Prologue

You and I have never met. I can promise you this with utmost assurance, for if we had brushed paths, you would not recall the experience or would not have lived to make it this far, sitting in your favorite chair with this book in your hands, the perfect picture of ease and comfort. As such, allow me to introduce myself to you.

My name is Peter Dawes and I am a vampire.

The admission must stir a response. After all, how many times do you have somebody tell you that in such a candid and lucid manner? If you gazed upon me, it might make sense, and as we spoke, you would realize something was different about the man seated before you. The black suit hanging from his slender frame would provide a stark contrast against the pale complexion. His mouth would move in conversation without revealing much in the way of teeth and as he spoke, you would notice the formal way he conversed, almost like a man out of place in time.

My apologies for that in advance, by the way. Old habits die hard and after years spent given over to the notion that we immortals – we decadent sophisticates – must sound like relics straight out of the previous century, I have not been able to rid myself of the mannerism.

That is not why I chose to set pen to paper and regale you my story, however.

I could spend hours on the nuances of life as a vampire – the social structure, habits, and what not. Rather than bore you with such a thing, I must confess I started this endeavor with one sole purpose in mind – to tell you a story; my story. Horribly pretentious of me, is it not? But I assure you, I am no ordinary vampire. Granted, I still feed as one. I possess the fangs, the will and instinct of one. The casual observer misses something very important when it comes to me, though, a very crucial feature underneath the short, light brown hair and above the crooked smile.

Do not fret, though. Most people do not know what they should be looking for when they see me. Not many of your kind recognize the emerald green eyes or know of their relevance and for very good reason, unique creatures such as I do not wish you to know. There exists an entire world underneath your noses that you overlook every day and only when the supernatural world falls onto your lap do you know of its presence. I was much the same as you a few decades ago, an unsuspecting, unknowing mortal with pale blue eyes instead of the ethereal irises I now possess.

It seems I have lived so many lives in my still short tenor on Earth.

Such is why I made this very brash decision. Somebody has to know the truth.

I have held many titles and been several people and several things already. There were years when I gazed at you with compassion latent in my stare and years when I beheld you with coldness before sending you packing to the by-and-by. Saint and sinner; bastard, friend, and foe. So many lives lived with an eternity lying in wait for many more to emerge. I’ll not linger any longer on riddles, suffice to say there are many layers to this creature who walks in your midst and yet, you rarely cast a second glance his way.

My name is Peter Dawes and this is my story.

It all started with a murder.

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