By Chrysta Greene

Prologue
Looking into his eyes and thinking, “Surely I know you but yet I can not see clearly enough to foresee the danger that your eyes bring.” I knew that I was connected to him, the way we fit together, the theory of pairs all seemed like a myth surely not something that could ever happen to me. Till I met him.

Crissa Jade’s life is a long on but is on the verge of insanity falling into her
Chapter 1
Once upon a yesterday on a cold October afternoon, I was strolling down Haven & 27th Street dodging vendors & such keeping to the shadows under the awnings. I had felt an odd feeling of being followed. I quickened my pace while a strange yet oddly familiar scent accompanied the wind. I was almost at my destination, when out of nowhere I felt a granite pair of hands grabbed my hips & shove me against a mailbox. But when my reflexes kicked in the scent along with the mysterious being had vanished into the smog-filled air. I thought with a sigh “Maybe my imagination is getting to me again,” trailing off “No one knows.” This time my pace was gradually slower as I took the library steps two at a time just for safety precautions.

I gazed behind me as I leaned against one of the gigantic marble pillars of the Atlanta Public Library and watched lethargically as the passers by had no idea what could happen to them in just a few hours. I watched a mother & her child walk briskly by me into the huge oak doors. Their scent still lingered in the air along with the child’s small but overpowering curiosity. She would have nightmares tonight. I moved towards the door when yet again the granite hands slammed me into the pillar I was just under. A voice came this time “ My dear, do not mistake me when I say to stay here. I know everything. I wish to talk. Stay here, I will know if you leave.” The scent that came with this being was an overbearing aroma that made me quiver, the voice even more tantalizing like a choir of angels coming from something so disturbing. I felt myself wondering what could I have done to bring this on.

I barely did anything in the daylight hours I spent endless time alone and when I did come out I never talked to anyone. No one knew me: not even the ladies I addressed in the library, I gave them a fake name, address and phone number. Like they would ever call anyway I was like a shadow that no one noticed. I listened intently trying to place the voice but I’d never known anything that melodic. But as soon as he was done speaking the figure’s pressure was gone. His heat was still lingering on my back giving me sensations that I could never describe I wasn’t sure if this angel was still watching me or not but I would not press my luck. I eased from my position and bolted to the safety of the rich mahogany doors.

I passed my time trying to calm my frazzled nerves by pacing from bookshelf to bookshelf of the 3 story confines. I went from historic to fiction, often catching glimpses and mere fragments of my scattered memories of my past. I searched for something far older than I but to my un- avail I found nothing. I shook my head at myself I should have known that no library could hold but I pretext to my history. My clan ranged now to only a mere 25 or for I feared maybe less, we the originals. The odd sensations kept coming back now and then. It seemed like I had been in the library for ages instead of just of few hours.

My intentions were but to stay a few hours like my normal routine not that they would care or even notice. I felt the heat on the small of my back my skin seemed to prickle. “Odd” I thought “I never get cold.” My black Levi’s and my conspicuous black tank top barely showing my firm mid-drift. I paced down the narrow corridors while silently pondering about the mysterious figure that had insisted on my staying here. “Why me? What could I have done to him?” these endless questions constantly racking my brain looking for some filling type of answer. The atmosphere in the room dropped it seemed where the hair on my arms stood on end.

I had meandered toward the children’s section; I had to admit the scent was rather enticing. Supple rose-colored cheeks, the fragrances of the mothers perfume the child would more or less wear when she grew older. If she made it that far… My views on the human race were sympathetic, how fragile and sickly they looked when the mere flick of a wrist and their lives would end. I the kind one of my race, but not above the temptation at times just needed the right provocation. The temperature dropped another degree; my flesh seemed to contract toward the still blood that rested in my veins seeking the warmth that they knew I once had. I paused at an inaudible ruffle of fabric against fabric.

I turned only to find a black leather trench coat balancing itself neatly on the highest bookshelf. With a quizzical glance I cautiously came forward to brush my fingertips lightly against the smooth texture. I figured that it was probably meant to be there for me. “Odd” I thought “Chivalry’s been dead ages. Hmm-same scent, same sensations: strange.” I took the jacket and slid it over my arms, it matched the contours of my body perfectly it seemed. To my unexpected astonishment a sensation of warmth and emotion flooded thru my body. Making me abruptly light-headed I rested my hand on a lower column of books.