Prologue

Torrey Doone

The stars are beautiful tonight. I reflected, casting keen brown eyes past the treetops and into the sky. The stars hovered just over the earthy woods casting an unearthly light onto the grisly scene before me. There panting and bleeding from the thorns and brambles of the forest lay a man dressed in green robes. His goatee, poorly hiding a weak chin, was tangled and damp. He lay in a small bramble bush, trying hard not to be seen. It wasn't working. Whether or not the man realized it, the heady metallic scent of blood pervaded everything around him, marking him like a bulls-eye to my overly keen sense of smell.
I cast my eyes back to the bush. It shivered as if it could sense my gaze.
Oh you poor, poor man. I reflected again. Your evil shall only make you sweeter. Moving so fast, no mortal could have seen me, I pulled him from the bush with a jerk and raised him to my cold lips. Before he could make a sound, I bit him. My sharp fangs sunk deep as daggers into the jugular vein, bringing sweet blood to my parted lips. I held him, gentle as I lover, taking his essence in great scathing gulps. His mouth opened in a silent scream and his body was paralyzed with pain. His blood was sweet as wine as thick as syrup and coming in great rushes as the vein pumped. His body grew weak and we lowered, and then lay, on the leaf strewn ground.
I removed my fangs from his neck and looked once again to the sky, panting and licking the excess blood from my lips and teeth, my eyes halfway closed. My veins pulsed with false life, and where it was pale as snow before, it now glowed a heady rose; a vulgar parody of healthy looking skin. I was caught up in the ecstasy for a moment before being interrupted by footsteps from behind me. There was another man. His footsteps were loud and his scent strong, but I couldn't see him.
Invisibility cloak. I surmised. Clever, but not good enough to fool me.
I stretched my mind out, feeling every nook and cranny of trees and underbrush. Suddenly I felt him. I snaked my feelings up to the top of the cloak, grabbed a handful, and pulled. It fell to the ground in a liquid heap, taking some of the mans hair with it. He rubbed the top of his head, one hand clutching a wand, and gave me a venomous glare. He was tall and had well manicured platinum blonde hair. He wore long black robes with short sleeves, showing there, on his left arm, the Dark Mark. Huh. A Death Eater. I thought, surprised. This is very unexpected.
"Who are you?" I called. "And what right have you to intrude upon my hunt?"
"My name is Lucius. Lucius Malfoy. I come on my Master's bidding." He said in a cold drawling voice. I chuckled softly.
"Oh! And what does your great Master want of me?" I scoffed. Lucius surveyed the dead eyes corpse beside my feet then looked at me.
"First of all, he'd like to congratulate you on getting rid of Kakaroff. He was getting rather troublesome. Second, he would like to know your name."
"My name is Torrey Doone."
He smiled a little, showing his pointed teeth and stretched his hand out. "Well Torrey, how would you like to join us?"
I sized him up and plunged my mind into his, reading him easily. His mind was as black and malicious and power-hungry as his master. I smiled a little, reveling deliciously in the evil for a few moments more then made my decision.
"That would be just fine."

Ekkaia Johnson

I stared at the masses of people huddled near the airport gates and the windows looking onto the barren tarmac. Some were jovially talking while others sat, like me, waiting boredly for their plane to amble to the gate. A sudden thought struck me and I chuckled softly to myself. I wonder what some of the kids from school would do if they were asked to get on an airplane.
I scanned down to one of the more puzzled looking travelers and smiled. I suspect that's what they would look like, or they would be shouting how brooms are better than these clumsy muggle contraptions. I sighed. I missed them already, and I let my head slide back onto the chair back. Last week was the last week I would see my friends at the Salem Magical Institute. They had thrown a big party for me, and had tried to make it seem fun, but there was nevertheless a bittersweet air. I had to go to England for a medical treatment and I would not be going back to America for various reasons. One of those reasons was my mother, Jean.
I glanced at her as she sat there preening into a small makeup mirror. She had short blonde hair in an old lady style haircut and her facial features were as sharp and cold as her personality with glacier blue eyes and small darting hands. As she preened, I caught a glance of my reflection in the mirror. Jean and I bore no resemblance whatsoever, which was fine in my book, for I wanted nothing to do with her. I resembled my father, Beren, the most. I had midnight black hair and pale skin and glinting gray eyes. I was much taller than most, standing at a height of 1.9 meters with my hair falling down past my waist in its usual braid. My familiar, Freeda, poked her nose out of the pet barge and let out a plaintive meow. I smiled, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a spaghetti flavored cat treat, and placed it between the bars of the cage. Freeda quieted, ate the cat treat, and curled up for another beauty rest.
The stewardess finally called for the passengers to board and Jean quickly stood and gathered her things and I slowly gathered mine. She wouldn't have been in such a hurry has I kept my powers a secret. I thought bitterly.
Jean wasn't always so hateful towards me; she used to be as warm as my father. But ever since my powers had shown themselves that winter day Jean has lived in utter fear and loathing of me.
That day we were ice skating out on our neighbors frozen lake. I was nearly seven and my neighbor's son, who was my close friend at the time, was eight. He and his small sister had separated from the others and were heading away from us on their sled. I was watching and waving at them as they sped away. Suddenly there was a loud crash and their sled disappeared with a splash into the freezing water. I became cold, colder than an ice cube, and I couldn't breathe properly. The only thought that was in my mind was that I must get to the surface, even though I already was on the surface. There was a great blur of thoughts, shapes, and sounds as people flew to where the children fell through. They waited with a horrid silence as the children's father dived through the hole and came up bearing the sled and the girl. But not the boy.
He dived down and came back up bearing bad news. I became dizzy from asphyxiation as the boys mother cried, her sobs echoing in the chill air. Jean finally noticed me and patted me on the back, mistaking my lack of air for grief and shock. Just as it seemed I would faint, I heard something break the surface of the water and I took a huge breath of air. I took a few more huge gulps before I realized how deadly silent everyone was. Even Jean had stopped patting me on the back. There, floating three feet above the surface of the water was the boy. He gasped for air and was blue and shivering, but quite alive. The boy's mother and father, gasping and sobbing, clutched their son tightly and held him for dear life. I smiled, until I met Jeans eyes. They were cold, as if a sheet of frozen steel had passed behind them, and her face was contorted, though with what emotion I couldn't place. She backed away from me and turned toward the mother. Despite my best efforts at conversation, she was silent the entire way home.
If that hadn't been evidence enough of my psychic power, a week later me, Jean, and my father had sat down for breakfast. Jean and I hadn't mentioned anything to my father and it seemed as if the incident had been thankfully forgotten; it had caused a rift between me and my mother all that week. As I laid my spoon down after shoveling some Cheerio's into my mouth I was suddenly smattered in the face with milk.
I squeaked, surprised, and my father chuckled as he wiped off the milk.
"Did you fall asleep in the milk my dear Ekkaia?" he said in a lovingly amused tone. "No." I said, quite puzzled.
My father returned to talking with Jean and I returned to my bowl. I gasped and lifted up my spoon for my parents. The spoon, which was once straight, had been bent into a small spiral. My father had stared at it with an expression of surprise. My mothers face had turned pale with angry red splotches and her eye was twitching involuntarily. My mother burst out in anger about the previous incident at the lake and was forced to tell my father all about it. From that day on, my mother was pitted against me and my father was accepting, and even helpful to me. I took my time in moving to the gate as other streamed around me, crowded and impatient. Jean glanced at me.
"Hurry up, or we'll be too late to get on the plane." She snapped peevishly, despite the fact we had plenty of time. I sped up a little to keep up with her hurried and impatient gait and sighed. Perhaps England wont be so bad.

