Dark of midnight

Fantasy/romance

Dark of midnight

Amazon.com by September of 2012

Chapter 1

The gathering

Basilisk’s scintillate red eyes never blinked as it watched her from the shadows.  The lovely queen of Karay looked out the window at her ruined kingdom. 

Her flaxen hair swept back in a fishtail braid that draped over the shoulder of her heavy black cloak.  A slight breeze played with the wisps of hair that framed her heart-shaped face. 

Basilisk’s cat-like pupils dilated from amidst blood red orbs as it studied her.  It couldn’t see the color of her eyes from that distance, but remembered their soft amber glow from another life, a life that was long since gone.  Normal eyes would not have been able to see her as well as Basilisk’s could even with the light from the torches that illuminated her small frame from the grounds below the window.  Basilisk was different though.  Its sight was better than that of a cat’s in the rich of midnight.  Everything was a darkish grey to Basilisk rather than pitch. 

She didn’t seem to notice it watching, anticipating the moment it would take her. 

“Soon, dear lady…very soon,” it hissed beneath its breath.  For now, it had to feed and its next meal waited.  It slinked off into the night, quiet and unseen.  The soughing of the wind it made and the giant lizard-like pattern in the dry, dead earth were the only evidence of its presence.      

                Its talons clicked softly on the stone floor as it scurried into the castle’s dungeon.  The guards had never seen it since they were otherwise preoccupied with their desperate and futile attempt to save the kingdom. 

     No one ever went near the dungeon anymore.  Not since Basilisk had unleashed the darkness on it.  The people shied away from the evil that everyone surely felt seeping from the dingy, damp walls below the castle.  Basilisk squeezed through the confined space of the hall, feeling the cold irregular stones pressing in on its slimy body.  The long spikes that jutted from its spine lightly scratched the ceiling with a soft screeching sound that echoed back to its ears.  A normal person would have no difficulty fitting through the tunnels beneath the castle, but something as massive as Basilisk, had to make quit an effort.  It could have taken another form, but anticipation was too overwhelming.  It could not concentrate hard enough for the change to happen.  It was worth the difficulty though, especially with dinner waiting and Basilisk was ravenous.

It smelled the delicious fear on the man it was about to consume.  That particular emotion made its food taste remarkably better.  Because of this, it held its prey captive for long lengths of time.  It periodically gouged small portions from their flesh and ate it in front of them to increase the aroma of fear that wafted from their tormented bodies.  Their terror grew the longer it kept them, which added to their flavor like a succulent marinade.

There he was the savory little snack.  Tears streaked his dirty face and his bloodshot eyes, swollen from lack of sleep.  Of course, there was no way the little man could sleep knowing he would soon become a very delicious meal. 

Basilisk chuckled low in its throat.  The man’s skin, torn in places where the creature had sliced away tasty bites, trembled as if he was freezing.  But it wasn’t cold in the dungeon.  Basilisk had used magic to raise the temperature to sustain the life of its prey.  No, the man wasn’t cold.  He was terror-stricken. 

The man shook; his eyes grew wide, bulging in their sockets.  He strained against the chains binding him, but to no avail.  They only clattered against his efforts and bit deep into his skin.  Delicious, warm blood trickled down his forearms and dripped onto the dirt floor.  Basilisk’s nostrils flared as it took in the intoxicating scent.  The musky air was instantly ripe with the smell of it.

Basilisk’s pet leaned against the wall, her tan cloak hanging limply from her petite frame.  Her dull, brown eyes were vacant, but she smiled sweetly.  She had pulled her hair back in a bun and although she was not a pretty woman, she was somehow cute with her large almond-shaped eyes and the minute splash of freckles across the bridge of her turned-up nose.  She held the ability to rip the voice from anyone she wished.  When the victims screamed, she ripped, and Basilisk devoured.

Her power was one of the reasons it controlled her.  Just like the man sobbing soundlessly from amidst the thick chains that kept him prisoner, she had never stood a chance against Basilisk’s powers.  She had soon given in, becoming a mere puppet.  She would never remember any of this if she ever escaped, but that wasn’t likely to happen.

The scaly creature watched with amused curiosity as the man quivered.  It relished in the escalating terror that mantled its victim’s face from the exertion of trying to scream.  Veins bulged in the man’s neck.  The vessel protruding from his forehead looked as though it might burst at any moment. 

Try, try, but you’ll never make a sound, little man.  Basilisk snickered at its prey’s weak struggles for freedom.  Yes, be afraid be utterly terrified.  The more fear you have, the more delicious you will be.

Dirt flew through the air as the man kicked furiously.  One foot hit Basilisk’s front leg with a dull thud.  It was only a nuisance. 

Dislocating its elongated jaws with a gruesome, snapping sound, the creature’s mouth opened to a massive cave of razor sharp teeth.  Its scaly body shuddered with excitement akin to arousal. 

The mouth of its prey gaped in a silent scream as the freckle-faced woman worked her magic.  Steaming urine darkened the dirt between the man’s legs.  Basilisk didn’t mind.  It was nothing more than a touch of salt that seasoned its prey.

The creature sunk its teeth into the soft, trembling flesh protecting the man’s vital organs.  Bones cracked, snapped, crunched.  Warm blood erupted into Basilisk’s mouth.  It trembled with pleasure as its meal jerked and feebly struck out at his attacker.  Crimson fluid spurted from the man’s mouth.  His eyes bulged then dimmed in the last agonizing moments of life.  Yes, fear did taste delicious.

***********

Evil shall come and wrap your world within its darkened fist.  Rely upon the woman who sees beyond, the one whose eyes are kissed.  Janari thought of that part of the prophecy left by the late dragons, as she looked out the window into the vast darkness beyond.  She ruled this kingdom, the land of Karay. 

Her people, the Karenee clung to the hope that one day they would find happiness once again.  They looked forward to the day they would no longer live in the shadows of the menacing beast that had stolen all they held dear.

Although she could see nothing aside from the shimmering ice that surrounded the torches below her window, she knew her people hid in their homes.  Nobody wandered outside anymore.  They had long ago stored food and water, drug their children inside, and locked their doors and shutters.  They holed up in those homes not even chancing a peek outside. 

She drew her cloak firmly around her, feeling the chill of the air outside.  There was only a slight breeze, but that was enough to drive the cold deep into her bones.  She glanced at what was once crackling red and orange flames in the stone fireplace.  It was dying out, reduced to the soft glow of moldering embers.  She would not have it stoked however.  She would be leaving soon and did not want to waste wood.

