Prelude"Rayan," a gentle voice carried across the room, finding uncaring ears. "Please," Kate sighed. "It is not what you think. I was not there to see anyone." Her smile retreated for only a second. "I went to see my mother," her eyes sparkled, "to tell her the news." She paused, running her hand along her side before stepping closer to the thick wooden table. A slow distant look came over her eyes recalling the violent stomach she had been nursing. "I have not felt well so I went to see the healer this morning." Kate glanced over her shoulder to the man who was now pacing several feet away. "She gave me wonderful news, and while I was in town, I stopped to see mom."Pouring a glass of mead, she held it to her chest surveying the table. The clutter that had once lined the edges had been cleaned up and three plates had been set in prep for the dinner and news to come. Catching the center vase which now held freshly picked Gerber Daisies; she leaned forward to remove a yellow one. H

1986 September 1 I started this journal to understand what was happening to me. I have friends who are odd characters, but I don’t pay their odd quirks any attention. After all, each of us, has our own troubles. But what I found out about them I am not ready for. My friends, or should I say my family more than friends, are different. They were once the protectors of all of humanity, they were the greatest beings this planet could offer, but as men go, we often hunt for what we do not understand. We did not understand them. They have always been among us, the wolfin; they will always be among us, watching from the twilight. I'm not sure if this log will help any of us, but I must tell someone, even if it is just this page. The city is changing and so are we. We are being hunted, again. But this time it is different, this time it is one of us, who is doing the hunting. About three weeks ago, the slayings started. It was simple at first; there was no real pattern to the killings.

As the light from the lone candle faded, Jimmy was aware of someone standing with him. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting the voice from the journal to greet him. To his surprise, it was Natalia. He sat there, unsure what to say to his wife. "How did you know to find me here?" Finally his voice broke the awkward silence. The tall woman walked forward laying a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "I'm your wife and your partner; I always know where you go." She smiled. “I called BJ and she told me you were here.” She glanced over the room and then back to him. "It has been many years since I came here." She looked up seeing ghosts that weren't there. "Why did you come here, Jimmy?" "I was checking on a stolen car when I stumbled across this house. I also found out an officer on the force had a case dealing with this place, so I decided to check it out. But, somehow, I get the impression you already know the case, and you know what happened to everyone who lived here."

Yada woke up with the worst headache she had ever known. She could tell she was face down, and from the smells flooding her senses, she was in some heap of trash. Lifting her body in weak arms, she could vaguely see through the darkness, although she could hear men fighting. The noise became louder and louder.She rolled over to look up to the stars; it was still night or early morning gauged from the skyline's color. She sat up letting the wall hold her weight. Those voices she had heard moments before seemed to become more heated and drew her attention. She glanced to her left only to see the silhouette of a man growing into a large creature. The scream followed by a roar forced Yada to pull back into a small ball. The sound of thick footfalls coming her way alerted her that she was not alone. She shifted her weight only enough to pull back from the alleyway into a shadow. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes. The sound of her heart became louder. The thudding came closer an

Yada awoke on the beach in a makeshift shanty. She looked around the room disoriented. Her eyes focused on the door and then she remembered this was where she lived when she was a younger teen. This was the home she and Amos had made a few years before. Yada was nine years old when she woke up for the first time in this place. There had been a kid with her, both had been covered in blood, and both had no clue who they were or who the other was.Yada sat up slowly and tried to recall just how she got here this time. Had she been on the streets smoking some new drug? Had she simply walked off in a haze and ended up here? "Note to self, never smoke that shit again," she said to no one.She stood up feeling like she had been beaten. Her head and neck hurt, and her right knuckles were purple as though she had been fighting. There was a small cut on the inside of her wrist. "What the hell did I do last night?" She walked from the beach uncertain."Hey Carl," she called out as sh