Prologue
Somewhere in Central Mexico:
She smiled as she read the reports. 'How typical.' she mused. One little city gets overrun and they all go berserk.
Those soft-hearted Northerners were barely above their prey.
Always so much fussier about their precious peace. As if risks were not the catalyst for progress.
Always so self-conscious of the Volturi, like children waiting for the boogie-man the second the wrong light went out. As if the Volturi did not have their weaknesses, their need for contacts, for allies…
Well, she would certainly show them a monster from the depths of darkness, and not one coven among them would know it until they stared it in the eyes and knew the bitter terror of defeat.
Broad-minded, ambitious and practical, Maria had no stock in luck or coincidence, only in fate and odds, particularly those in her own favor. And fate had indeed arranged quite an auspicious turn in that direction.
She had finally found him…