It would be warmer if she closed the shutters.  She could not stand the darkness or the cold outside, but could not pull herself from it either.  She knew Basilisk was out there somewhere…watching. 

The beast had spread a blanket of destruction and despair across the land.  It had killed most of the vegetation, froze the blue waters, and instilled terror in her people and the surrounding kingdoms.  In its cruelty, it blocked out the warm light of the sun, casting their world into eternal night. 

Her castle, once lovely and glorious, became nothing more than ruins.  The sandstone had crumbled to the ground, and the curtain walls surrounding it reduced to rubble.  The towers at each of its corners fell in disrepair, and plant life withered and died.  The animals of their world had changed into hideous creatures lurking in the dark, hunting anyone who tempted to leave their shelters. 

A small portion of the castle remained standing, yet shadows lurked in every corner.  It too was beginning to decay, soon to deteriorate, and fall to the ground leaving behind only memories.

She wanted to scream and break something, anything.  She would never give into those feelings however.  She was a queen and her parents had instilled the old values in her, from the time when queens were proper in action and speech.  Basilisk had taken so much already.  It would not steal that as well.  She would hold to those values with all the strength she possessed, until the last of her life spilled in the battle to come. 

     "Janari?"  A voice cut into her thoughts. 

     Turning from the window, she already knew it was her childhood friend Sharice Lashay.  She was actually the ladies maid, but Janari hated referring to her as such.

     Sharice had pulled her dark hair back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck.  The tan cloak she wore reminded Janari of a sack draped over a scarecrow.  Sharice’s dull brown eyes, once full of life, were now like windows to a cold, dead world.  

"Yes," Janari answered softly.

     "Those you had asked for will be in the courtyard momentarily and the weapons have also been delivered as you had requested."

     "Thank you Sharice, and have you heard of the messenger yet?"

"Yes, the others said he is nearing the castle with the seer.  They should arrive shortly."

     The Lashays had worked in the castle for many generations and Sharice was much like a sister to Janari. 

They had once danced in the gardens and ran around the castle grounds playing numerous games, many they had used their imaginations to invent.  

Sadly, once they were nine years old, they went their separate ways.  Janari took lessons on being queen while Sharice learned her mother's trade. 

Although the people of her world had great powers, their gifts were far greater when the dragon’s had blessed them.  They had blessed Sharice’s family as well as many others, but the Lashays never fully mastered their abilities.  Unfortunately, some people in their world had more difficulty controlling their minds.  This never bothered Sharice; she had always appeared satisfied with her position in life. 

     "Your family has served mine for many years," Janari said as she peered out the window once more.

     "We have." 

     "You were very loyal and have been greatly appreciated."

     "I know you appreciate me," Sharice said crossing the room with nothing more than the whisper of her cloak.  "Don't speak as though you’ll never return.  It saddens me."

     "I just want you to know that I will truly miss you while I am away."  She wrapped her arms around her friend in a tight embrace.  Sharice barely reciprocated the gesture.

     Since Basilisk had come so many people had changed, become mere shells of what they once were.    

     At arm’s-length, Janari looked at her friend for a moment without speaking, then:  "I want you to take good care of yourself, Sharice." 

     "I love you, Janari."

     "I love you as well."

     "Please return safely.  I can’t bear life without you."

     "Do not worry about me.  I will do everything in my power to defeat Basilisk and reclaim these lands.”  She smiled warmly.  “From another land he will come and with you he will fight.  He powers the crystal and brings back the light.  That is what the prophecy says and I believe in those words.  Basilisk is not, and never will be stronger than I.” 

Sharice turned and quickly walked away.  She paused at the door and glanced back.  “And what if the prophecy is wrong?”

“How can the great dragons be wrong?”

 Sharice only offered a gentle smile then left, closing the door behind her.

     Turning her attention to the darkened grounds below, Janari felt emptiness grow in her chest until it seemed as if it would burst out from behind her ribs.

     Her body ached with sadness as she remembered the view she had once seen from this very window.  Only a couple of years ago colorful flowerbeds and thick luscious grass had covered the courtyard below.  The strong walls had stood high in a protective embrace around the castle, and the color of its sandstone, a purple that spoke of pure royalty.  There was a time when she had heard children playing and her people singing and laughing.  She had seen them selling their crafts alongside the streets and dancing during festivities that had taken place so often. 

     Now, all she heard was silence, for everyone remained afraid and hidden, and all she saw was darkness and the destruction of a beautiful world she was once proud to call home.

When evil had first descended upon them her husband, Mandar Adair, along with three knights and two warriors had lost his life.  Arlon Botolph, one of their greatest warriors had said the wolves of the forest had killed them.  Wounded while trying to save the king's life, he barely made it back to the castle alive.  Now he wore a gruesome scar across his cheek that would forever remind him of that great loss.

As she looked out the window with a view to nowhere but a cold, dark hell, her heart thudded inside her chest.  Anxiety filled her at the thought of the forthcoming journey.  She feared many would perish as so many already had.  She had been unable to help those living in the neighboring kingdoms, but some had survived the creature’s wrath. 

There were so many that Janari had been unable to save.  She wished she could have helped her husband years ago, but she was unaware that he would be in need of her protective powers.  Basilisk had taken over so quickly and so completely, no one was prepared.  The seer had sent messengers to all ends of the land in hopes to warn the people, but by the time her warnings had arrived the darkness was already upon them.

     Janari remembered what the king had been like when he was alive.  He was a just and powerful ruler, having all her respect if not her love.  He kept the peace and brought prosperity to their kingdom.  As for her, he had given her everything and denied her nothing.  He had even given her the beautiful name she carried. 

It was customary, in Karay, for the king to name his wife on their wedding night and she thought Mandar had chosen a beautiful one.  She had no idea what it meant and he had never said.  He would just smile secretly when she would ask.  No one else knew what it meant either.  He took that answer to his grave. 

She never loved her husband, as it was an arranged marriage, but she had cared for him deeply and ruling without him was difficult and lonely. 

Now, she had to save these lands, and their only hopes lie in the hands of a man from the other dimension, the dimension of humans.

Together, they alone held the power to stop the evil that took claim over Janari’s world.  Unfortunately, as the prophecy read, they must defeat it side by side. 

     "For heaven’s sake."  She groaned, detesting the idea of bringing him to Karay.  He was a wretched human after all, yet she had no choice.  The difference in their kind did not give her pause, because humans were the same as the Karenee.  The only true difference; they lived on separate plains of existence sharing one world and the Karenee had a far greater power over their minds.  She feared him not for what he was, but for what his coming to her kingdom could mean.

