Chapter One

1 // Sanny

I ran through the dark street, the wet pavement slick beneath my worn boots.

Wait, Dad! I wanted to shout, but my throat was too raw from all the screaming I'd already done. Don't leave.

Light from scattered street lamps pooled along the empty sidewalk. The silence of the city street in the hours before dawn unnerved me. I threw myself into a harder run, frantically searching for my father.

There"a broad-shouldered figure headed for the subway entrance on the street corner, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. I begged my legs for more as I ran after him. The figure disappeared down the steps. As I reached the entrance, I stumbled to a halt. It was pitch-black down those stairs, and silent as death. Where was the screech of the train? Where was the glow of the tunnel lights below?

A sound rose out of the swell of darkness, the keen of some inhuman thing. My skin prickled.

"Dad?" I whispered.

The keening stopped. Two pinpricks of red stared up at me. I took a step back. Then the thing made another sound, one that reverberated through the tunnel and straight into my bones, the sound of a thousand voices whispering and cackling and groaning as they reached out to consume me.

I ran. It called to me, the monster in the darkness, its laughter close on my heels. A gust of wind roared hard against my back, throwing me off my feet. I tumbled onto the pavement, scraping my hands as I protected my face from the fall. I felt dizzy, but instinct was screaming at me to get up and run. I struggled to my knees.

A figure stood in my way, taller than any man I'd ever seen. Its shape was obscured by a voluminous cloak and its face by the darkness, but long, fine hair shone against its shoulder like tendrils of moonlight.

I knew my own neighborhood. If I screamed, no one would come. They would lock their doors and cover their ears and pray it wasn't their own daughter screaming. I wasn't even sure my father would come, not after what he'd done. I had only myself to depend on.

So I rose to my feet, balling my scraped, bleeding hands into fists to keep them from shaking, and stared defiantly at the stranger. "What the hell do you want?"

He chuckled, deep and low, like he was impressed.

So it was a man. That made my odds worse. But, hey, last week I'd kicked the asses of two tenth grade bullies who mistakenly thought a seventh grader would be an easy target, so no way I was giving up yet.

He moved sleek as a cobra toward me, his white hair fanning across his shoulders like a viperous hood. I jerked back"and slammed into a brick wall.

"What do I want?" His heavy voice rolled over me like smoke. It made me drowsy. It made me weak. "You are what I want."

It was a struggle to speak; my brain felt like it was lost in a fog. "Don't touch me."

He pressed his body up against mine, leaning so close I could feel his breath against my ear. "Stop me, Sandra."

He knew my name. I didn't recognize his voice. This man was a stranger. How could he know my name?

Long fingers wrapped around my neck, as rough as leather against my skin. His thumb pressed into the underside of my jaw; the nail cut into my skin, sharp as the tip of a knife. The world around me went dark, and then I saw, like in a vision, my own corpse laying on the sidewalk. My throat was sliced open from ear to ear. My little brother stood on the stoop of our tenement, watching the blood slide down my dead skin.

"Or are you too fragile," the stranger's voice taunted, "to save yourself from damnation?"

Defiance rushed through me. I shoved the stranger as hard as I could, my hands pressing against unyielding muscle. His body didn't give way an inch, but I refused to let that stop me. I wasn't going to die here, just some helpless girl murdered by a back alley thug! Anger gave me strength: the muscles in my arms tightened. My hands began to tingle. There was a crackle, and then an explosion of heat ripped through my fingers.

The stranger leaped back as if I'd stabbed him, screaming with the ferocity of a wild animal. I gasped as I stared up at him. He was floating several feet above the ground, clutching at his shoulder where my right palm had pressed against him.

It terrified me, the impossible sight of a man levitating above me, his eyes glowing red, his lips uttering noises more beast than human, it made me pray that I was dreaming, though the throbbing pain in my hands told me otherwise. It made me want scream at him to go away, to run as fast as I could back to my mother's warm, safe arms.

It made me wonder, seeing the proof of impossible things hovering in the air before me, what else I didn't know about the universe.

His hand drew away to reveal a strange symbol bright and red against his shoulder, right where I had touched him: a grinning skull with a jagged line of a flames ringing its head.

I glanced at my hands. On my right palm, the same symbol burned as if it had been branded into my skin with a hot iron. I shivered.

"Sandra," the stranger said, relishing my name. "Will you conquer me?"

A fierce gust of wind slammed me against the wall, knocking my head so hard against the brick surface that I passed out.

***

Author's Note

If you can't wait until next Saturday, you can also read the story / hang out on goldenvampires.ning.com!

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good opening chapter. I like the storyline and the characters. I like the conversation and the interesting situation create in the chapter. I like the ending to the excellent opening chapter.
Coyote