Chapter 2

• I had spent close to one hundred years staying away from anything that would draw the attention of others. Which, due to the fact I didn’t age, was not an easy task. Six months ago I’d moved, an unfortunate necessity, done so people didn’t notice that I didn’t age. Since then, staying in the shadows didn’t seem to be working.
• It started when a crazy woman with fantastically bright red hair, and a chaotic array of emotions grabbed me in the club and dragged me out. Since that moment, everyone seemed to be noticing me.
• I thought she was completely bonkers, who wouldn’t be with so many emotions oozing from her every pore, until I discovered what she said was true. Someone did appear to be after me.
• I spent three weeks going to an abandoned fish factory, after painting an x on the wall. Insane, I know, but I did just as she’d told me to do, if I needed help. I went there because the chaotic one had told me her friends could help me, and that they were like me.
• That, as far as I knew, was impossible. Yet she knew my eyes changed to red, and when they did my mouth filled with fangs. If I hadn’t felt the truth seeping from her, I would have walked in the other direction. After many years of believing I was the spawn of Satan, I was too curious to not find out. I needed to know if it was true. Were there others like me?
• When she finally showed up at the factory today, minus the red hair, I thought I’d go meet her friends and see for myself. Of course, I thought the meeting would take place in some out of the way café or concealed location. I did not foresee being zapped, or whatever had just happened, to some room in the blink of an eye.
• Now I stood in an empty, drably beige room, unable to figure out what was going on and feeling nauseous in the worst way. I looked at Crissy, she was closing the lid to the watch thing on her arm that she’d pushed to bring us here. I debated on grabbing it from her and pushing the button, so I could get back home to pack up and move, again.
• A tall man with gorgeous, long black hair that rivaled my own, came running into the room. He slid to a stop and crouched down with his arms out giving me a cautious look, like I might bolt for the door. And go where? I thought.
• “How do you feel? He looked me up and down, his grey eyes filled with worry. “Any pains?
• He had one of those watches like Crissy’s in his hand. Did I want to try to grab it? He was a large man, so maybe not in my current state. I stared at him for a few seconds and then reached for the blade on my back. Closing my hand around the handle, I scowled at him. “I feel… confused…” My stomach lurched again, so I put my other hand over it hoping I didn’t throw up on this stranger. “And I want to throw up.” I backed away from him and watched him carefully. “Where am I? Who are you?” I looked to person responsible for this. “Crissy, what the hell is going on?”
• Crissy blew out a breath and nodded. “I know. Transporting sucks. My stomach still hates it.”
• “Transporting?” I glanced at the man again, then shook my head. “Like beam me up, transporting?” She gave me a blank look, so I looked to the man to see him smirking.
• “No.” He sobered. “Not like that at all.”
• “It’s okay, this is the best place to meet since no one can follow you here.” Crissy tried to reassure me.
• I was debating on giving her friend a few more moments to convince me. That I couldn’t pick up any emotions from his was… unusual, to say the least. I could see emotions going through his eyes as he studied me but couldn’t feel any of them.