Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective creators. Not me.
Prelude
By Amos Whirly
I am a creature of the night.
I work alone.
So I keep asking myself why the hell I'm still hanging around with these amateurs.
Nightstalkers. Kids. They treat it like it's some kind of game. And it's not a game.
Amateurs. With their slick gadgets and their MP3 players.
This is not a game.
So why the hell am I still here?
I don't care what happens to them. Not even Whistler's daughter. She chose this life. If it kills her, that's her own fault.
King? I hate King.
The girl, though. Zoe. She's a hard one. Always thought girls weren't supposed to be hard. Always thought little kids weren't supposed to know death. Well, her mother brought her in on this war and then got herself killed. So if the girl is hard and cold it's her mother's fault.
Somehow the little brat can make me smile. And I don't smile. But somehow she gets under my skin and finds just the right spot deep inside, and before I know what I'm doing, I'm smiling. It's only happened a few times (usually only when King is getting his ass handed to him). But I can't go around smiling all the time. People will think I've gone soft.
And I haven't.
This isn't a game, damn it. This is a war.
And the longer it goes on, the more I think there's someone out there that doesn't want the rest of us to have any peace.
Daystar (the miracle virus Zoe's mom died for) didn't work. Didn't kill me, which was fine. But it only wiped out one level of vampires. Turns out there's more out there that we didn't know about to begin with. High covens. Not even Whistler knew about them.
So now we're working alongside some vamp and her hybrid boyfriend. Selene and Michael. Selene is a couple hundred years old and very talented at hunting Lycans—talented for a vampire, that is. Michael's still new, but he's better than King.
What's the world coming to? That's all I've got to ask. I've worked with vampires before. A long time ago. Didn't like it at all. But there isn't much choice now. None of us have seen an enemy like this before.
Vampires. But not. They drink blood. They hunt humans. But they've got no weaknesses. They're invincible. Other than chopping them up and setting them on fire, you can't kill them. Their bodies just keep pulling back together.
I work alone. I always have. Whistler didn't like it. Neither does his daughter. I didn't care then, and I sure as hell don't care now. But these new vampires— They're enough to make me wonder how this is all going to turn out. Facing the original vampire was one thing. We were on the same level (I was better, though). But he was a day-walker. All of their strengths; none of their weaknesses. These new suck-heads are different, stronger, even than Drake was. Skin like stone—it doesn't cut, slice, or break. (Well, it will; just not easy.) It isn't natural. Not that vamps are natural. But it isn't even natural for vampires.
I don't doubt that we'll win. I won't go down; victory is that simple. But I wonder about these kids—these amateurs. They're not ready.
Word has it that these new vampires have hooked up with a Lycan named Sirius. Don't know what they want, but Lycans have been crawling all over New York in the past few months. More than any of us have ever seen.
The war I've been fighting all my life isn't over. It's just changed shapes. And it's coming to an end. This is their last chance, their last stand. And there's no miracle virus to kill them all off. We're going to have to do it the old fashioned way. My way. Alone.
Just the way I like it.
Author's Note: This is a prequel to a story I'm currently working on. Blood Trust. If you want to know what happens next, read please!
