Prologue

Prologue

Antoinette Duval stepped out of Nightbirds, the club in Chattanooga where she worked as a dancer. It was late at night, a summer rain misted down and turned the deserted street slick and shiny, raising goosebumps on her bare arms. A car cruised past and a beer can flew out of the window, splashing in a puddle nearby, then a man’s voice shouted something crude. Antoinette turned and began walking rapidly down the street toward her apartment.

She was tired. She knew it was affecting her dancing but the thought of sleep terrified her. Her nightmares had begun again–chaotic dreams full of half-remembered images of violence, hunting and death. They were frightening and much more powerful than ordinary dreams but they faded rapidly on waking, leaving her haunted and confused. They mean something, she thought, but what?

Several times she had awakened naked in an abandoned warehouse. How did I get here? What is happening to me, she wondered fearfully. She would wait until late at night to make her way cautiously back to her apartment. Once she woke with a Doberman, half-eaten, lying beside her and the taste of blood in her mouth. She had gagged and backed away, then hid and waited for nightfall, sick, bewildered and terrified.

One night last week as she was walking home from the Nightbirds, two thugs had approached her. Antoinette had recognized the intent and menace in their faces and fear had risen in her. Ah, mon Dieu, not again, she thought, then a red madness filled her mind. She had regained awareness, naked, in her room next morning. She had not been raped, but all she could remember was one man flying backward. Away from her talons, she recalled, but what talons are these? None of this makes any sense. She shivered with dread, hugging herself.

She continued walking along the dark street, shoulders slumped. I can not take much more of this, she thought.

Carl Royden, she remembered suddenly. Last fall, he promised to help me if ever I needed it. I wonder if he can do anything for me. Madness, possession, the beast within. I cannot conquer this by myself. I will phone Carl in the morning.

Or perhaps I will phone him tonight. God knows, my need is great enough. Antoinette walked faster, eager to get to the phone in the lobby of her apartment building.

As she passed the mouth of a dark alley, a hungry darkness slithered into her mind. An alien intelligence seized control of her mind and began cutting her will off from her body. Terrified, she fought against the invading presence, but her struggles were useless. It mastered her with a greedy hunger, flowing through her nerves and taking control of her muscles. Come to me, it said, a hunter confident of its prey.

She turned down the alley, trying to stop, to turn back, but could not. She stumbled onward against her will, tripping over rubbish and clutter, then falling full-length, unable to protect herself as the concrete rose to meet her. After a moment she staggered back to her feet and shuffled on. Terror clutched at her heart. When she reached the black van parked in the darkness, she mechanically climbed inside.

A man in the back, wearing some sort of helmet, glanced up. “Got her. Let’s go.” Another man grabbed her and threw her to the floor, binding her wrists and ankles. Tires squealed as the van sped off.