     Although she dreaded meeting the chosen one, she knew they needed him.  They had sought him out for two years, and now she learned the seer had glimpsed him in a vision.  She only knew where to find him in his world, but that had to be enough, for time was of the essence. 

     The ancient dragons said he would have great knowledge, and powers that exceeded that of the Karenee.  Janari did not need him to find Basilisk though.  She knew exactly who their enemy was and how to imprison it.  However, she did need him to find the solution to the crystal alignment.  Without it, they would forever live in darkness. 

Although it caused her great sorrow, she knew she had to rid her world of Basilisk, an evil that was once someone she had cared for deeply.  She no longer knew this person as she had, but grieved the loss regardless.  She could not believe that someone she held so close to her heart could betray her so completely. 

How could such a change happen?  It had never before been possible for a person to change into a gruesome creature, an evil sort of magic perhaps.  No, that had not existed in her world for centuries.  They were a peaceful race who never even fought between kingdoms.  Wars were unheard of these days and black magic…well, no one ever thought of its ancient existence any more.  Her eyes filled with moisture.

She not only shed tears for the loss of a loved one, but for the loss of her own life as well. 

Once the crystal is activated and the sun shines upon your land, the most powerful being must give the life that was once held in hand.  Those words slithered through her mind like a poisonous viper for she was the most powerful being in Karay and therefore would perish just as her husband had. 

    

Chapter 2

Quest

     "My Lady."   

     Janari turned to see the messenger she had sent out days prior with the urgent message of the seer’s required presence.  

     With a bow, he continued.  "Saria has arrived with me, My Lady."

     "I trust you found her without much trouble?"

"I did encounter some obstacles, but your protection kept me from harm.  I thank you."

     "It is I who should thank you for accepting this task."

     "It was an honor, My Lady."  He waved a hand toward the door.  "The seer has insisted on waiting for you in the chapel." 

     Of course, Janari thought.  Saria would insist on the chapel, as she had always asked the gods to grant her guidance and protection on any venture she undertook. 

Janari took a step toward the door then stopped.  With a heavy sigh, she took one last look at her chambers before leaving.

Her room use to be a spectacular sight with a large, glorious bed to the right of her that once wore a red velvet canopy.  Thick blankets of the softest furs, lined with exquisitely woven silks had adorned her plush feather stuffed mattress.

  On the floor, she had an elegant, emerald green rug with a variety of flowers embroidered around its edges.  Her husband had had it made special for her to keep her feet from touching the cold wood floors when she would step out of bed in the mornings.  

Now, malevolence shrouded it and everything else in her room like a heavy cloak.  Its shadowy folds imprisoned her personal possessions.  Darkness had swallowed them like a starved creature of the night. 

The full-length mirror that hung on her wall now reflected luminous eyes bulging out of a featureless face.  She had no idea what creature the looking glass held, but it was not her own reflection and that was enough to fill her with terror.  The daunting image reached out with blood stained claws whenever she wandered near.

     She remembered the first time it reflected the dreadful monster.  She had woken to a beautiful spring morning with birds singing outside and the sweet scent of flowers wafting up through the open window from the gardens below.  Stepping out of her warm bed, she had dressed in one of her royal gowns then made her way to the mirror. 

Her screams had echoed throughout the castle.  Several servants had rushed in as she lay on the floor, staring in horror at the mirror that had just moments earlier revealed the hideous beast.  It had grabbed her wrist with one of its claws.  She had struggled to break free from its ghastly grip and in doing so had fallen hard to the floor. 

     Her husband and servants had all rushed to her side, with looks of both fear and concern.  When she told them what had taken place, the looks turned to pity and disbelief. 

As her husband gently tucked her back into bed, she knew their darkest days were ahead of them and they would need salvation from pure evil.  The days of the prophecy had begun, but others simply did not wish to believe her, perhaps out of fear. 

She found herself looking at the mark the creature had left branded upon her skin.  Without thought, she rubbed the pads of her fingers over it.  They were nothing more than spots that formed a small arch in the center of her wrist. 

“A mark that compliments mine,” she muttered into the darkness. 

The prophecy said the chosen one had a mark that complimented hers.  How could that be when they were nothing more than simple dots?  It did not make any sense.  They did not appear to be anything of importance.  She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the unwanted distraction, and turned towards the door.

     She took a torch from the wall to light her way.  As she walked down the hall, the stench of a thousand rotting corpses assaulted her nose not that there were any corpses around.  She believed Basilisk had brought the stench that poisoned the air of the castle simply to torment them. 

     With a delicate hand cupped over her nose and mouth, she traveled to the far end of the castle.  As she walked, she passed the once beautiful treasures she had become accustomed to seeing.  There were oil paintings of the late dragons, family portraits, and several tables displaying statues of the Gods and Goddesses.  Now they were ominous looking, as was everything else the evil had touched.  They looked aged a century although it had only been two years since the darkness had come.  The evil had altered the statues into strange horrific creatures that resembled gargoyles and demons.  The eyes of her ancestors gleamed with hatred as they watched her walk down the hall.  It was as if they had a life of their own.  With a shudder, she hurried past them.  

Two servants opened the chapel doors.  She took a deep breath then stepped over the threshold.  The despair that engulfed the room made her swallow hard.  Her leather boots made a soft click tap as she walked into the room.  She started at the sound of the doors as the servants closed them behind her.  It let out a loud groan that echoed throughout the room, adding to the sheer misery of the place.

Saria stood before the statue of Takarra.  It used to be a replica of the lovely goddess of peace, but was now something a person would find in their worst nightmares.  It reminded Janari of the horror that she had felt at the sight of the appalling reflection she had seen so many times in the mirror that hung in her chambers.

Hideous snakes had replaced the statues flowing hair.  Claws that were once delicate hands with long slender fingers, now dug deep into the sculptures abdomen as if it were disemboweling itself.  Janari looked away from the abomination and to Saria. 

She was a small woman much like Janari, standing a mere five foot two.  Her hair was short, black, and curly and her skin a flawless looking ebony.  She wore a thick black cloak to ward off the cold.  Beneath it, she had on a simple white dress that all women used in magical duels.  Both sides were slit and a large gold belt wrapped around the waist, allowing its wearer to equip magical weaponry.  Janari had asked that all the women on this journey wear one except for the warrior Laylee.  She was to wear the leather and steel garments of the warriors.

