Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective creators. Not me.

Prelude
By Amos Whirly

No matter how many times I do this, I don't think I can ever get used to it. To think—I used to be a doctor. My sole purpose was saving lives. I guess that hasn't changed. I just save lives in a different way now. I save lives by taking others—as if their lives can be called a life. Maybe a half life. A cursed life. But—it's still a life.

Selene is racing ahead of me, and her black trench coat is shining in the moonlight.

She was always fast. Always agile. But ever since she took my ancient ancestor's blood, she's been faster, stronger, better than ever. Unafraid of the sun. Or garlic or any of the other things her kind had feared before.

A truly invincible vampire. One of a kind.

That's what we thought.

Selene darts to the east rapidly, and I veer after her, seizing a tree trunk to help me maneuver the still-strange bulk of my heavier transformed body. My black claws splinter the tree bark.

We're on the trail of a Lycan, one that we've been tracking for months. He started in Central Park, preying on the homeless. The ones he chose to leave alive turned quickly and started wreaking their own havoc. He's not too far ahead of us now. We spooked him; he's running for his life because he knows we're going to kill him.

It's what we do.

Some number of months ago we encountered a strange group of vampire hunters who were currently hunting Lycans. They didn't think much of Selene (except for one of the men—named King—who thought she was spectacular), even though their own star hunter was a vampire. But not just any vampire. A hybrid. A day-walker, they called him. A vampire like Selene with no weaknesses to garlic, daylight, or anything else that threatened their species. And he hadn't even needed the blood of an immortal to get that way.

His name was Blade; his friends called themselves the Nightstalkers.

After a few tense weeks of learning to trust each other, we decided to team up. Working with them has been beneficial. It's taken much of the stress off Selene and I, and I'd like to think that we've helped them too. But I doubt that Blade would admit that he ever needed help. He just strikes me as that kind of person.

Selene changes direction again. She's gotten so much faster—I'm struggling to keep up with her.

I can smell the Lycan ahead of us. I can smell his fear. Being part-Lycan, I can often sense the emotions of my furrier kinsmen. He's terrified. And with good reason. As far as we have been able to tell, Selene and I are both invincible. But even that might not be enough to see us through the coming conflict.

I'm ready to kill the Lycan. Selene, I know, has some questions for him. Short months after we teamed up with the Nightstalkers, we encountered the strangest thing any of us had ever seen—Selene and Blade included. A vampire that was utterly invincible. More invincible than Selene, than me. We couldn't even cut his skin. I couldn't touch him; neither could Selene. He was too fast for either of us. Blade's sword did nothing. The only way we could deal with him was to tear him apart, take off his head, and set him on fire—any other way and his body regenerated, pulled itself back together again.

It defied explanation.

Selene believes it's another coven. A coven not descended from the line of Corvinus. A different coven, stronger than any other that has managed to maintain its silence and secrecy.

The Lycan breaks out of the woods and crashes toward the Cliffside. I think we're in New Jersey now. The Lycan ahead of us is massive, and his coloring reminds me of Lucian. Lucian—the Lycan who turned me.

In a burst of speed and strength, I lunge past Selene and tackle the Lycan. We both crash into the dirt, uprooting trees and tearing up the grass. We snap at each other for a moment, but I'm stronger than he is. I've got all the strength of a Lycan and all the strength of a vampire combined.

Selene lands nearby, her pale skin beautiful in the silver light of the moon. She's approaching.

The Lycan roars in terror—sheer terror—and bolts before I can grab hold of him. He flings himself off the cliff.

Neither of us can stop him in time and he vanishes into the crashing waves below. The faint scent of his blood on the wind is enough to tell me that he is dead.

Dead.

A Lycan jumped off a cliff because he was scared of Selene? That didn't sound right. That didn't sound right at all. Maybe he didn't know who we were.

I look up at Selene, whose face is impassive. Her eyes are ice blue, adrenaline still pulsing through her body. As she calms down, though, those eyes revert to fathomless black. She casts a single look my way, and I stand, willing my body to transform back to its human state.

"Why did he do that?" she asks me.

"He was scared," I say. "He was terrified of you."

"Of me?" She gazes down at the shallow waves crashing on the sharp rocks below us. "Michael, do you think it's possible he thought I was one of the other coven?"

"Possible," I say. "It's very possible. I've never felt that kind of fear from a Lycan before."

"So the Lycans fear them too."

"But aren't they working together?"

"Maybe it's less of an alliance and more like enslavement." Selene moves away from the cliff. "It seems vampires are talented at bending Lycans to their will."

She has stopped and is looking back toward New York City, where its artificial lights have brightened the dark sky.

"What are they doing, Michael?" she whispers.

I wrap my bare arms around her and hold her tight against my chest. There is no answer I can offer her. Only reassurance that I will be by her side no matter what storm comes.


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!