21
DRAYNOR
The bike roars. The wind screams. The road is deserted, a lonely stretch of highway that seems to vanish at the ice-crusted horizon.
The forest is horribly quiet.
Dawn is shutting down again. I could sense some of her feelings at the house, especially in the intense moment when she came in contact with Kain’s flesh, but I couldn’t feel nearly what I should have been able to. And now I can’t feel a thing. It’s like an empty hole, a black pit where my empathy usually resides — cold and hollow. Being around Dawn … she’s the only thing that makes me feel alive.
I’m not ready to be dead.
It’s a strange thing to spend centuries coming to terms with being immortal, to know you’ll never again hear your own heartbeat, and suddenly be thrust back into a world where all that matters
