Prologue

She slept so prettily, so sweetly, eyes, once full of blue-bonnet laughter, now shut for all of eternity. A rosebud mouth curved slightly in a self-satisfied smile, like that of a woman's after an intense night with her lover.
Carefully now, he applied the make-up to her face, her beautiful, perfect face, marveling at its idyllic visage. With steady hands, he applied blusher, with artist's fingers, he smudged the cosmetic over her ice-cold cheek, shivering at the soft feel of perfumed skin beneath his fingers.
Perfect. She was perfectionism in human form.
But, of course, she wasn't a human anymore now. She was an angel, flitting above in the Heavens, and blessing him for the favor he had done. Thanking him for making her look so pretty whilst she slept.
Now, he rocked back, studying his handiwork, mouth pursing in criticism.
In life, she had been dirty, evil, abhorrent to the ways of the Lord.
And now, she was clean and cool, ready for a fresh start in the world of Heaven.
Inky lashes fanned across the porcelain cheeks, the smile on her face indicating bliss. Her hair, a miracle of sun-hued silk, was neatly tied out of the way with a pink, satin ribbon.
In fact, she was the first that was so perfect.
The Other had not been present tonight.
For the first time since he had slipped out that night, a shiver raked his body.
The Other scared him.
Where he lived for perfect, the Other thrived on violence.
On anger, on despair and self-pity.
He hurt him.
The Other was a Beast.
But he dared not call him such to his face.
The consequences would be dire; and there were more Angels to Bless before his time came.
Calmly, he rose, depositing the bottle of perfume, now half-empty, back into the woman's bag he carried with him, meticulously closing the case of cosmetics before slipping into the shadows of the alleyway, becoming a creature of the night.
A vampire, a werewolf after a blood-feast, quenched to bursting with the thrill of its success.
Powerful. Unstoppable. Omnipotent.
Perfect.
Like his Angels.