Prologue
September 29th
"Cold night tonight," commented the woman in the driver's seat. "Should preserve the body, at least."
The man beside her nodded, leaned back in the passenger seat, flicked a lock of hair out of his eyes . "Not that we aren't used to the smell."
The woman laughed. She stole a glance out the window, having deemed it safe to do so on this long, straight stretch of empty road, and watched the full moon. As always, she lost her breath a moment. So pure, so white. Though she shifted at the sight a bit tonight. Tonight she saw instead a great, glistening white eye, watching her deeds and condemning her.
She was brought back to reality by a gentle brush of skin against her hair. He ran his fingers down the length of the dark silk. She smiled and leaned into his touch. He had no way of knowing she was a murderer. Or at least, that she had killed this particular one.
No way of knowing the betrayal that lay in wait.
No way of foreseeing his own death.
No way.