Saria was petite and fragile looking, but Janari would not let looks deceive her.  She knew of the woman’s powers, and although they did not rival her own, they were impressive.

     "My Lady.  I am Saria."  She curtsied and for a moment stared with a look that Janari had seen many times before.  "It had been rumored that you are as beautiful as the Gods themselves.  The rumors are correct."

     Janari never understood why so many people made such a fuss over her appearance.  She didn’t see what they did.

     "I thank you for your compliment."  Janari turned and paced the room, distressed by the upcoming journey.  She stopped abruptly.

     "I know," Saria said.  "The time is upon us, and I am needed to show the way to the human."

     "Yes," Janari said.  She stared at the statue of Takarra.  "The Gods will be with us, but we must be ever mindful of the dark forces that will try to stop us."  She looked back at Saria.  "We need to make our way through the darkest lands to reach the sacred place not yet touched by the shadows.  It is there that Shakra, the great sorcerer, will open the portal to the human's world.”  She cringed inwardly, hating to think of the human even for a brief moment.  His kind had already brought so much despair to her people.  She shook the feeling loose and continued, “We do not fully understand the other dimension.  So much time has passed since our people had last visited.”

     “I understand, My Lady.”

     “We also do not know what obstacles we will encounter, but we must fulfill the prophecy,” Janari continued.  “We will not be able to find the human without you.  My powers are weakening.  Most of the energy I have left will be focused on keeping the protective barrier around the people of Karay and the sacred place while we are gone."

     “When will we be leaving, My Lady?” 

     "Those I have chosen to accompany us should be waiting in the courtyard, so we must go now.  There is not much time left to convince this human to come to our aid."  Avoiding the sight of the hideous statue, Janari turned on her heels.  “Please follow me.” 

     They walked in silence through the great hall, with only the feeble amount of light provided by Janari’s torch.  The stench of decay clung to them.  It was nearly suffocating as they made their way towards the doors leading to the courtyard.  Two servants opened them upon their approach. 

     Janari looked back at Saria, who was only a foot or so away.  "Are you ready for this quest?" she asked as she pulled her hood up for protection against the bitter cold.

     "I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, My Lady."

     They stepped outside.  The others had gathered in the middle of the grounds.  The crisp air angrily bit Janari’s face, but she refused to bow her head to it. 

     The frosted ground crackled beneath their feet as they walked on the once beautiful garden, which now resembled a frigid wasteland, permeated by death and desolation. 

They reached the group and Janari introduced Saria to each of them. 

“These are the sisters of the four elements,” she began. 

The sisters were so similar in appearance one could hardly tell them apart.  They stood a couple of inches taller than Saria, with ivory skin and wavy, blonde hair that hung to their shoulders.  They had travelled from the lands of Tabricon, just East of Karay.  It was not a long journey, but the dangers must have been considerable. 

Janari gestured to each of the sister.  “This it Kaylee, bringer of fire, Palita, keeper of water, Tanni, the earth walker, and Sonya, the breath of the wind.” 

“I’m pleased to meet all of you,” Saria said.  The light from the torch danced across her features as she nodded to each of them.

“You as well,” the sisters said in unison.    

Janari turned to face two bulky, dark-haired men. “I would like you to meet two of my knights,” she said.  “Sir Gallea, and Sir Rombee.” 

They were two towers of intimidation.  Like everyone else in the group, they adorned heavy cloaks to protect them from the elements, but underneath they wore leather and chainmail. 

The sheer size of them made one think they had no need for protection from anything.  It seemed that even the frigid air would turn warm just to stay on their good side. 

Janari looked up at them.  “They possess the strength of ten men and have the ability to communicate with animals.” 

“Ten men?  Yes, I can see that,” Saria said in a hushed voice.

     The corners of Janari’s mouth quirked up.  Yes, the two men were frightening looking, but they were as gentle as kittens unless otherwise provoked. 

     Four champion warriors stood to the right of Gallea and Rombee.  Janari chose them for their ability to regenerate when wounded. 

     “This is Skylar,” Janari said. 

     He was a short, but powerful young man, whose eyes still held the look of hope even in these dark days.

     Saria nodded then followed Janari’s gaze to the next in line.   

     “This is Arlon, the greatest warrior I have ever known.”

     “Thank you, My Lady,” he said and bowed.

     “This is Shebaro and Laylee,” she continued.  “Shebaro is a young warrior with an attitude to match his fiery red hair and Laylee is the only woman in my kingdom to earn the title of warrior.” 

     Laylee stood just over six feet tall, with a masculine build and a bold haircut to match.  Her features were chiseled like that of a marble statue, but when she smiled her face transformed so dramatically that it looked more like the face of a sweet young nanny rather than a powerful warrior. 

     “One of the most important members of the group,” Janari said with a smile, “is the king of Tabricon.  He is the most powerful sorcerer in his Kingdom.”  She motioned to a seemingly dead Lace Elm draped in shadows to the far right of them.  “This is Shakra.” 

     Upon introduction, the tree began to transform.  The trunk’s rough bark melted into smooth folds of black suede.  Its branches twisted together then gave shape to leather-covered arms with youthful looking hands poking out from under the cuffs.

     Everyone watched in fascination as the top of the tree shrank towards the earth, forming the head of a mysterious looking person shrouded in a black hood.  No one other than Janari had ever witnessed shape shifting before.  It was an impressive sight.  Aside from Janari’s late husband, Shakra was the only other being who possessed this ability.

     Murmurs filled the air, as the trees roots broke free from their dirt prison, bound together, shrank, and became feet clad in leather boots. 

     Shakra wore his heavy sorcerer's robes with a gold plaited belt tied loosely around the waist.  Jet-black hair cascaded down his back in soft waves of shining silk that appeared to become one with his attire.  To the middle of his chest hung a shimmering black beard laced with a touch of silver that only accentuated the erudite aura surrounding the wise man. 

     Everyone quickly bowed to him.

     Once Janari’s life was over, Shakra would take control of her kingdom until the Karenee chose another ruler.

     The great dragons had blessed both of their families.  They were chosen for their immense compassion and love for the world in which they lived.  Their ancestors had accepted the blessing with gratitude, vowing to use the power solely for good.

All generations to follow had inherited these gifts and therefore, possessed abilities far exceeding that of all others in their world.  Shakra had learned to use his powers well.  Janari had the utmost faith in his ability to protect Karay and rule with compassion and fairness. 

