Prologue

'In the shadows, he prowls, a predator, infinitely waiting.' – Bloodsongs.

*

The night was black, black as the wings of the ravens. The thin crescent was glowing dimly, a thin silver light, that fought with the hands of darkness and failed, miserably.

Aurora Baker stood in a deserted alley, trying to find her way back to wherever she had come from. She had no idea where she came from, though.

All she knew was she shouldn't be here. She should escape the suffocating stench of death that hung in the air and the overwhelming darkness. She turned around and around, trying to find a path with the help of the emaciated moon. If it became any darker than it was now, she'd forever be lost –lost in the inky blackness, never finding the light.

As if someone had heard her thoughts, the half crescent that beamed low switched off. The stars burnt off. The black was thick that Aurora stumbled on nothing.

Sweat dripped down her back, even in the cold. She could feel the fury of the night in her bones.

Heart tumbling down in panic, Aurora turned around. Deep in her bones, she knew she'd forever be lost in this nothingness, where the only noise would be her wheezing breath and her roaring heart if she didn't try hard. She had to try hard. She had to fight this darkness.

Something touched her toes. She jumped back, but the thing followed her, determined. It was cold, icy. A web, slowly weaving around her toes, fingers feet, legs, knees.

What stretched in front of her as a dead, deserted alley was turning into a massive pool of black oily water. The dark bleeding water was slowly mounting. Higher and higher. Stomach, chest. It was glacial, her bones were frozen with fear, throat dry with a scream that wouldn't leave her lips. Neck. She swatted her hands, trying to ward off the water from reaching any higher. It climbed up, dogged, further up. Mouth.

She had to move her body, or she'd die. The water was lapping against her, licking at her with its icy tongue, as if it was feasting on her flesh and her fear.

'I know how to swim. I am the captain of the swimming team. I have won medals.'

Even as she thought it again and again, her legs and hands refused to obey. They were lead. Frozen solid. The swimming she had learnt for so long, since she was three, it was of no use.

All she could do was thrash and turn and struggle. The black water entered her nose, mouth, blinded her vision. Her breathing become laboured and then shallow.

With a sinking heart, Aurora watched herself gulp the cold, cold water. She felt the sting in her lungs. Her blue eyes were dead, and snow pebbled the veins of her eyes.

She put a palm over her mouth as she woke up, tangled in her sheets, drenched in sweat. He fingers were shaking. She wanted to get out of this nightmare, but it was follow her, always, always.

Sometimes she felt like she was trapped in the nightmare, forever screaming to get out. Only her screams had no sounds. It was silent, still. It didn't have any sound.

Aurora rubbed her eyes with a tired frown.

Her eyes were burning and her heart was violently pounding in her chest. She sighed and leaned against the headboard.

"I wish this damn nightmare would stop already."

***

Art Hennessy didn't know why he was running, but there was an urgency in his steps. Thud, thud, thud. The sound was so solid, but the pavement was moving beneath his feet. It was oily, slippery and he didn't give a damn.

He had to reach there... Reach where?

He had to save... Save who?

He had no idea, but the need in his bones was fire, hot, prodding him to quicken his pace. A little bit faster, he needed to be a little bit quicker. His lungs burned from the effort. He couldn't see anything in the dark, but he continued to run. The magic in his fingers felt like it was burning him. He tried to form a spell, but it wasn't working.

The moving pavement started to thrash beneath him. Spurts of water emerged from the broken cracks of the earth, like oozing blood from the wounds. It was slimy, greasy. He waded through the slippery water, but knew he had to swim to reach there. Reach her. He had to swim, or she'd die.

'Who is she?' He muttered to himself as he readied his body to float; he spread his hands, lifted his legs, and started to swim with the same hurry. Water glided past his fingers, his hair, cold and disgusting. Even as he swam, it occurred to him that he had never learnt swimming, never knew swimming and he was afraid of moving bodies of water.

As if the oily waves heard his pounding heart, the waves grew stronger, bigger, closing in on him.

His legs turned rock. His body went limp. He shouted for help, his voice urgent, pleading, and scared.

As he started to go under, he saw a man materializing in front of him. He was shadowed against the black, but his golden eyes burnt like the torch.

"Do you want my help, little boy?" The man's voice was velvet. Soothing.

He was going to die, but even then Art knew, this man's help was not welcome. This man was not his friend, but his enemy.

"No." Art shook his head.

The man laughed, his laughter echoing around Art. "Then die." He lifted his fingers and then with one last laugh disappeared into the mist of darkness.

Water gushed into his mouth, nose. Weighed by the water, Art sunk, down and down.

His green eyes stared in to two blue green orbs. He smiled into those frozen eyes and then there was only darkness.

He sat up, drenched in sweat, like every other night.

***

Azakeal stared at the blue light glowing in his 'Book Of Guardianship' with a frown. He realized that Aurora was dreaming again. She had been having these nightmares since she was thirteen, but it had become more frequent these past month, as if it was premonition to something bad that was going to happen. Something that would be happening.

Azak hated it. Deep in his heart, he knew what was coming, but he didn't want to think about it. He was not made for serious materials like that.

Demon. Devil. Disaster. It was all so big for him. He liked his life free of trouble those words would bring.

"Azakeal?" Castiel called him and he was startled awake from Araina's nightmare. He looked up at Castiel, his violet eyes strangely dull.

"Yes?" He blinked up at Castiel.

"You know you have to do something to help her, right?" Castiel pointed to Azak's book of guardianship. Azak shrugged.

"I don't have to do anything to help her, not really. I just have to watch over her from a distance. That is how every guardian angel works." Azak replied to his best friend Castiel. Castiel shrunk his nose with irritation and Azak ignored it. He had been ignoring Castiel for five hundred years.

"I don't know, but it looks like she might need lots of help." Castiel said with a half shrug as he leaned his head back.

"She is a strong girl. She can take care of herself." Azak said as he unfurled his wings. His beige wings shone in the soft glow of light. "And I am... I don't think it is the kind of job I want to have."

"Why not?" The Voice said from inside his head. Azak slapped his forehead with his palms. He was getting tired of these constant visit from The Voice.

"God?"

"Yes, Azakeal?" The Voice said.

"Why don't you stop it already? You can do it."

"Because... I gave Samael a promise!" The Voice sounded sad.

"And you are going to keep the promise for Satan?! I don't understand this." Azak gave a half shrug as his lips twisted into a frown.

"You don't have to understand it. You just have to accept it." The Voice said, mighty and Powerful, as it could be. Azak bowed automatically. "Just... do what you are supposed to do."

"Yeah, whatever." Azak said with a roll of his eyes. He wasn't good with these cryptic messages from God.

Azak looked at Aurora with a soft sigh.

She was curled in her bed, inside her blanket, like a cocooned caterpillar. Her eyes were drooping, but she was making herself not to go back to sleep. Her face was pale and sweaty. He could feel how scared she was.

Azak closed his wings, sighed and sat down with a deep frown.

It was going to be a long night.

___