prologue
YEAR NINE OF THE NEW WORLD ORDER
As the carriage rolled across the desolate plains, the assassin slid his gaze over to his traveling companions. Husband and wife. Joined by love and a dedication that would soon cost them everything.
It's unusual for Lord Valentine to send an escort along for our journey back to Denver, the wife said, studying him.
Attacks have increased lately, he replied, his tone as dead and uncaring as he was.
We are appreciative of the consideration, the husband added. The Great Vampire Lord doesn't often show such favor.
You were always his favorites, he said, already speaking of the couple in the past tense.
The moon was high and clear, its blue light piercing through the windows. The horses were traveling at a full gallop, their hooves pounding against the ground in perfect rhythm.
Lord Valentine was pleased with the latest blood supply figures, the wife said, a nervous tic in her voice, as she perhaps recognized that not all was right.
Of course, he assured her, although quantities and numbers were irrelevant to him. He marveled at their innocence. I would like to ask you a question, he said, looking directly at the husband. Does your daughter have any idea about her true heritage?
The man was taken aback. It was the last thing he expected to hear.
Dawn lives in ignorance, he said. And it is my dearest wish that she stay that way forever.
A shame, the assassin murmured.
What is he talking about? the woman asked, concern etched across her face.
She doesn't know, the assassin realized. Her husband has kept the truth from her. I'll never understand these humans.
It's nothing, love, the husband said, his attempt at a comforting tone so butchered it was comical.
Oh, it's everything, the assassin replied.
The past was buried long ago. There's no reason to dig it up.
The assassin looked at them both and was satisfied. Those would be their last words on this earth.
No pain was felt. It happened too fast. All was over before they could even scream.