     Approaching him with a friendly smile, Janari said, "Welcome Shakra.  Thank you for joining us.  Your powers will be immensely valuable."

     "You know that I would do anything for my people as well as yours, My Lady." 

"I know you would.  You are a true friend to these lands, indeed."

     She turned to face Saria.  "These great men and women will lead us to the sacred place.  However, they will have to stay behind and protect it in the event that my powers become too weak."

     "I understand."  Saria nodded.

     Turning to face the rest of the group, Janari said, "As you well know, this will be extremely dangerous.  You can be assured that you will all be greatly rewarded upon the defeat of Basilisk."  She bowed low before them.  "I shall bow to all of you for your courage in accepting this task.  I am honored to be accompanied by such valiant souls."

     This show of respect took everyone by surprise, since royalty bowing before others was unheard of.  Janari felt they deserved it far more than she did.  Most of them had families and therefore their sacrifice would be far greater since she had none.  For years, she was unable to bear children.  She deeply regretted not having been able to give her husband a child, but he was always understanding and accepting of this fact. 

     "We are ready then," Janari said.  "All we need to do now is arm ourselves with the weapons I had delivered." 

     With the wave of a hand, she directed their attention to the left of them where a large, wooden chest sat alone in the unforgiving cold. 

     "Let us act quickly," she said.  "Take the weapons and supplies that I give you and we will be on our way." 

They hurried to the chest, and Janari handed her torch to Shakra.  Removing a golden key from around her neck, she stooped down to open the chest that had been, for generations, a safe haven for the greatest magical weaponry that existed in their world.

     "For you Saria."  Janari pulled out a staff made of smooth red wood with both of her gloved hands then presenting it to her.

     It had stunning symbols of power engraved throughout its length.  Secured by strips of leather, the top held long exquisite feathers, from the golden wings of the last glorious dragon that had once graced their world.

     "This staff is blessed by the dragons,” Janari continued, “and holds the ability to slow any and all who try to stop us.”

     Saria took it into her hands and a warm smile spread across her face.  She ran a delicate finger over the smooth wood.  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. 

     “It is,” Janari said.  “It also creates a shield around all you wish to protect.  However, we will not be able to get past its shields any more than the enemy can get through, so it must be used temporarily.”

     Saria looked up as she gently stroked the staff.  “I understand, My Lady.”

     “Most importantly, it enhances your natural abilities.  This will help you to see more clearly and hold your visions longer." 

     Saria nodded and took the bag of supplies Janari offered then thanked her with a brief curtsy.  She draped the bag over her shoulder, slid the staff into her belt as she stepped back allowing the next in line to gather their items.

To the sisters, Janari gave silver wands that allowed them to better control their abilities and to strengthen their already great powers.

Rombee and Gallea received gleaming silver and gold swords and shields.  The shields gave increased protection and the swords allowed those who possessed them to have twice their normal strength. 

She then presented the warriors with oak staffs that held the power of both strength and accuracy. 

Janari quickly retrieved a long-handled scepter for herself.  The light from the torch played on its silver surface like phantom tongues, eager to taste its sweetness.  Janari marveled at the brilliance of the diamond-encrusted sphere at the top of it.  It sparkled in the light as if embedded with a million tiny stars. 

It was a magnificent instrument, which had the ability to heal wounds and to breathe life into the dead.  Created for the time of the prophecy, it could only bring back the life of one soul.  Janari believed the chosen one to be that soul.  

She also took into her possession a simple gold medallion.  It would put to sleep nearly every living being she directed it to. 

     "Shakra," she turned and took the torch from him, "will be using the ring of light that had been handed down to him for many generations." 

     He pulled from the folds of his robe a necklace made of woven leather.  Hanging from it was a golden ring, the same circumference as a small crab apple. 

He slipped it over his head, closed his eyes, and placed the tips of his fingers together pointing toward the ground in an upside down triangle.  Slowly, he moved his thumbs from the top of the ring to the bottom in a circular motion. 

A whisper escaped his lips as a fait glow spiraled from the ring.  Janari could not be certain what he had said, but the entire courtyard flooded with soft light, and the temperature around the group rose to a tolerable degree.  They still had to wear their warmer garments, but their faces would no longer feel the sting of deep winter.

     "This ring will light our way and keep warm the area surrounding us," Shakra said.  "The warmth will be minimal, and the light dim, but it will protect us from the cold and allow us to see far better through the darkened woods."

“Won’t it bring unwanted attention to us?”  Kaylee asked from behind Skylar.

“That is a very good question,” Shakra said with a gentle smile that tugged at his whiskers and lifted his black and silver mustache.  “I directed the ring to work for those within this area.  Its magic is for us alone.  No others can benefit from it, which means they cannot see its light nor feel its warmth.”

Janari assessed the group, and felt confident that she had chosen well.  It was time to begin their long, perilous journey. 

"We need to move," she said.  "We have very little time left to defeat Basilisk."

**********

Basilisk made the mistake of being seen in its true form on two occasions.  The Karenee who had glimpsed it saw very little and gave message to the queen that it was a giant snake—a Basilisk.  It laughed at that.  It wasn’t the name it used to go by, but that was fine with it.  However, a serpent it was not.  They would soon learn that and bow at its feet for what it really was. 

It took the form of a Karenee on rare occasions these days.  It seldom needed to since the time of its tragic death.  The beautiful queen had believed its lies for so many years and had never once questioned it.  Now it controlled nearly every creature in her world.  It sensed her powers weakening by the day.  Soon the queen would have to admit defeat and when she did, it would control her as well. 

The destruction of her beautiful Kingdom was almost complete.  When it was, Basilisk’s own kingdom would be born in its place.  

It looked out the window of the queen’s chambers and saw the group gathering their weapons and supplies.  They would never defeat it and were fools to try. 

It did like to toy with its victims however, and thought it amusing to let them believe they had a chance.  Their defeat would be that much sweeter, and the queen’s ultimate surrender more divine.  The thought of her bare skin beneath it made Basilisk’s blood surge with excitement.  It could have her right now if it wanted.  No, it wouldn’t.  It couldn’t.

It was enjoying the game too much. 

Power was exhilarating and Basilisk wished it could have had it long ago while living in the human world. 

The beast knew that the one they called Shakra would open the portal soon.  It would watch and learn how to open that gateway and once Basilisk had control over this world, it would then take the savior’s world as well.  The humans would pay for what they had done, but Basilisk would not repeat mistakes of the past.  It knew it had immense powers now.

