Prolouge

I sat up, gasping, shaking. Vague snatches of the dream flickered through my mind, falling before I could see them into an oblivion I didn't care to explore. By the time my eyes focused, I could remember only the dark fear that still roiled within me. A cold knowledge of something horribly wrong blanketed my mind with shadow. I turned to the window, to seek peace in soft moonlight, but no peace was to be found in the sight that met my eyes.

Paler than ivory, the full moon hung in a sky dark beyond the normal black of night, a sky void of stars. The light it cast was sickly, painful, dead. Blood ran over its scarred and ravaged surface.

Something moved behind me. I didn't hear the sound of it, softer than the whisper of wind over stone. But I felt its presence. Moving faster than my thoughts, I whirled on instinct, searching.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck.

My heart pounded painfully in my chest. Deep within the shadows, something growled and I forced back the scream that fought to escape.

My hands shook. The growl came again, low and hungry. Yellow eyes kindled in the dark. I screamed.

But it was not my voice that ripped at my throat. The pain was excruciating. But it was not mine.

A dark blur launched itself from the shadows. Ivory fangs glinted in the twisted moonlight. I jerked back as steel-trap jaws snapped shut so close that teeth grazed the skin of my throat. Something snarled behind me. I threw myself sideways. My attackers collided. But instead of turning on me they tore at each other, snarling.

The fight was over almost before it had begun. A quick upward slash, and a blade flashing silver-white, glimmering with cold fire; blood soaked into my thick, dark carpet. Something screamed, thrashed, died.

I collapsed against the wall, slid down to rest on the floor, too shaken to do anything in the way of defending myself. The one still standing glided towards me. Too frightened and emotional to use my power, I tried to melt into the wall by sheer force of will. It did me no good.

Without speaking, the victor knelt before me and offered his hand. I looked up, trying to discern his purpose, but his eyes were hidden by the shadow of his deep hood. Slowly, I reached out to accept the offered help. Our fingers touched.

Lightning flashes of memories I knew were not mine left after-images of horror behind my eyes. I snatched my hand back. Again, an unwanted cry forced itself past my lips.

sat up, gasping, shaking. Vauge snatches of the dream flickered through my mind, falling before I could see them into an abyss I had no desire to explore.