Unique First fit her name like a glove, or at least this was how her mother always put it. Unique came first and was one of a kind. There was no one else like her-and this was a damn good thing, to quote her father, Dr. Ulysses First, who had never understood what genetic malignancy blighted his only child.

Unique was a petite eighteen-year-old with long, shimmering hair that was as black as ebony, and her skin was translucent like milk glass, her lips full and pink. She believed that her pale blue eyes could mesmerize whoever looked into them and that by casting as little as a glance at someone she could bend that person's mind to fit her Purpose. Unique could haunt someone for weeks, building up unbearable anticipation until the final act, which was a necessary and frenzied release, usually followed by a blackout.

"Hey, wake up, my car's broke down." She knocked on the window of the Peterbilt eighteen-wheeler that was parked all by itself at the Farmers' Market on the fringes of downtown Richmond. "I'm wondering if you got a phone?"

It was 4:00 A.M., pitch dark, and the parking lot was poorly lit. Although Moses Custer knew very well that it wasn't safe to be out here alone at this hour, he had ignored his usual good judgment after fighting with his wife and storming off in his truck, where he intended to spend the night, alone and missing in action, out by the vegetable stands. That would sure show her, he always thought when their marital routine turned ugly. He opened the door of his cab as the knocking on the glass continued.

"Lordy, what's a sweet little thing like you doing out here at this hour?" Moses asked, confused and drunk, as he stared at the creamy, delicate face smiling at him like an angel.

"You're about to have a unique experience." Unique said the same thing she always did right before she moved in for her Purpose.