Basilisk and several of its kind had tried on many occasions to take control of the human world but had failed.  They were unaware, just as the human’s were, of their abilities and fought with only strength, and cunning.

Humans outnumbered them and nearly ended their species.  They would have if Basilisk had not escaped.  It was fortunate enough to have found the portal to Karay centuries ago. 

It had seen the power of the Karanee and watching them train over many years, Basilisk learned how to tap into its own powers.  Its abilities first manifested as episodes of controlling—to a small extent—the temperature of the air in the immediate vicinity, but soon it was able to transform the sun-drenched skies into a canopy of turmoil. 

After many decades, it found it had other abilities.  It could transform into whatever creature it wished, control the weaker beings of this dimension, and look through their eyes.  It spent its time patiently honing these skills until the time came to rule this dimension, and that time was now.

     It would watch these pathetic beings throughout their futile quest, and slowly kill all of them except the precious queen of course.  It had something different in mind for her. 

    The queen was the most beautiful maiden it had ever seen and it had seen many.  It had devoured many over the years, but this rare beauty would not satisfy that appetite.

**********

 As they made their way toward the woods, Janari glanced back over her shoulder.  Standing at the window of her chambers was Basilisk.  Even in human form, the thing made her shudder.  It smiled sweetly, but the kindness of that smile was not what Janari saw in its eyes.  They were like two black holes, meant to swallow all light, all life, and all hope. 

Janari would never allow that to happen.

“I will defeat you,” she whispered, “no matter how heart breaking it may be.”

As they made their way to the edge of the seemingly deserted town, several shutters creaked open.  Heads cautiously leaned out, witnesses to the beginning of the groups dangerous journey through the dark forbidding forest bordering it.

The trees cast an aura of death and petrifaction.  Their branches stretched out like the claws of demons.  It was as if they were waiting to seize their prey, mangle the bodies, and throw them aside with a maniacal laugh. 

Janari clutched the scepter as her heart hammered in her chest.  A queen should never be frightened…yet she was.

Through the ashen light provided by Shakra’s ring Janari could see a small portion of the sky.  It resembled a sea of molten lave as thick crimson clouds roiled overhead.  Bolts of lightning slashed through the sky as if to dare anyone to enter. 

     They must make the journey on foot since the horses and other animals of the land had long ago become part of the shadows.  Basilisk now forced them to do its bidding. 

     They walked for several miles through the woodland, hearing nothing but the wind soughing through the trees and the occasional twig snapping underfoot.

     “Basilisk is searching for us,” Saria whispered.

     “Basilisk itself is coming?”  Janari asked in a thin voice.

     “Not exactly, but it will be watching through the eyes of one of its minions.”

     An alarming clatter fractured the silence.  Janari spun around.  Arlon had dropped his sword on a large flat rock.

     Saria’s eyes slipped from one side of the forest to the other as the sword’s echo reverberated through the lifeless trees.  "They know where we are," she forewarned.  "Be ready to fight."  Raising the staff, she prepared for battle.

     The others quickly formed an outward-facing circle around her, Shakra, and Janari. 

Flaming eyes peered out of the darkness just beyond their area of light.  Janari gasped as several enormous wolf-like creatures leapt from the shadows with an ululate cry. 

     "Saria!"  She shouted, "You must create a protective barrier now!"    

Saria thrust the staff high above her head, surrounding the group in a luminous orb. 

One of the creatures lunged at them, but hit the shield instead and toppled backwards.  Its paws clawed frantically at the dirt, but quickly found its footing.  It glowered at them and let loose a deep-throated growl. 

The giant wolves circled them, eyes ablaze and fixed on their prey.  They periodically hit the shield, obviously in search of weak points.  Their lips pulled back in repulsive grins, showing hideous fangs that dripped with saliva like that of rabid dogs. 

     "We cannot attack them with the protective barrier around us, My Lady," Sir Rombee anxiously pointed out.

     "Saria, upon my say, drop the shield and slow the wolves with the power of the staff," Janari commanded.  "Knights, when the barrier is down, attack the beasts to the right of us and warriors attack those on the left."

 She then directed her attention to the sisters.  "I need the four of you to remain in a circle around us.  You must protect us at all costs."  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then cried out, "Now!" 

Chapter 3

Andre De La Porte

Andre De La Porte woke to the sound of his rude neighbors slamming their door on the way out of the apartment building.  He pushed the lid off his makeshift casket.  It was actually a custom, made to order packing crate, he had purchased from overseas many years ago.  They had definitely made them sturdy back then.  He had to give them credit for that.  The thing was nearly a decade old and was still holding up fine. 

Climbing out, he noticed the time was only five in the evening and the sun wouldn’t be setting for a couple of hours.

“Crappy neighbors.”  He grumbled. 

It was a good thing his windows were well covered otherwise he may have found himself in a very warm predicament. 

He stretched his cramped muscles and snatched the comb off the end table.  He ran it through his hair, not caring if it did its job or not, then tossed it back with a flick of his wrist. 

He wasn’t sure what to do.  He was stuck in his rattrap of an apartment until sunset.  He settled for relaxing on the over-stuffed couch to finish a fantasy novel he’d been reading the last couple of nights. 

When he was done, he tossed the book onto the growing stack he’d been collecting for at least a year, and debated on whether or not he should take them to the bookstore down town.  They would give him credit to use toward a few he hadn’t read.  I’ll do that tomorrow, he thought.

He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and flipped on the television.  Skimming through the hundred or so channels he had paid the cable company for, he had to laugh.  That figured.  A huge selection of channels was literally at his fingertips, yet there was absolutely nothing to watch. 

Looking at the clock on the wall to his left, he noticed it was a little after six.  He groaned.  Class would begin in two and a half hours and he had no idea what to do until then.  Time went by slowly these years, with him going through them night after night, impatiently waiting for Sunday to arrive.  That was the only day he could walk in the sun and it was all due to the amulet he wore around his neck. 

He had a difficult time finding entertainment in Midnight Springs.  He was going to catch a movie after class in order to burn some time, but now, he was at a loss.

Midnight café was just around the corner.  He could purchase a new book from them and read a bit, or perhaps he would just browse their new-aged crap on psychic powers and taro readings.  That would be amusing if nothing else.

Andre crossed the room of his studio apartment to the icebox, pulled out a bottle of AB positive, and sat on his shabby but comfortable recliner next to the front door. 

