Chapter One:
WHOEVER first said that monsters (I'm talking about vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and the like) don't exist had obviously never been There. That's what their world is called-There. All monsters, the bad ones, live in There. The good ones, like protector ghosts, light witches, daywalking vampires, and fairies, they live in our world, protecting humans from finding out about There. Any human that stumbled into There was doomed to die, killed by monsters.
Before I go any farther, let me say that I'm using the wrong word for them. The bad monsters, they're known as Immortals. The good ones were not called that, they were called Protectors, as they could die. Immortals stole the life force from their victims, which added years to their lives. Should they stop stealing the life force, they would live the remainder of life they had, then die when it was gone.
Ghosts and dark witches from There had the ability to lure humans to the borders, where other Immortals killed them for their life force. Humans that had lost their family to the Immortals never knew what happened to them.
Except me.
And this is my story.
I will never forget the day my father came home, when I was only six years old, and spoke four simple words to me that altered my life forever.
"Annie, your mother's dead." His voice had been hollow and dead and still is today.
It was my mother, Claire, who had first called me Annie. My real name was Annabelle, and ever since the day she died, I never let anyone call me by anything but my real name. It hurt me too much.
That was ten years ago. I'm sixteen now, and every time I look in a mirror I hurt, a tight ache in my chest. I'm the spitting image of my mother, the only difference my eyes, which are an unusual silvery-grey. My hair is a dark brown, a few shades darker than milk chocolate. My skin is light olive tones, with a sprinkle of freckles across my cheekbones and nose. I had moderately thick lips that were a dark pink color. In all, I was at least as beautiful as my mother had been. Our similarities was one of the only things I had left of her.
The only other thing she had left me was a string of white pearls. I wore them everywhere, and held them while I slept, bound around my hand.
I, like most, hadn't at the beginning known what had happened to my mother. I had never accepted the fact of not knowing what had happened; I was always fishing for new information about the murder. Sometimes I thought I heard her voice, saying nothing but "Annie" over and over again.
One morning, before school, as I shut the medicine cabinet, I noticed my eyes had changed color. Instead of silver, they were a dark brown. And then the lips moved on their own and spoke in a sweeter voice, yet it filled me with pure terror. "Annie you're in danger. Be careful." My eyes changed back to normal as I gasped.
"Mom?" I whispered, touching the mirror. I felt only cold, hard glass. I splashed cold water on my face, squeezing my eyes shut. "Annabelle, you're losing it," I said to myself. I sighed and walked out of the bathroom.
"Annabelle! Time for school! Get down here now!" My dad called from downstairs. I grabbed my backpack and jumped down the stairs two at a time. I kissed his cheek and grabbed a bottle of orange juice.
"Morning, Dad," I said, taking a drink of juice.
"Morning sweetie," he mumbled in response, turning the page in his newspaper. "Another murder."
I looked at him. "Who was killed this time?"
"Thalia Lucas, age twenty-two," he murmured. "'Mother of one, death by strangulation, no fingerprints or evidence found.'"
"Just like mom," I whispered, setting down the juice and grabbing my car keys before walking out of the house. I sat in my car for a few seconds before starting it and heading for school.
In my rear view mirror, I could have sworn I saw someone walking after my car.
"Annabelle!" my best friend, Carrie, cried, hugging me. "Annabelle there's this hot new kid and guess what? He's looking for you!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I don't know! Just find him and, God, Annabelle, talk to him!"
I laughed, and the bell rang. "I'll see you at lunch, Carrie." I walked over to my locker, but before I could open it, someone put their hand on it, holding it shut.
I whirled around to face whoever it was, frowning. It was a boy, maybe my age, with midnight black hair that fell in his coal black eyes. He was stunningly beautiful, yet I felt something dangerous about him.
"Hello, Annie," he said in a velvety soft voice. My eyes automatically narrowed at the sound of my nickname.
"Who are you?" I asked bitterly. He laughed, throwing his head back.
"That isn't important, Annie. What is important is telling me how much you know about There."
I looked at him, confused. "Where?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"There. That's what it's called. And now, you will answer my question."
I rolled my eyes. "Look I've got no idea what you're talking about."
"Your mother was Claire, wasn't she? And those are her pearls you're wearing? You look just like her." His voice held amusement.
I paled. "H-h-how did you know my mom?" I shook my head. "Never mind. Just go away."
He shook his head. "No, Annie, you see, I came here for you, and I'm not leaving without you."
My hands started shaking. "I'm not going with you, whoever you are."
"You don't have a choice. Annabelle." He grabbed my arm, and a black fog began to seep out of his skin and towards my arm. I struggled, trying to pull my arm out of his grasp, but he was too strong.
The moment the black fog touched my skin, a silver light exploded out of my hand and the guy flew back, hitting a row of lockers.
Not fully processing what I had just done, I turned around and ran down the hall, dropping my bag on the ground. He students and teachers ignored me, looking empty as they walked by.
I glanced back and didn't see him, running behind a vending machine, panting hard. I put my hands on my knees, squeezing my eyes shut.
Suddenly I felt someone press a cloth to my mouth hard, and I fought to free myself, but I couldn't. Within seconds I was unconscious.