PROLOGUE

Running into a Strigoi, I knew during the heat of battle was one thing. Purposely hunting down someone…someone I loved. Well, I didn't know if I could do that, even if it was technically the right thing to do.

And yet here I was, attempting to hitchhike my way to Missoula by using the feminine charms I had inherited from my mother to do just that. I had walked for five miles through the thick of the forest before finding myself at the edge of the highway. As soon as my feet touched the gravel adjacent to the road, a truck slowed and came to a halt a few feet in front of me. That was fast. The window on the passenger's side wound down and the guy behind the wheel leaned over and looked out of the window. "You need a ride, suga?"

I did need a ride; the cold was beginning to seep through the layers of clothing. Sure it may have been bordering on spring time but walking a couple of hours through an isolated forest was enough to cool even my blood "You headed anywhere near Missoula?" I asked.

"Driving right through," He responded and grinned down at me.

I nodded and pulled open the passengers door, hoping up and into the truck. I closed the door behind me and took shivered with pleasure as a gust of heat from the air vent pressed against my exposed skin.

"I'm Larry…"

I turned and looked at him. His hair was dark and messy, he sported a five o'clock shadow and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. "Rose."

"So," He started the truck and pulled away from the side of the road, where he had stopped to pick me up. "What's your story?"

"I don't have one," I sighed looking out of the window, staring absent-mindedly at the darkening sky.

"I doubt that," I could feel his eyes on me as a throaty laugh escape his lips.

"Look, "I turned and looked at him just as he turned his attention back to the road disappearing beneath our feet. "I don't mean to be rude especially as you were so kind in stopping for me…" I paused and frowned, "But I'm not interested in your story and you'd be less interested in mine. And I'd really appreciate it if you could continue driving with your eyes firmly fixed on the road and not mind screwing me." I turned back and waited, expectantly for him to pull over and kick my ass out. Instead I was surprised when he laughed again.

"Jeez, girl…" He continued laughing. "You're a prickly little thing, aren't ya!"

He stopped with the questions directed at me and instead began to ramble on about himself. Apparently he was thirty eight though if he would have asked me to guess his age, I would have guessed older. He had been married twice, the first time to his high school sweetheart. They had been married three years when she had upped and left him for the milkman. He had met his second wife while visiting Thailand, according to him it had been love at first sight. They had been married less than three months when she had upped and left him for the mailman.

I closed my eyes and tuned out of his mindless chatter and decided to catch up on some beauty sleep while I still could. Only instead of a peaceful slumber, I found myself confronted with a pair of blood red, angry Strigoi eyes.

My eyes opened automatically and my mind began to work overtime to banish that image from my head. It was still far too early to think of him in that way; cold, evil and dead.

"How far is the airport from the city center?" I asked, turning my attention back to Larry, the truck driver. I needed to distract myself from thinking of him like that and what was a better distraction than planning 'the how to kill a former lover'.

It usually took a little over three hours to reach Missoula from the academy, however driving at a steady speed of fifty miles per hour and stopping every half hour so Larry could fill the tank with gas, or have a coffee, or take a leak, meant that the journey had taken a little under six hours. Not that I was complaining, the sun had began to rise over the Montana mountains during the drive which meant that upon arrival into the city center, the ordinary world would be awake.

Larry graciously dropped me off in the city center; going out of his way to put me right outside of the Missoula bank Adrian had told me to go to.

"Thank you," I hopped out of the warm truck, closed the door behind me and was immediately greeted with an icy blast. Earlier this evening I had felt the springtime warmth radiating from the setting sun but that luxury had abandoned me as soon as I had stepped foot outside of the Academy's protective walls. I pulled my jacket closer and swung the bag which contained my world belongings over my shoulder.

I pulled on the double doors and stepped inside, immersing myself with the suits.

"Can I help you?"

I turned and looked at the woman who was offering me assistance. She was easily thirty, dark brown hair, made up face and dressed for business. The only thing that screamed unprofessional from her was the quick once over she gave me, a disparaging glare touching her eyes for briefest of moments.

"I'm here to finalise an account," I tried to imitate how the Royal Moroi talked down to they everyday Moroi. "It's under Ivashkov," I added hoping to see a touch of recognition in her face. And I did.

Her smile widened causing the crow lines at the side of her eyes to become more pronounced. "Certainly, if you would like to follow me," And she was suddenly acting as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

I followed her to a corner office. She tapped on the glass door three times, before turning the handle and opening it. "Mr Miller, excuse the intrusion," Better wouldn't melt in her mouth, I thought again. "But there is a young lady here to finalise an account under Ivashkov."

"Thank you Louise, please send her in."

Louise turned and actually had the nerve to smile at me. Bitch. I didn't wait for her to indicate for me to enter the office, instead I sidestepped her, walked inside and closed the door in her face. "You really need to re-evaluate the kind of staff you have working here," I spoke out of place and set my bag down on the floor.

"Excuse me?" The grey haired man behind the desk looked at me through his glasses, confused.