He downed the pint of black market blood and tossed the empty bottle in the trash next to him.  He scanned his sparse but tidy apartment.  With exception to the ever-growing mountain of books, it was tidy.  He really hadn’t accumulated much in his numerous years of life, if a being could even call it life.  Other vampires had lavished themselves with century’s worth of material possessions.  He stayed clear of that for whatever reason.  If he had to guess, it was probably due to his lack of interest in shopping.  There were just too many inconsiderate people out there and inconsiderate people made him want to drain them of their worthless lives and drop their bodies in a ditch somewhere.  That would simply be rude of me, wouldn’t it?  He thought with a grin.

**********

After sunset, he left his apartment and walked down the deserted sidewalk to Midnight café.  A group of young women loitered in the parking lot out front, still trying to be teeny-bobbers.  They whispered about Andre as he walked to the front of the café.  Obviously, they were unaware he could hear them and began discussing how good his butt looked in his jeans. 

“He’s so hot.  I could wear him like a teddy.”  He heard one of them say. 

“I’d love to take him home and break in the new place right.”  Another girl said.

He couldn’t help tossing her his sexiest smile before walking in to order his coffee. 

Giggles filled the air as the door shut behind him and he wondered how girls could go through life not realizing how absurd they acted.  

The girl who wanted to take him home, no older than twenty-five he guessed, would have been surprised if he decided to make her his next entré.  If she knew he was old enough to be her multi-great grandfather who was reduced to worm food in a grave somewhere years ago, she would change her mind real quick.  If she knew what he was, she would run screaming for daddy to rescue her. 

Girls like her ought to be careful whom they take up with in this town.  Although he didn’t allow vampires to dine in his territory, he knew several of them hunted east of town.  If she were to meet up with one of them, breaking in her new place would be the last of her worries.

Andre ordered his usual medium mocha madness with no whipped cream and walked to the other side of the store.  He quickly skimmed through the books they had on display.  One stood out that he knew he had never read before, so he plucked it off the shelf and took it to the counter.

His drink still wasn’t ready.  He tapped his foot and drummed his fingers on the counter.  He had to wait nearly fifteen minutes then with scowl paid for both.  He sat on the worn leather couch pushed tightly against a yellowish wall directly across from the counter. 

     The wall reminded him of baby crap.  It wasn’t the best color to use in a café, but who was he to judge. 

     He glanced at his watch and realized he would have to start back if he were going to make it to work on time.  A century ago, he would have drained the little trite behind the counter for having taken her sweet time making his coffee.  Actually, he would have ditched the coffee and drained her regardless.  Obviously, she was too busy smacking gum around inside her mouth to do her job promptly.

     Passing the immature women and their incessant giggling, he rounded the corner and hopped into his truck that he had parked just outside the apartment complex. 

     The streetlight went out months ago, casting his part of the block into shadows, which he hated.  Darkness just wasn’t something he cared for anymore, and he wished the city people would get off their overweight fannies and fix the problem.  He already sent numerous complaints about the damned light with no response. 

     Mumbling to himself, he took a sip of coffee and set it in the holder above the ashtray.  His briefcase full of last week’s homework was on the floorboard on the passenger’s side and he tossed it an amused glance as he chuckled. 

     He marveled at the stupidity of today’s youths as he brought the truck to life and headed for the university.

**********

     The classroom was bursting with students and laughter when Andre walked in and set his briefcase and now cold coffee on his desk.  The task for the day:  To force knowledge about Egyptian pyramids into the puny brains of his ‘I just want to party and have sex’ college students. 

     He had an easy lesson plan for the night though, and had decided to dismiss class early since it was Friday and they were all itching to attend a huge campus party complete with beer and a band, The Smashing something or another’s. 

     He didn’t understand today’s psycho inducing music and didn’t want to.  He was certain it had a lot to do with rising crime rates and the inability for kids to pull up their pants and use their brains. 

     The music of the eighty’s and ninety’s was acceptable he supposed, but he would always love the music of the seventeenth century most.   

     He waited for the last of his students to find their seats before beginning his lecture about Giza, one of the most astounding pyramids constructed.  He was enjoying teaching this part of history.  At least there was a slim chance the history of the pyramids was accurate unlike some of the garbage he had to fill their already imbecilic minds with.

     He’d been teaching history at Midnight Springs University for five years and would probably be able to continue for five more before needing to move.  After all, eyebrows would rise if he were supposed to look seventy years old yet only looked thirty. 

     Andre usually started a new life every decade so he could avoid the suspicious looks and the array of questions he didn’t care to answer.  He did love his job here, however with the exception of the harridan of a dean who watched his every move.  He would love to take a big bite out of her before he left but knew she’d taste the same as she appeared, stale and bitter with a hint of ‘yes, I’m a pretentious hag’.  Other than that wrinkled up old harpy, he was very much content with his position here and regretted ever having to leave.

**********

     The smell of perfume, cologne, and body odor filled his nostrils, as did the delicious sent of life.  Andre shook his head to dispel the thought of fine dining and looked at his class that now watched him expectantly.

     “Good evening class,” he said as he pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase: last week’s essays on the Mayan civilization. 

     One paper in particular stood out.  One of his more enlightened students, Brent Basham, wrote a pithy little essay Andre found rather entertaining.  The only thing he included in his paper that was actually about Mayan civilization was the Mayan calendar, which lead to Mr. Basham’s own beliefs about the end of days.  This concept was humorous to say the least.  Andre had never taken with the idea of prophecy or fate, which he thought had to be ideas made up by a group of hippies who ate too many mushrooms for their own good.  

     What was the most amusing about this particular essay was the accuracy of it was probably closer to the truth than that of the history books. 

     Unfortunately, since the kid was apparently too baked to understand any of Andre’s lectures and clearly made up a load of crap he had hoped would make him appear to know what he was talking about, Andre had to give his essay a failing grade. 

      It really was a pity.  He would have liked to give him an “A” on creativity and unsurpassed stupidity at the very least.

     “First, I would like to pass out every ones essay from last week,” Andre began.  “If you remember the papers were supposed to be on the Mayan civilization, and there will be no redoes on this assignment.”  He glanced at Brent, who quickly looked down at his desk; obviously aware he was indeed not going to receive a passing grade yet again. 

     After handing out the mind-numbing essays, Andre quickly began class in hopes of ending soon enough to make one of the ten thirty shows at the downtown cinema.

