Okay. Second choice for beginning chapter. Which grabs you more? This one or the former post?

circa 1932 – Pacific Northwest. Seldom had Fiana been recognized for what she was so quickly. Typically when she met mortals, their reaction was awe tinged with a disquieting unease that they could not explain and generally suppressed. They only realized the full delicious horror if and when she chose to reveal her true self. Then it was generally too late for them to do anything besides involuntarily (and futilely) reaching up to protect their necks.
These people were different. Even though they were dressed in the worn work clothes of europeans, they were obviously still spiritually connected to their native culture and the powers of this land where their ancestors had dwelt for centuries. There was definitely one with power here, maybe even the power which had drawn her. Arrayed across the forest path in hostility, they prevented her advance. This was their place. They knew what she was and wanted her gone, destroyed even. Many had spears, wooden shafts to pierce her heart. The one with power raised an object of wood, feathers, and bone, a powerful fetish, but not the object she sought. He shook it while shouting unknown words of power. Fiana felt its repellant violence, like a tangible force driving her back. She knew she could overcome it eventually, but there were all those others leaping forward with their spears. She couldn’t face both threats simultaneously. With a twist of her wrist, her wand slipped into her hand from the sheath strapped to her forearm. She quickly parried to deflect the force of the shaman’s first spell. Then, for the first time in centuries, she fled from the wrath of mortals. It wasn’t a flight of panic, merely a strategic withdrawal at full speed. She easily out-distanced her pursuers, due not only to her superior physical abilities, but also her night vision which showed her every detail of the forest on this nearly moonless night. But those following were not as slow as she hoped. Unlike the european mobs of centuries-passed, they failed to stumble into obstacles or blunder into the underbrush. Nor did they carry torches to destroy their own limited night vision. They came on relentlessly, if with greater caution, obviously traveling a very familiar path. Even so, she was far ahead of them when she reached the river and James, who waited loyally at their small boat. He was surprised to see her coming at a run.
“What…” he began as she leapt aboard.
“Cast off, you fool!” she cried.
He bent to unloosen the anchor rope, but before he could begin, she snapped it with a word and a gesture.
“See to the sail,” she ordered and began to raise a wind, He did as she commanded. They were making good progress downstream by the time her pursuers burst from the woods. They halted to watch her retreat. She briefly considered a rude gesture in their general direction but didn’t consider it worth the effort.
The shaman seemed to have ideas of his own. He began a sort of ponderous stomping dance while shaking his power bundle and giving voice to a deep, throaty chant.
She increased her wind to speed them away, but stopped when she found it increasing beyond her summoning. That two-bit shaman was feeding her own spell! Damn that meddler. This would soon become a grandfather storm, and they were at the mouth of the seas as well as near dawn. Swept out beyond the shore before they could make landfall, they would have to ride it out nearly comatose while huddled in the tiny darkened cabin.
Her kind of magic did not travel well over water in the best conditions. Storm tossed in a tiny boat was misery. Queasy and confused, the two vampires simply did their best to endure the long day as the wild storm drove them North and the angry waves tossed them about. Even through the dense cloud cover and plywood shelter, they could feel the baleful sun sapping their strength. They continued to endure. Several times James was compelled to vomit up a bloody mess into a bucket, which only made their confinement worse.
“If you don’t stop fouling up our cabin, I’ll throw you overboard myself!” she said, smoothing her hair back and fighting the urge to heave herself, but Fiana managed to maintain her dignity for the most part. After hours of misery, the sun finally began to sink. Fiana, still far from well, felt some small strength return to her. She began working on the storm, calming it in small ways until the rains stopped and the winds relaxed to a strong breeze. She stumbled onto the deck and looked around.
James remained below, tied around a knot of misery. She began to recover her own equilibrium. She looked out over the nauseating waves and saw something. They were not completely lost! A small island was visible only a mile or two away, not impossible to reach, even in her weakened state, but she would have to concentrate solely on getting to that island. They were probably in the vicinity of Puget Sound. Some time ashore to regain her strength and maybe someone to drink, and she would be well enough to get them back to the mainland.
Looking to the sail, she could see that it was a lost cause. But no matter, the boat seemed to be heading straight for the island anyway. Very curious. She felt with her other senses, weak as they were. Yes. There was something there drawing them forward. Some new power.
My, but this is a surprising part of the world, she thought.
Magic was everywhere.
Weary as she was, she let it go sitting down to rest and await events. It would be best to have a few surprises ready for whatever had a grip on their boat.