hair? I know you wouldn't eat me. I'm not trying to be funny, but that does seem like a bit of a waste. At least, I would have plans for you: I would, um, make use of you." There was something very beguiling about the way Amanda said that.

"I don't want you out of my hair, Amanda. Quite the opposite." Rachel wanted to show that she could play the fatal seduction game too. She had rehearsed a bit.

"Oh?"

Rachel leaned back, ran her finger around the rim of the glass she had been sipping from and said, as casually as possible, "I'm sure you've heard of people who, because of principles, are vegetarians, but on the other hand, they will wear leather shoes and jackets."

"Yes," said Amanda with some disgust. "A bit hypocritical. A triumph of aesthetics over ethics. The conflict wouldn't occur if their philosophy included a sound epistemology and ontology."

"Well, I may be a bit hypocritical myself, I guess." Rachel did best to imitate a wicked smile.

Tilting her slightly, Amanda asked, "Exactly what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I think your hide would make a lovely jacket." Rachel managed a leer. "And I would feel so, so secure having you wrapped around me."

"My word, Rachel! What an interesting idea!" It seemed that Amanda actually flushed a little. She caressed herself, ran her hands over her bare arms. "I can't imagine such a jacket would be very warm, though."

"Oh, there's enough difference in our sizes that I'm sure a nice lining could be added." Keep up the leer and the wicked smile, Rachel told herself.

"Do you want me to get any tattoos?" Amanda asked jokingly.

"No, no, no. I like you just the way you are, smooth and soft and silky."

"Oh."

"I'd so enjoy running my hands over such a jacket. It would be a very unusual kind of intimacy. Feeling my own touch conveyed through you." How does it feel, Amanda? Being on the other side?

"Ahem. Yes, I can see how that would be appealing." Amanda shifted in her chair.

Oh, my god! Is she getting off on this idea? Rachel wondered.

"It occurs to me," Amanda said, as she leaned back, sank down in her chair, put her feet up on a divan, and began to run her fingers and palms over the exposed flesh of her arms and chest and neck, "that I am sufficiently larger than you to allow for more than just a jacket to be made from my hide. Perhaps a cat suit could be fashioned that would cling to your every curve. Emm. A cat suit made from a tigress."

Rachel wasn't sure what to make of this mood that had overcome Amanda.

The huntress pinched a bit of skin on her forearm and let it spring back. "I'm mot sure how much can be done to make human skin both elestic and durable. Perhaps rather than a cat suit, maybe a nice long gown that would cover you from your neck..." - here Amanda placed a finger at her collarbone and slowly traced a line down her torso - "all the way down to your toes.

"I'm sure that with a few adjustments,"- spoken as she cupped her breasts - "the garment might even look slinky and form-fitting. Our skin tones are different enough that it should make a nice contrast when you look in the mirror. Actually, I think the curing process would tend to darken the leather. I'm far from sure though. But, really, don't you think it would be preferable to be almost completely encased by my skin, as opposed to having a mere jacket?"

Rachel wasn't sure if she was expected to respond to this question. Apparently not, as Amanda continued.

"I visualize the garment as sleeveless, but you might consider either three-quarter or full-length sleeves. I'm sure that it wouldn't be practical for outdoor wear, but I can imagine you spending a quiet evening at home, the two of us in more complete contact than two living humans could ever be.

"You mentioned that you're not a jealous type. Well, neither am I," Amanda assured her dinner guest. "I certainly wouldn't mind the thought of you slipping into my skin before becoming intimate with another lover. That would an interesting sort of threesome, don't you agree? Emmm. The thought that my skin might have a sex life when the rest of me is, uh, elsewhere is a bit exciting. A rather nice fantasy could be built around it."

The look of fondness that Rachel received from Amanda was filled with warmth as well as sensuality and something else. Was it gratitude? It was as though Rachel had given Amanda something completely novel. Rachel was almost embarrassed. Had she made Amanda feel appreciated and desired as she never had been before? If that were the case, how could Rachel tell Amanda that she shouldn't take this too seriously?

Whatever mood had struck Amanda, she gradually eased herself out of it. "But what about the rest of me? Just discarded, just buried?"

Okay, add some more credibility. "Well, I am certain that, with your popularity, a charity banquet with you as the featured attraction would be a tremendous success. Of course," Rachel added, "I would want it to be a charity of which you approved."

"How considerate."

"There are other possibilities." Rachel pressed the fantasy. "I suppose I could have you stuffed and keep you around for a conversation piece. Maybe I could even sleep with you like a great big teddy bear."

Amanda looked at Rachel with amusement.

"I mean," Rachel said, "that is what they do with predators when they are brought down, isn't it? Either make coats or rugs from their hides or have them stuffed?"

"Well, yes. Or, if they're alive, they can be kept in cages." This last was said with some real distaste.

