Dark Tales: Book One

Dark Dance

Prologue

.

Tiberiu Bercovitz burst through the rich, dark soil in the middle of Central Park, feeling the night air caress his face. It meant nothing. He felt the sensation, and vaguely remembered that as a boy, it had given him pleasure.

But now it was only a whisp of memory. Like his two older brothers, Sebastian and Rajmund. Like his younger brother, Dimitri.

Like his friends... Julian and Aidan Savage, Marius Valentin, his old friends Radu and Cassius, the twins Stefano and Sonia Dragonseeker... he remembered that Sonia Dragonseeker had disappeared when her aunt, Rhiannon, had as well, and her mother Liliana had been killed. Sonia's uncle, Dominic, and his twin brother David. The seven Corbeau brothers who had been close to the Bercovitzes - Kristoff, Leopold, Carlisle, Donovan, Leander, Theodore, and Edmund. So many friends slipping away... he had no idea what had happened to his older brothers, or Marius, or Stefan. Julian and Aidan had lifemates. Dimitri had his wolves in the icy wastes of Russia. But what did he have? He, Tiberiu?

He had his skills with weapons. He had the form of the great, black swan and the snowy owl to escape into at times. And he had the feeling that he needed to stay, here in this human city, in Central Park, because somewhere in New York was someone who needed his help.

He heard a sharp crack, like a breaking bone, and jerked towards the sound, shifting into the form of the snowy owl without thought and taking flight. He flew straight, towards newer sounds of struggling and a man's muffled cry of pain.

Tiberius shifted back into his true form, tall and broad shouldered and powerful, a dark Carpathian warrior, and was nearly blinded by the shocking crimson of the blood splashing the ground.

Crimson... he could see the color of the blood. Not just the blood, but the young woman on the ground, no older than twenty, in bright blue spandex of all things, kicking with powerful legs at the faces of her attackers. Her right arm was bleeding sluggishly.

In his mind, Tiberius heard her screaming for help, but she did not open her mouth as she kicked and struggled to escape. From her terrified mind, he picked up the fact that they were trying to kill her. Why, he couldn't see, but it didn't matter. Rage filled him at the thought of them hurting her, red rage, just as blindingly scarlet as her blood upon the ground.

Moving too quickly to be perceived, he snapped the necks of the two men, and they sagged to ground. The woman got to her feet, scooping up a pale blue bag with dark blue ballet slippers embroidered on the side. She stared at Tiberiu, who was shocked to see she had golden eyes.

Colors. He was seeing colors. The blue of her clothes and bag, the gold of her eyes, the dark brown like mahagony of her hair... the crimson of her blood from two shallow slash wounds across her collar bone and a deep cut on her arm.

She watched him, terrified out of her mind still, as he approached and held out one hand. Suddenly, he could see her name in her mind. Blanche Cygnet. She had two sisters. She was a dancer. She was frightened almost beyond the breaking point.

His heart ached for her. She looked so young and fragile... she was shaking...

When she collapsed into his arms, he caught her and lifted her to her chest. Quickly scanning her mind, he found the location of her little studio apartment and began to make his way there.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Reviews are awesome. =D