Abi Black

For all of "my people", the wonderful friends

that inspired me.

Foreword

True Sight. I had never given it much thought before. It had always been present in my life, and it was something that I had gradually come to accept. I saw it as something that set me apart from others; something that made me special. I saw it as something that would keep me distant from other people but then I had always been more of a loner. I saw it as something that would keep me sharper, more aware of the things around me than most. I saw it as many things. But never before had I seen it as a danger, something that put my life in peril. I see now how wrong I was.

I

My heart was racing. There he was again. Tall and brooding, his dark hair blown back with the wind, startlingly blue eyes sweeping across the crowd, searching. Seeking me.

I hunched down, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. I should have known. There was no hiding from him. From them. My steps quickened, until I was racing through the streets, cutting corners and ducking into alleys. Too late. His terribly knowing eyes latched onto mine, and he pushed through the crowd with impossible speed.

I ran faster, darting in front of a car just as the red light turned to green. The driver swerved, shaking his fist and screeching curses I could hardly hear. The pounding of my own heart drowned out everything else.

My foot caught a crack in the sidewalk, and as I tripped, regained my balance I chanced a look behind me. I wished I hadn't. He was closing in. Instead of going across the street, as any normal human would have done, his impatience got the better of him and he leaped, vaulting over the top of the thickly clustered traffic. Typical.

The dreams had been clear: Stay away from New York. But when my great aunt Lydia had called with the news; my ninety-seven year old grandmother was dying, I didn't have the heart to tell my dad no, we couldn't go and spend the last few days of his mother's life with her because I was scared of a couple dreams. And now I was about to die.

I ducked into the doors of the nearby museum. He would never get past the metal detectors, and although I knew it wouldn't stop him for long, I had gained precious time. I figured I had about seventy-five seconds. I glanced behind me. Not getting attacked as soon as I set foot in New York had made me cocky. Sixty seconds. At the most.

I slipped into the nearest elevator just as the doors closed. Fifty-four

seconds. I dashed out onto the third floor, mumbling hasty apologies to the elderly couple I'd just slammed into and the librarian lady I'd knocked over. They still looked outraged, but then that wasn't important seeing as I was running for my life. Thirty seconds. I realized that, in my haste I'd hit the wrong button. This was the fourth and last floor. Twenty-six seconds. Not enough time.

"Wait!" I heard him cry out from behind me. Wait? What kind of idiot did he think I was?

Without a second thought, I threw myself over the railing of the huge winding staircase. I fell for an exhilarating forty-seven feet before landing perfectly balanced on a giant globe suspended from the first floor ceiling and sliding down. I hardly noticed that people had stopped everything to stare at me, some gaping, some pointing and whispering urgently, a few even taking pictures. Seventeen seconds.

I yanked the foor to the emergency exit open, flew out the back of the museum into the fresh air, slammed into a cop on lunch break for good measure, and was in the front door of my tiny apartment complex at exactly zero seconds.

"Mom! Home from school!" I took the stairs two at a time, slamming my bedroom door and throwing myself backwards onto the crisp linen sheets of my twin bed. I'd made it out. Not bad, if I do say so myself.

My name is Morgan Leigh Sacoyan. I'm fourteen years old, almost fifteen, five foot six, both an animal lover and a hunter, and I have True Sight.

True Sight enables me to see things that others can't. What regular mortals don't know is that there are…things out there. Mythical creatures, if you will. Faeries, dragons, gryphons, elves, nature spirits, and shadowbeasts. And I am one of the very few people who can see right through the magical disguises they create for themselves, who can see them for what they really are.

True Sight. It was something that had always been present in my life, and it was something that I had gradually come to accept. I saw it as something that set me apart from others; something that made me special. I saw it as something that would keep me distant from other people but then I had always been more of a loner. I saw it as something that would keep me sharper, more aware of the things around me than most. I saw it as many things. But never before had I seen it as a danger, something that put my life in peril. I see now how wrong I was.

There are hunters out there. Not the kind that hunt animals. The hunters that hunt…Us. These hunters find people like me, people that have True Sight and other powers that go along with, like my dreams of the future. They hunt us down and try to capture us and use us. They want us to help them find mythical creatures so they can use them for their own selfish needs.

If it weren't for my godfather John, who also happens to have True Sight, they would have gotten me already. He warned me about them and taught me secrets. How to use magic, how to fight the Hunters, and how to communicate with the mythical creatures.

The blue-eyed boy had began stalking me about a week ago. The night before last Friday, I dreamed about him. My friend Ariel, who also has True Sight, had begun dreaming about him months before, but she had never actually seen him. The morning after my dream, I had woken early and decided to take a walk in the woods, to settle my thoughts. That's when I saw him. Well, part of him. I felt him watching me. I whirled around and all I saw was his electric blue, catlike eyes, glowing in the dawn shadows. They blinked once and he was gone.

That was the last I saw of him for next few days, but I could still feel him watching me. All the time. Then, when we came to New York, I saw him, all of him, for the first time. He was crouching on the ledge of a huge building, white cloak billowing out behind him. He seemed to be concentrating fiercely on something in the distance. I didn't stick around to find out why.