Chapter One

So Now You’re a Dark-Hunter...

What to Do, What Not to Do, and How to Royally Screw It All Up

We’re not the damned, folks, we’re the categorically fucked.

—Urian

Take a deep breath.

Turn out the lights.

The reason you’re having a hard time reading this is because the eyesight of a Dark-Hunter is the first, and possibly the most difficult, thing to adjust to. Birth is hard, especially the second time around. We’ll go in baby steps, all right? Take your time. Are the lights out? Pull the shades, twist the blinds, and put blankets over the curtains.

Sounds insane, I know, but you’re going to have to trust somebody sometime. That guy you met on the way in? That’s Acheron. When the world inevitably goes to hell, he’s one of the only people you will always be able to trust.

I’m one of the other ones.

Now, light a candle. But don’t look straight at it since it’ll only hurt more.

Here, I’ll do the same thing so you don’t feel like you’re the only weirdo in the universe.

Go on, trust me. You may as well. I’ll keep reminding you, so you won’t forget. What else have you got to lose?

See, I know you that well and we’ve barely even met.

So.

You with me?

First lesson: Candlelight and firelight are second only to moonlight when it comes to enhancing a Dark-Hunter’s vision. It makes sense if you think about it—these natural sources of illumination are instruments of the gods. Our Dear Lady Artemis is the goddess of the Moon. You are a product of Artemis’s handiwork, therefore you are able to see better by the light of her totem.

Honestly, come on. Have you ever heard of the god of Neon or the goddess of Fluorescence?

I rest my case.

But what if it’s nighttime? you ask. If I can see better by moonlight, why did I just block up all the windows?

Three reasons.

Three is a significant number among the gods, didn’t you know? Well, you do now.

One: You have to think outside the box for a minute. You can do it.... I’ll give you a couple of seconds just in case you need them.

Humans are creatures of habit and, despite their amazing innate evolutionary ability to adapt to their environment, they are exceptionally averse to change. People notice change, but they aren’t bothered by sameness. Constancy flies under the radar. If you shut up your windows every day and open them wide every night, someone will notice and wonder why. If you just leave them closed—or go so far as to block or board them up—it will be speculated upon and then shrugged off once the guy down the street brings a strange woman home, or the woman next door forgets to wheel her garbage to the curb.

Two: In a perfect world, Dark-Hunters sleep all day and hunt Daimons all night. Of course, if this world were perfect there wouldn’t be any Daimons or Dark-Hunters. Curses wouldn’t exist, the gods would never get angry, we would all love one another, and everything would be rainbows and puppies.

If you’re anything like any of your predecessors, you’re going to work your ass off all hours of the day and night. You will never be able to predict when you’re coming or going—where your next nap or your next meal will be coming from. (Unless you have latent psychic abilities, but for the purposes of this discussion let’s assume you don’t.) I hear from the ancient Greeks that it’s a bit like the army.

Even on cloudy days, daylight is still daylight. There will come a night when you inevitably sleep well past sunrise. That moment, you’ll be thanking me for not having to wake up on fire.

Which brings us to three: about that fire.

I’m assuming you’ve got that candle lit by now. In many ways, that tiny dynamic flicker of energy is the perfect representation of your existence. It can be small, simple, and easy to manipulate. It can be wild, passionate, and unstoppable. It can feed; it can consume. It can save lives just as effortlessly as it can kill.

Above all, its very existence is among the first substantial evidence of the true wrath of the gods.

You know Prometheus, right? (No, I don’t mean personally, you nitwit. Though if you do, tell him I said “Hi” next time you see him. And remind him that he owes me five bucks.)

Consider the candle.

Exhibit A.

Prometheus was a Titan, one of the giants who inhabited the earth before humans. In fact, Prometheus is sometimes credited with making the human race from the earth, in the image of the gods. Perhaps he felt like a father to humans, complete with a sense of protection and obligation. He taught humans the basics of civilization by bringing them fire down from the hearth of Mount Olympus, magic firsthand like none of them had ever witnessed before.

He introduced the world as we know it to... well... the world as it used to be. In his humility, Prometheus took something that only the gods had complete power over, and he did it for the good and the survival and the progression of mankind. Humans stayed warm. They cooked their food. They thrived. They lived. They evolved.

The gods, however, did not see it that way. They didn’t exactly warm to the thought of a more level playing field. They never do. The gods are gods because they are worshipped. A god who is not worshipped loses power. Humans with power begin to question their gods. What Prometheus did for the world not only shook Mount Olympus to its core, it fractured its foundation.

It also doomed Prometheus—who held the secret to how the gods could remain the ultimate power in the universe... but would not tell them.

Zeus, in his rage, chained Prometheus to a rock and left him to the carrion birds. Every day, his liver is eaten out by a vulture; and every night, it grows back again. Over and over and over, until the end of time. Pretty much forever-and-ever. Amen.

Now.

Consider the candle.

It is a testament to what you are—a player in the game set into motion by the wrath of the gods. An immortal being charged with a secret, and the protection of the human race. You are a champion who bears a burden of tremendous responsibility... and tremendous suffering. But don’t lose faith. Just remember: You wouldn’t have been chosen if you weren’t strong enough to handle what you’re about to face.

After all, what doesn’t ki

PRAISE FOR AUTHOR SHERRILYN KENYON
"Kenyon is the reigning queen of the vampire novel."--Barbara Vey, Publishers Weekly