It's never easy being the weird kid.

The one that's different. Quirky. Doesn't make friends easily. Distant. An over-active imagination.

It's hard to explain why you're scared to go out after dark. Why shadows freak you out.

It's not easy when your body burns and betrays you and because no one can explain it, and when you can see in their eyes that they think you're making it all up for attention, you start to keep it to yourself.

That's when you know you're alone.

Secrets have a nasty habit of doing that. They push you onto the fringes of everything and everyone. Separate you from those that you love. Make you believe you are nothing. That no one will help you.

No one ever helped me.

I walked numbly over to one of the chairs seated in front of the desk and fell into it, bombarded by memories of her – my mother. Of all the times I tried to tell her, and she brushed it aside. Of all the times I tried to explain it, even when I didn't understand it myself, and she stroked my hair and said I read too many books.

And yet, she had known. She had always known.

'Why didn't she ever say anything?' I whispered. 'Why didn't she tell me what was happening to me?'

Marcus crouched in front of me, moving as if to put his hand over mine before instinctively knowing he couldn't. 'Because she was trying to keep you safe, just as I asked her to do.'

'Keep me safe?' I said, staring at him incredulously. 'I was just a kid. I was terrified. I thought there was something wrong with me. When she didn't listen, I had no choice but to try and deal with it on my own. I was a child, and I was on my own.'

Marcus shook his head, adamant. 'You were never on your own.'

'I was. She could have said something. She could have at least told me I wasn't crazy, that there was a reason for what I was feeling. But she didn't, so yes, I was on my own.' I felt sick thinking about it. All it would have taken was one word of acknowledgement. Just one sign to know she understood and that it was okay.

'Sarah, please, believe me, it was not your mother's fault. I asked her not to tell you. I thought that if I kept this world from you, then you would be safe.'

Anger bit back hard. 'By denying what I was?'

'By shielding you from it,' Marcus replied. 'It might never have seemed that way, but I was trying to protect you from everything. From vampires. From the Church. From everyone who would have ripped you from your life. I might not have been there. You might never have seen me. But, for fifteen years, I kept you both safe. I kept your existence a secret, and after that, when your mother...' He exhaled shakily. 'When she died, I knew I had to keep Dominique's attention diverted away from you. I could not risk her finding out that your mother and I had a child, let alone that she would discover you were a Sensor. Her jealousy, her obsession, had no limits.'

Standing, he leant back against the edge of the desk, not moving away from where I sat. I wasn't sure whether I found that comforting or disturbing.

'I was lord and master of my own media empire,' he continued. 'I had spent years at the forefront of telling stories, reporting news, even reporting misinformation. That is how it works. You lay a crumb, you wait for Hansel and Gretel to follow, and you lay another, and then another, until they are so wildly off course, they cannot simply just find their way back to the truth. And that is what I did. Finally, all that wealth, all that power, could be used for something meaningful. I could save you.'

'Ever think about just having her killed and donating most of it to charity?' I said, as he looked sharply at me. 'That would have been meaningful. Instead, you staged your own disappearance and led her on a wild goose chase, is that what you're saying? And I know you say she was obsessed, but really? You honestly thought you could keep her that occupied?'

Marcus frowned. 'Have her killed? Dominique became an Elder and you don't just kill an Elder and go on with your life as if nothing happened. There are rules. Ancient rules. And you would have still ended up dead. The plan was that I was to disappear, and I would use my news outlets to lead her down so many paths that she would never find me, and from beyond the grave, I could continue to try and protect you. As for keeping her occupied, of that I had no doubt. I took something from her, something she deemed most precious, and I knew she would do anything to get it back.'

'You stole from her? What did you steal?'

Marcus gave a small, sad smile, one that contained too many memories, too many ghosts. 'It is no matter. It does not have to concern you. But it had the desired intention, as I knew it would. Her focus was entirely on finding me.'

I stared at him. 'She doesn't believe you're dead, does she?'

'I have no idea what she believes.' He shrugged and raked his fingers through his hair. 'Of course, it is always important to never underestimate a predator. You know, they say the wolf will chase its prey over long distances, covering many miles if it must, to find the right opportunity when to attack. All my resources, all my wealth, and I truly had no idea what Dominique and the Council were planning. I believed you were safe. No one had come near you, not even after your mother died. I had no idea they even knew you existed, let alone had placed you at the centre of this mad prophecy spewed out in the final ramblings of an old priest.'