Oh, you don't like that idea, do you, Amanda? Rachel saw a chance to twist Amanda's tail a bit and to make her feel objectified just as a trapped runner might feel like nothing more than meat. "Yes, that's a possibility that hadn't occurred to me. I suppose I could give you to a petting zoo. Call you 'Mandy, the Panther Girl' and have children feed you gingerbread women."

Amanda looked sharply at Rachel and seemed to tense up. Suddenly all of the amusement and sensuality was gone. "Rachel, you wouldn't really do that to me, would you?"

Rachel wanted to make a cute quip, but she saw that this was no joking matter to Amanda. Rachel realized that an affirmative answer here would get the desired rejection of her proposal from Amanda. This was her chance to end the discussion. But she also saw that a yes answer would hurt Amanda... She didn't want to hurt her.

Well, actually, it was simpler than that. Neither woman had ever lied to the other and Rachel did not want to be the first...

"No. No, Amanda. I wouldn't do that to you," Rachel said sincerely.

Amanda seemed visibly relieved. "That's better. Taking someone's life as the understood forfeit in a contest is one thing. Putting her in a cage, no. That's punishment."

"Don't worry, Amanda. I was just kidding about that."

"Well, you forget about this Mandy the Panther Girl thing, and I'll give this challenge some thought." Amanda got up to refresh her drink. "Can I get you something?"

"No, I'm fine."

When she returned to her chair, Amanda seemed to go into deep concentration.

"You don't have to give me your answer right now," Rachel said.

Amanda waved her hand. "No, there's no need to leave this hanging. A couple of understandings, though."

"What would those be?" Rachel asked.

"You know that you won't be able to build some little fortress or something while you're doing your practice hunts. The lodge wouldn't tolerate that."

"Of course not."

"And you won't go around setting little traps all over the grounds."

"No. I wouldn't want anybody innocent to get hurt."

"Just me." Amanda smiled.

"If I make or build anything, it will be on the day of the hunt. And I will only have my knife to use as a tool."

"And you do realize that you would be giving up what is considered 'the quarry's advantage' by having my life be as much at risk as yours? Usually a hunter can afford to be somewhat casual whereas the quarry cannot."

Rachel laughed. "That might be true with any other hunter. I don't think you ever take a hunt casually. The 'advantage' didn't do me a whole lot of good before. Having one's life endangered can make one more careful, but it can also lead to panic. I don't think you are likely to panic, but you might make an error of judgement under stress. I think it will more than balance out."

"Perhaps," Amanda agreed. "Well, let me give this some thought." With that, Amanda lapsed to silence, her eyes gazing at Rachel or the area around her. It was hard to tell.

Rachel was not about to indulge in anything as simian as a staring contest, and so she shifted her attention to her glass of wine. She did not, however, strain to avoid eye-contact with Amanda, and every time she looked up she saw that Amanda was still looking in her direction.

Rachel had expected one of two reactions from Amanda, and this thoughtfulness wasn't either one of them.

The mostly likely and most hoped-for reaction was that Amanda would dismiss the challenge out of hand as being ridiculous and/or insulting because of the implied unfairness in a usual hunt. Afterwards, though, maybe Amanda would reflect on what Rachel had said and see some value in it. In the meantime, Rachel would have been able to say, well, I tried.

The other expected reaction was that Amanda would jump at the chance for another hunt, fully confident that the conditions wouldn't matter.

Rachel had not, however, expected Amanda to engage in some kind of internal debate.

A minute passed. Then three minutes. Then five.

Amanda's gaze was beginning to make Rachel feel uncomfortable.

Was Amanda trying to decide how serious she was about her proposal?

Was Amanda wondering about her motives?

Was Amanda evaluating her as an opponent, weighing her own chances of success?

Or was Amanda trying to determine if Rachel was worth the risk?

Well, if that was the subject of Amanda's debate, Rachel thought, what a kick in the crotch!

Maybe she doesn't fancy me as much as I imagined she did.

I guess I'm a little disappointed, Rachel admitted to herself.

And as soon as that thought crossed her mind...

"You're on!" Amanda declared. "I accept your two conditions if you accept two of mine."

Oh shit! thought Rachel. Okay, fair enough; she's putting me in the hot seat. Aloud she asked, "And what would those conditions be?"

"First, either of us may back out of the hunt right up to the morning it's scheduled. No explanations required and no hard feelings to follow."

Oh, like I am going to turn that down! Well, she's giving me a way out. Rather nice of her, actually. I'm sure she's stipulating that much more for my benefit than hers. "Fair enough. The other condition?"

"Since we are trying to make the hunt more real," Amanda said, with something of a smirk, "let's put some reality on my side. No hunter is going starve to death because of one day's failed hunt and a hunter can always decide to hunt an easier quarry if her first choice proves too elusive. Now, we can't do much about the second condition. I can hardly expect to be able to walk into the lodge holding a rabbit by the hind legs and say, 'I missed Rachel, but I got this instead.'