"Never mind," I shrugged off my encounter with Louise and sat down on the chair opposite him. "I'm Rose Hathaway." I hoped that was all I had needed to say.

"Ah, yes, of course." He pulled back from his desk and stood, walking across the room to one of the large filing cabinets. He opened it and flicked through the files inside before pulling one out. "My name is Marcus Miller," He turned and walked back to his desk, sitting back down in his chair. "I deal exclusively with the Ivashkov account and was informed two days ago that a Miss Rosemarie Hathaway would be in need of an account setup under the Ivashkov account."

I nodded as he opened the file and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it across the desk towards me. "An account has been setup in your name and a credit limit of fifteen thousand dollars has been accredited to your account." He continued looking down at the piece of paper before him, as my mouth dropped silently and performed a perfect O shape.

"I'm sorry, how much?" I asked confused.

"Fifteen thousand dollars," He glanced up from the papers and continued. "All we need to finalise the account is a copy of your passport and a signature."

I sat there, mouth still hanging open as though I were trying to catch non-existent flies. I knew that Adrian and his family like all other Royal Moroi, were well off but I had no idea as to the extent.

I reached inside of my jacket and pulled out my passport along with a wad of cash which Adrian had given me before I had left the academy.

Money couldn't buy you happiness or love but fifteen thousand dollars was sure as hell going to buy me a lot of things.

At the airport I booked myself on a connecting flight to Siberia which had instantly set me back two thousand dollars. Okay so maybe fifteen thousand dollars was going to buy me a couple of things.

I had some time to kill before my flight, so I ended up shopping in duty free. Upon leaving the academy I had forgotten to pack a few essentials items such as a toothbrush. Not that oral hygiene really mattered when on the hunt; it's not like he was going to take time out of ripping my throat out to tell me I was letting myself go. Though for the sake of others I decided that it would have probably been in their best interest and mine to keep up appearances, I was trying to remain anonymous and it was easier to maintain anonymity through standard cleanliness.

I made my way to the ladies bathroom and quickly assessed my appearance. My hair was dishevelled, my eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, my lips were chapped from the cold weather not to mention the huge red spot growing at the side of my mouth. Yes, I sighed, sarcastically as I washed my face with warm water…this is exactly how I was Dimitri's mother to meet me. Ha, I could just picture it now. "Hi, I'm your son's former student and lover and I'm here to kill him." That would really go down well…

I stared in the mirror and sighed, taking in my saddened appearance.

------

My eyes opened reluctantly and I found myself not only being brought back to the present, two months and fifteen days later but I had also found myself staring into a pair of angry, blood thirsty crimson eyes.

"I'm here to kill him?" She asked as she tilted her head and examined me carefully. "What's the matter, Rose?" She grinned wickedly, "Not so talkative now are ya?" She sighed dejected at my reluctance to respond. "It's such a shame you won't be able to witness the downfall of your precious academy and all of it's students." Turning in her black knee high boots she walked across the hard concrete floor away from me. A few moments later, she returned with a large mirror in hand, "Wanna take a look at how pretty I've made you?" She asked thrusting the mirror in front of my face.

There was a large black bruise forming under the skin of my left eye, right next to a healing cut. My lips were swollen from the pummelling I had been subjected to for the past three hours and my hair was matted with drying blood.

"Aren't you pretty!" She giggled, peering from behind the mirror at me.

"I am…" I conceded before continuing, "Though not as pretty as Harley…" I responded and tilted my head, glaring in her direction. "She looked drop dead gorgeous on the end of my silver stake." And now it was my turn to smirk at her. I added a cruel laugh to invoke a response.

And it worked. The mirror dropped from her hands and she launched herself at me. As her body impacted heavily onto mine it caused the wooden chair I was tied to, to give way. Apparently love between Strigoi wasn't uncommon, a little knowledge which had been useful in hunting over the past two months.

She gripped a handful of my hair and pulled on it as she snarled in my face, "Shut your mouth." She used her grip on my hair to lift my head from the floor only to smack it back down a moment later.

Ow.

She released the grip on my hair and pulled her hand back to examine the blood on her finger tips, my blood. Lifting her hand to her face, she closed her eyes and licked her fingers slowly, a gentle moan of pleasure escaping her lips.

"Its such a shame, "I said using her words against her. "That you wont be able to witness the downfall of your precious little friends."

That caught her attention. She opened her eyes and beamed down at me, "The downfall of my precious friends?" She questioned, "And who exactly is going to be the one doing all of the destroying?"

"Me." Before she knew what I was doing, I wrapped my legs around her waist and spun us over, so that I was now straddling her. I bent down and head butted her twice before standing on my feet. I lifted my foot and pressed it down on her chest, stopping her from moving. "When the day becomes night we shall make our move. When the day becomes night," I continued staring down at her horrified expression. "They will turn or die."

"How did you-"

I cut her off. "You guys think you're the end? I've got news for you, I'm the fricken Armageddon, bitch!"

"He'll be there…" Escaped her lips before my Moroi magic wielded four inch heel pierced through layers of skin and flesh to stab her non beating heart.