'You don't believe in the prophecy?'

Marcus gave a wry grin. 'Oh, I believe in the prophecy. It exists, after all. What I don't believe in, is the part you must play in it. You see, prophecies rarely make any sense and are far too open to interpretation. The simple act of translation itself means there is no certainty that what you read after the passing of time is what the prophet intended. As for this particular Augustine Codex, it was fragmented, broken apart and those pieces transported across the globe, whether by accident or intent, we will never know, but what I do know is that both interested parties – meaning the Church and the Vampire Council – have their own interpretation of the prophecy, that of course contradicts the other. They are reading the same text, but the outcome they believe in, is not the same.'

He sighed, glancing across to the CCTV monitor. 'And then, of course, there are the trueborns to consider. Where do they fit into all of this? The Council learned of you, I could not say, but they forced you to make the first move. They rolled the dice; they controlled the board. They took the girl who had been shielded from her natural instincts for her whole life and placed you in an impossible situation with the predatory vampire, Luther Baines, who himself was already driven half-mad with his obsession about the Codex. It was kill or be killed, yes? They were testing you, and once they had decided you were the one, they sent the Cerberean after you. Of course, they didn't know that a trueborn would intercept their mission.' His face twisted bitterly.

I looked at the monitor over Marcus' shoulder. 'What's your problem with Michael? He saved me. I'd be bled dry by your ex-girlfriend by now if it wasn't for him. And yet you're trying to tell me now that he was hunting me? That I'm in danger from him?'

A strange sense of sadness passed over Marcus' expression then, a hint of something I didn't expect to see, and I recoiled from the pity I saw in his eyes.

'Why are you looking at me like that?'

'Because I hate that you are a pawn in a game where you do not even understand the stakes nor who the players are. You think you know this man because he swept in at just the right time to save you from the Council's army? A strange coincidence, don't you think? The same man who led you straight into the web of Sébastien Dufort and who would now freely hand you over to the self-appointed Guardian of the Codex himself, William Jonson?'

On the screen, Michael had stopped pacing and was crouched against the wall, in the same place he'd been when he'd shown me just what had happened in his dreams. I blinked, wishing I couldn't still feel the warmth of his mouth upon mine, and looked back at Marcus.

'You know of William Jonson? How? Michael didn't even know about him until Montague told us. By the way, what did you do with Montague?'

Marcus waved off my concern. 'Oh, Montague is quite safe at his home and will not be bothered again, trust me on that. And rest assured, he will have done his duty by now, just the same as he has done all these years.'

'Which is what exactly?'

'Protect the secret of the trueborns. Protect his love, William Jonson, and his mission. And yes, I do know of him. In fact, I know far more than he would care me to.' When he saw my look of surprise, he grew serious, a darkness glinting in his eyes. 'Do you really think I would not know about everyone linked to this damn prophecy when it involves my own daughter? I did not risk everything to be ignorant of all the facts. I'm intrigued though, what did Michael Quinn tell you of the trueborns?'

I shifted uncomfortably on the chair. It felt wrong somehow to share our conversations with Marcus. It felt wrong to share them with anyone. But Marcus' comments had my curiosity piqued. I hadn't much liked the sound of William Jonson when Montague had told us of how William had lured him in and then deserted him when Montague had wanted to return home.

But Michael wasn't William Jonson. He'd never deserted me. Sure, he'd broken into my home and terrified the life out of me, but since then, he'd stuck with me, even when my actions had put us in danger.

'I know they have powers – incredible powers.' I thought of Michael then, climbing the walls like he was a spider. I thought of Bailey and, well, whatever the Hell it was she could do. 'I know they are a rare breed of vampire, so rare in fact that the Council want to get their hands on trueborns to, I don't know, somehow harness their powers for themselves. And I know that Michael has been searching most of his life to find others like him. But apart from that, I don't think he knows much more.'

Marcus looked steadily at me, clearly unconvinced.

'I'm guessing you know far more than we do then?'

'We?' Marcus said.

The heart rose to my cheeks. 'Well, yeah, Michael and I.'

