From the mists of time…dark powers arise.
For years, travelers in the French Vosges Mountains heard the wailing of a woman echo in the hollows. Her cries went unbidden. No one was brave enough to seek out the source. Over time, the screams lessened and then stopped. Eventually, even the memories slipped away, forgotten.
Six centuries later, two over-eager research assistants find and release the young half vampire, Chloe—unaware of the events they unwittingly unleash with her.
Far away, other forces are aware of her awakening. Zaccarius, greatest of all the Slayers, is sent by the Council of Nine to seek out Chloe, determine her worth and render justice. Enticed by her purity and innocence, he soon becomes her protector. However, Jochad, the Dark Master, and his army of evil vampires are also eager to claim Chloe.
In the battle that ensues, Zaccarius falls beneath Jochad’s army, and to save her lover, Chloe must make a choice. Ancient and dying, Jochad needs Chloe’s blood to reanimate. His ultimatum—her blood or Zaccarius’ life.
“Be ye here?” she murmured, seeking his presence.
Zaccarius recoiled, startled by the power emanating from the mind of the fledgling, aching as she suffered alone, her abandonment all too clear. She’d sensed him, even though he’d taken great care to mask himself. Untapped and untried, she had no idea who or what she was.
“I canst feel ye,” she whispered. “Show me yer face.”
Stunned, Zaccarius froze, veiling his presence even deeper. That she had felt him was almost unheard of, even among the ancients. He was old and greatly skilled, comfortable lurking in the shadows and silently watching as life's dramas unfolded.
“Why doest ye hide?” she whispered again. “Ye offer no harm. I know it, I do.”
Soft and melodious, her silken voice flowed over him, evoking unwelcomed imaginings. It had been so long since he’d felt anything, so long since he craved a gentle touch. Existence was a never-ending burden of harsh, unforgiving retribution.