Prologue
Massachusetts Bay Colony - Maine Territory
1665
“Where are you going, Trace?”
Trying not to panic, Trace shut the door before any sunlight could spill inside the small cottage. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he turned around and held up the small leather-bound book his father had given him this morning after he’d returned from his trip into town.
“I was hoping to go down to the river to read, Father,” Trace said, forcing a smile that he hoped would convince his father that everything was fine.
Ethan sighed heavily as he sat up on the small cot they shared and ran his fingers through his unruly shoulder-length hair. “Why don’t you stay here and read instead?”
“I don’t want to disturb you, Father,” Trace said, wishing he’d lit a candle since he couldn’t tell from the light the small fire in the hearth was giving off if his father was still angry.
“Trace, tell me that you’re not going to see her after what happened yesterday.”
“No, Father,” he said, lying to his father for the first time in his life, but he didn’t have a choice. If he’d listened to her in the first place, no one would have found out that they’d been spending time together. He’d been too stubborn to listen and now, thanks to him, she was in real trouble.
“Why do I have a feeling that you’re lying to me?” his father asked, sighing wearily as he pulled his breeches on.
“I’m not,” Trace said weakly, shifting his gaze to the dirt floor, because looking his father in his eye while he lied to him made him feel sick to his stomach.
“We need to talk,” his father announced after a short pause, making Trace’s eyes shoot up at the all too familiar announcement.
“But we’ve only been here four weeks, Father. You promised we’d be able to stay longer this time,” he pointed out almost desperately because he didn’t want to leave the only friend he’d ever had.
While living with his father was wonderful, it was also very lonely. For the first fourteen years of his life, his father had taken him all over Europe, desperate to keep him safe as they’d searched for answers. When Trace was six years old, weak, sick, and barely bigger than a toddler, his father became desperate to save the child that his wife had so desperately wanted and did something no other vampire would have dared.
He’d kidnapped a priest who’d sworn allegiance to the Sentinels, the group of altered humans placed on earth to keep humans safe from vampires, demons, and shifters. With one move, his father had signed his own death warrant, but he hadn’t cared. The only thing that mattered to Ethan was keeping the promise he’d made to his wife and protecting their child.
For three weeks, he’d kept the priest prisoner in a cave a mile away from the little tavern where he’d left Trace in the care of a local whore. H
is father had paid her to ignore her customers and focus on his son with the promise of an excruciating death if she’d failed him in any way. Night and day, his father questioned the priest, careful to keep Trace’s existence a secret.
The priest refused to answer. At first, his father had been patient with the old man, hoping to coax the holy man out of the answers he desperately needed. It wasn’t until the whore stumbled into the cave, carrying Trace who’d taken a turn for the worse that his father had lost control. He’d attacked the priest and threatened to turn him if he didn’t tell him what he needed to know so that he could save his son.
The threat worked. The priest quickly explained that children like Trace were not human, something his father had feared since his birth. He’d also explained that Trace was a Pyte, the unnatural product between a vampire and a human woman. He’d explained that a Pyte would remain weak unless he was fed blood along with a human diet and if he ever reached his sixteenth year, he would go into a deep sleep and wake up changed into a true immortal with absolutely no way to kill him. The priest had refused to tell Ethan anything else. Instead, he’d pleaded with Ethan to kill Trace before it was too late.
As Ethan struggled with what the priest told him, the terrified whore pulled out a small dagger from between her breasts and tried to stab Trace through his heart. She would have succeeded if the priest hadn’t screamed for her to do it when she’d hesitated. Ethan lunged for her, taking the dagger in his shoulder and before she could scream for help, he’d ripped her throat out.
Using the dead whore’s dagger, he’d slit her wrist and carefully fed her blood to Trace, praying the priest hadn’t lied to him. For two days straight, his father held vigil over him while the priest prayed for his death. Once Trace managed to open his eyes, his father had been determined to do whatever it took to keep him safe until the day that he would no longer need to worry about him.
Ethan had kept his word to the priest even though he knew by doing so that he was unleashing a world of hell on the two of them, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to hurt a man of God no matter the reason. He’d made the priest promise to give them a day’s start before he alerted the Sentinels. Once the promise had been given, he’d freed the priest, grabbed Trace, and fled. They’d barely made it out of the village before the Sentinels came for them.
From that point on, his father kept Trace hidden from everyone, too afraid that someone would figure out that Trace was the small boy the Sentinel Council was looking for. They’d moved frequently, searching for others like Trace and finding nothing more than rumors and old ghost stories meant to frighten small children into behaving.
No matter how many nests they found, Ethan couldn’t find anyone that had come across another Pyte before. They’d stayed as long as they could, but once a Master caught wind of Trace’s existence, they were forced to run, again. Most Masters viewed him as a potential threat and wanted to kill him, but others wanted to keep him to find out what he could do for them once he hit his immortality.
Once they’d outstayed their welcome in Europe, his father purchased passage for the two of them to the colonies. They’d both instantly fallen in love with New England. Although it was already a well-loved area for many demons and shifters, vampires were reluctant to settle in the colonies since it would have been more difficult to hide what they were. It would have been safer for them to stay in Europe where they could move more freely, but his father hadn’t wanted to take any more chances.
For the past two years, they’d enjoyed a sense of freedom they hadn’t known in Europe. They mostly stayed in small villages, which Trace preferred. When they were in towns like Boston, Trace hadn’t been allowed to leave their room, but here he could go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted as long as he avoided the Packs that sometimes crossed the area.
He’d made a point of going outside every day, enjoying the sunlight on his skin while he still could. In a matter of days, weeks, or months he was supposed to make his transition and then the sun would be lost to him forever. It was the same reason that his father had settled them here even though it meant that he had to travel most of the night to the nearest town to feed.
For years, Trace had been counting down the days until his sixteenth birthday. Once he hit his immortality, which according to that priest should be soon, his father would no longer have to worry about him and could return to Europe where life would be easier for him.
Trace had already decided that he wouldn’t be returning to Europe with his father, not after the warning the priest had given them. Once he underwent his transformation, he was going to move away from everyone and everything. He’d feed on rats if that’s what it took because he refused to be the monster that he was destined to become.