"It's also true that we can't stretch the hunt out to last until I drop from lack of food; the lodge is too busy for that. However, we can do something to compensate. If we can't stretch my time, we can cut down on your range. The hunting grounds isn't an American national park, but it is a pretty large area for one person to hide from another in."

"You didn't have any trouble finding me before." Rachel wasn't liking the sound of this.

"Rache, for the last time, quit selling yourself short. You gave me a darn good run last time out. Now, I won't be falsely modest about my abilities in physical combat. I concede that I have a tremendous advantage over you. Can't you concede that there are a lot acres in the hunting grounds?"

"Well, just what did you have in mind?" Rachel asked.

"As you recall there is a stream that runs north to south the entire length of the grounds. I suggest that we ask the grounds keeper to mark a chalk line parallel to and west of the stream at a distance of a half mile. That will cut your range approximately in half while leaving you access to the stream." Amanda tilted her head. "I appreciate the fact that you realize that I can be trusted to go peacefully to lodge if I don't catch you by ten o'clock. I believe in your honor as much as you believe in mine. If you promise not to cross the chalk line, I know you won't. Will you promise that, Rachel?"

Rachel realized that Amanda was acknowledging her as an equal with respect to honor.

Rachel also realized that Amanda was not being unreasonable. Hunters didn't starve in one day. The hunting grounds were large.

This was a chance to back out. Rachel could reject to the condition and that would be the end of it.

No, it wouldn't be the end of anything. Not really.

She would have backed down. She would have done nothing for Amanda and nothing for herself.

"I promise," Rachel said. "I guess that means we're on."

"Yes, I believe it does. Now, we already know where this will take place. All we have to do is figure out when. Let me go fetch a calendar." There was a definite spring in her step as Amanda left the room.

Well, okay, Rachel told herself. I knew this was a possibility. I knew I would have to be prepared to go through with this. Me and my big ideas!

Amanda grabbed the wine bottle from which she had poured their after dinner drinks and knelt down beside Rachel, placing the calendar on Rachel's lap. "Here, give me your glass. You do look thirsty." Having poured a generous serving, Amanda began studying the calendar.

It struck Rachel that from Amanda's mood, one would think they were college roommates planning a holiday together. Only one of us will be coming back, so let's pool our resources and buy one round-trip ticket and one one-way ticket - save a little money that way.

"Now, you want to do eight practice hunts. Emm, it might take a while to make that many bookings at the lodge unless you could do some of them on weekdays as well as weekends," Amanda suggested.

"Well, I do have some vacation days coming at work," Rachel offered.

"Oh, good! Yes, you might as well use up as many of those as you can." Amanda said matter-of-factly. "Now, my advice is that you don't do more than one hunt a week."

"Yes," Rachel agreed. "That will give me time to evaluate my experience between one hunt and the next."

"Exactly. Now, I would allow an extra two weeks of flexibility. So, ten weeks from now would take us up to..." Amanda counted and flipped two pages of the calendar, "Oh, June nineteenth is a Saturday. Excellent! Nearly the longest day of the year and - look, there will be an almost full waxing moon then. That means that, if we have clear weather, we'll have plenty of light right up until ten o'clock when the hunt ends, not that it should take that long. Does that sound all right to you? You don't have any important events in late June that you don't want to miss, do you? You don't have a friend who plans to be a last-minute June bride and wants you at her wedding, do you?"

"No, June nineteenth sounds fine," Rachel heard herself saying. Something about this seemed so surreal. In effect, they were agreeing, if all went as planned, that one of them would not see the morning of June twentieth.

"Good. That's settled. I'm sure I can get the lodge booked this far in advance. We should have it all to ourselves. Now, if you like, we could go there tomorrow together and you could take the first steps toward arranging the practice hunts."

Go there together tomorrow? That almost sounded like an invitation to spend the night.

"Yes, I would like that," said Rachel.

Amanda stood up, stretched, and returned to her chair opposite Rachel. "Now, would you like for me to pick you up tomorrow or shall we just plan to meet there?"

Well, Rachel thought, it seems that Amanda likes all of my suggestions tonight, so...

"Um, Amanda?"

"Yes?"

"There is a possibility that this hunt could end differently from the last one. It might end rather suddenly, not allowing us time to, uh, say 'good-bye' to each other."

"Yes, I know. I really don't like it when it goes that way. I do like for there to be a little, um, togetherness time between the end of the hunt and, well, dinner time. It would be a pity if the only way to take you would be to shoot you from a distance." Amanda wasn't smiling when she said that.

"Well, inasmuch as that is a, uh, likely eventuality," Rachel stammered out, "perhaps we should, um, take measures to prevent us from, uh, being deprived of, well, certain things. That is to say, we could sort of take a leisurely farewell of each other in advance, as it were."

"Rachel," Amanda asked gently, "are you saying that you would like to spend the night with me?"

"Yes." Quietly, timidly.

"Rache, I never thought you would ask." Amanda smiled warmly, rose, and extended her hand toward Rachel. "Really, I never thought you would."