Adrienne Talbert

I wrapped up the last few chords with several strums of my metallic black lacquered guitar. The denizens of the nightclub cheered boisterously as my band and I took our final bows. As I bent, a black shadow in the far right corner caught my eye. I rose and turned to look there; the shadow was gone. Amid scuffling chairs and idle chatter, I walked toward the dressing room, draping a white towel over my sweaty shoulders. The towel dropped and I bent to pick it up, catching my reflection in the mirror as I stood. Thick, honey blonde waves drooped halfway down my back over the moderately tight black clothes I wore. My pale skin enhanced my eyes, which were never the same color twice, and I towered over the mirror as I stood. I ran my hand through my hair to get it out of my eyes and continued towards my dressing room. Clatters and loud talking occasionally pierced with the loud guffaw came from my band-mates as they held their annual after concert party. I was about to join them when Howard, my agent, took me aside wearing khaki pedal pushers and a red Hawaiian shirt. His grey hair stood up erratically over his wizened and weathered skull.
"Hello Howard."
"Hey! I must say you did great tonight!" he said, his voice barely carrying over the sounds of the party. "It was certainly the best ive ever seen! Uh, not that you haven't played well before, its just that..."
He led me towards the dressing room, prattling on in that manner for a while. I lost attention in it, and then sensed something in the direction of my dressing room. I stretched my mind out to the dressing room, which was now only meters away, and felt the life force of another human along with the disconcerting sense of danger. We reached the dressing room, Howard still prattling on about nothing, and I opened the door and stepped partly in, blocking Howard from entering. I interrupted Howard on a particularly boring speech and excused myself, slipping into my dressing room and shutting the door in his face.
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"Ok, who the hell are you and what the hell are you doi-" I said as I turned and caught sight of the hooded shadow in the corner. It moved toward me and pulled off its hood. There stood a handsome tall man with black, shoulder length hair and pallid features. His hair was greasy and somewhat stringy and his nose was sharp and hooked. He had an unmistakable aura of nervousness about him. His black eyes, which reminded me of tunnels, glanced about the room, taking in all the various decorations and wild costumes and cluttered makeup vanity that I called my dressing room.
"Hello Severus." He nodded curtly and pulled a chair up for me to sit in and a chair for himself.
"I suppose you know why I'm here." His voice was soft and cold and deep with a proper English accent. His voice sent chills down my spine and compelled me to listen to him.
I nodded. "I suppose we will be carrying out our plans?" I reached to my cluttered vanity and picked up my wand, and fiddled with it. It was a 12 inch, yew with phoenix feather and basilisk scale. It had a lightweight iron handle which was cool to the touch. On the base of the wand was a small circular cut black tourmaline gem. It was an altogether unusual combination for wands and the only one of its kind.
It was Severus' turn to nod.
"We'll meet in three days. That should give you enough time to prepare and settle any business. Ill be staying at a nearby wizard hotel, by the name of Sisters of Salem Inn. We're to meet there when we leave. Any questions?"
I shook my head and sighed.
"Lets just hope that our plan works."
Severus nodded once more and raised his wand. He disappeared.