     “Yesterday we learned about the great pyramid of Egypt,” Andre began as he thumbed through his notes for the evening’s speech.  “Today, we will resume our schooling on pyramids by continuing with Giza,” he informed them.  “About four and a half thousand years ago the great pyramid of Giza was built for king Khufu.  Its design is so amazing and awe inspiring that many people wonder if humans were even responsible for its construction.” He paused for a moment to be sure everyone was paying attention.  He didn’t want any ‘I’m too stoned for this’ answers on Monday’s exam as it reflected badly on him as a teacher.

      He took a sip of cold coffee and continued.  “Aside from its sheer size, it was the largest building in the world until the construction of the Eiffel tower at the end of the 19h century.  It is believed by most that it took around 20 years to build a pyramid in those days.”  It amused him that a human thought twenty years was such a long time.  It was but a mere second of time for him, if that. 

     He flipped to the next page of his notes and heard the classroom door quietly shut as he caught the familiar scent of an age-old enemy. 

     Andre slowly looked up and searched the room.  He caught site of the brawny redhead who stood at the back of the room, arms crossed over his massive chest and a wry smile on his face. 

     Darrel Waltz, a shifter with a glint in his eye that said he wanted more than the benefits of a higher education.

     “I haven’t seen you here before.”  Andre said as he circled around to the front of his desk and casually leaned into it.  “Are you new in class?”

     Curious eyes followed Andre’s steely gaze to the back of the room where Darrell stood.  If they only new what he really was, they’d run screaming and immediately dispatch a mob of ruthless killers to dispose of it.  Of course, they’d do the same to a vampire and rightly should, but shifters where no threat to the humans.  However, they were definitely a threat to vampires.

     “Actually, I’m just auditing the class,” Darrell said coolly.  “You don’t mind being watched for a while, do you professor?”

     “Not at all,” Andre replied, still glaring across the room at the shifter.  “I hope you enjoy the lecture and if you have any questions feel free to stay after class,” he said.  “If you need me to explain anything, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

      “Don’t worry professor.  I plan on staying.” Darrell assured him.  “I already have a discussion in mind.”  He tapped the side of his head and shot Andre a crooked smile.

     “I look forward to it,” Andre said and made his way back to his notes. 

     “Now where was I?  Oh yes, here we are,” he said.  “A common fallacy that most movies would lead you to believe about the pyramids is that slaves were used in their construction.” 

     He glanced up at the shifter as he continued.  “In fact, pyramids were built by some twenty thousand people of whom approximately four thousand were short-term conscripts but none were slaves.” 

     Andre continued his lecture, ever watchful of the shifter.   He was actually looking forward to the confrontation he knew was inevitable.  It would be a break in routine and Andre could definitely use that.

     What he couldn’t understand was why a lonely hound would call him out.  Didn’t he remember how old Andre was and how much more powerful he was than a single shifter?

     He finished packing information into the heads of the students who would only wash it away with an abundance of liquor consumption later then wrote the evenings assignment on the board. 

     “All right class,” he started.  “Please write down the assignment for next week and keep in mind the test on Monday will be twenty-five percent of your over-all grade.” 

     He dropped the dry erase marker on his desk and scanned his class.  “So don’t get so plastered tonight that you drown out the knowledge I just gave you.” 

     His student’s let out hoops and hollers in a pitch that hurt his ears.  He smiled and put his hands in the air, gesturing for them to settle down. 

     When the room fell as silent as possible, given the excitement in the air, Andre finished.  “Aside from what you learned today and I hope you learned something, you will also need to remember yesterdays lecture, so keep the following questions in mind.”  He glanced at Darrell, who still stood at the back of the room patiently waiting, and continued.  “What was the most important material needed in the construction of a pyramid?  The great pyramid stands how many feet high with a slope of what? And how many chambers did it have?” 

     Darrell watched him with amusement as he ended class, and Andre grew increasingly curious about the shifters motives for being there. 

     What in the world could the canine want anyway?  He couldn’t want a showdown with a vampire as old as he.  It would be a massacre and the dog should know that, so if he didn’t want to fight, what did he want?

 

**********

     They watched each other silently as the last of the students left, nervously darting their eyes between Andre and the shifter before cautiously walking out the door.

     Yep, Andre would hear about this from Satan’s hag as soon as she gets wind of the tension the students felt between him and Fido.  The nosey old bat would want to know just what was going on in his classroom that unnerved so many of his students.  He wasn’t looking forward to kissing her wrinkled old butt, however he did enjoy his job here, so let the prune kissing begin.

     “Hello old friend,” Darrell said after the door shut, leaving them in solitude.

     “I wouldn’t call us friends exactly,” Andre replied, leaning back on his desk.  “What do you want shifter?”

     Darrell cautiously made his way toward the front of the room, closing the space between him and the vampire.  “I have come to inform you the others are concerned about your close proximity to the humans.”

     “As you well know shifter, I haven’t had a human in centuries, so I don’t see how my close proximity can be of any consequence to you or your kind.”

     “We’re just being cautious, especially with the uprising of the vampires on the horizon,” he said, sitting on one of the student’s desks. 

     Andre made a mental note to disinfect it as soon as the tail chaser left.  “I haven’t heard of any uprising.” 

     “Is that so?” he asked with one brow raised.  “All the same, you should steer clear of the humans.”

     “I have no intentions of leaving my position here if that’s what you’re trying to suggest.”

     “We wouldn’t want you to vamp out on some poor little college student, that’s all?”

     “Tell your people to leave me alone or I’m liable to vamp out on them.”

     “I don’t think you’ll want to do that, Andre,” Darrell said as he lifted himself from the desk and made his way to the door.  “You can’t take down the whole pack, dear friend,” he said as he walked out, letting the door swing shut behind him.

**********

     Andre hurried down the halls of the university and spied Devil woman coming his way.  Oh, crap! 

     He darted into an adjoining hallway, desperately trying to avoid her.  He left from the west wing of the building rather than the East where his truck was parked.

     Stinking old hag!  He would have to go all the way around the building now.  At least he had saved himself from the torture of dealing with the geriatric shrew from Hell.

     Funny, here he was a powerful vampire running from a decrepit old bitty teetering precariously on the edge of her grave.  He’d love to give her that last little push into it.    

     Glancing at his watch, he realized he had twenty minutes to make it to the theatre, so he quickly made a beeline for his truck.  After unlocking and opening the driver’s side door, he tossed his briefcase on the passenger’s seat. 

     His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air like a bloodhound that just picked up a trail.  Glancing over his shoulder, he watched with narrowed eyes as a large pack of shifters lined the parking lot not far from him.  They stood glaring at him with teeth bared and eyes burning with fury.

     That was never a good sign.