'So, you are... what? Together now, you and this trueborn? Do you really think this man is the right choice?'

I laughed, shaking my head at him. 'You honestly think you can come into my life now, at my age, and tell me who I can and can't be friends with.'

'It's a little more than friends from what I could see.'

I was pretty sure my face was flame red by then. 'What it is or isn't is none of your business. You know, I would love to say that you lost the right to comment on my life choices a long time ago, but the fact is, Marcus, you never earned the right in the first place.'

Marcus grasped my hand then. My curse surged over my knuckles, and I was jolted by it, but didn't pull away. Neither did he.

'Then let me earn it, Sarah,' he urged. 'Whatever you think about what I did when you were born, let me earn it now. Let me recompense for the years I got it so very wrong. There is no game here with me. I did not bring you back into my life upon a whim. I brought you here to speak only of the truth and to let you make your own choices, but with all the facts at hand.'

I swallowed as I looked into his eyes. 'Then tell me the facts. And if you're lying, I will walk and you and me will be done. Forever.'

'No lies. I swear it.'

When I nodded, he finally took his hand from mine and I found myself rubbing the skin there, not because it had been particularly unpleasant, but because it had been the first time my own father had ever held my hand and inexplicably, I already missed his touch. Pushing that feeling down, I eyed him with suspicion, as he reached across the desk for a tablet, holding it to his chest so I couldn't see the screen as he spoke.

'You were right in what you said about the trueborns. They have fearsome powers. Unexplained abilities that the rest of the vampire world do not possess. And yes, the Council have been known to hunt them to harness those powers, as you say, but that was not always the case. You see, the trueborns would have you believe they are just a persecuted species of vampire, but there is far more to it than that. Holding powers such as they do – and there is an abundance in the variety of powers they can possess – speed, strength, mind control, to name but a few that have been reported over time, it is a gift, Sarah. A true gift. And yet time and time again, when the Church threatened to wipe out the entire vampire race, the trueborns refused the call of Council to help them. After that, the Council declared the trueborns to be traitors and they simply... disappeared.' 

He snapped his fingers. ' The myth of the trueborns is such that many vampires do not even believe they exist. They are a fairy tale. A legend. This is why Michael Quinn had never met another in his lifetime until recently. Now, any that are born to this world – and it is a rarity of all rarities that is for certain – are hidden away until they reach adulthood when it becomes harder to detect them, unless they reveal their powers to you.'

'But the Council does still hunt them?' I asked.

'Yes, most certainly. Only now, their mission to find any trueborn masks an even darker intention. They want to know where to find William Jonson, the trueborn who has made it his life's mission to not only search for others of his kind, but to find all the missing pieces of the Codex.'

My eyes widened. 'But, why? Even the Council already know what the prophecy is, why do they need William?'

Marcus grinned and I could see he was enjoying this. 'Remember what I said about interpretation of fragmented texts? You see what you want to see, Sarah. And the truth is, neither the Council nor the Church possess the full Codex.'

'But they believe that William does. That's why they want him?'

He nodded. 'That and for the fact he has been gathering trueborns to his cause since the nineteenth century. Why, might you ask? What could one trueborn possibly want with an army of supernatural creatures with powers that you and I could only ever dream of?'

I stare at him, coldness rushing into my bones. 'An army? Why would he need an army?'

Marcus shrugged. 'Why does anyone need an army? To gain or retain power, yes? Governments across the world have armies to defend or attack when necessary. To ensure they maintain their authority against a civil uprising. To dominate and kill. To rule.'

'You think the trueborns want to rule? Rule what? The vampires?'

'Anything they choose.' His shoulders slumped. 'Look, I am not suggesting this is their mission. I do not know. I am merely suggesting that an army of their capabilities is a dangerous thing. Particularly when you connect that with William's obsession with the prophecy. There is something in this Codex, something that links the trueborns to Augustine's prediction and it is something that neither the Church nor the Council are in possession of. Now, all the translations I have seen so far, they agree on one thing, that a trueborn and a sensor will meet and what comes of that meeting, will change everything. When winter's bite doth frost the Earth, two enemies bound by blood shall meet, one, true of birth and cold of vein – that could be Michael - the other, a warrior's heart and blade – that could certainly be you - together, their last battle cometh, and curse the edge of everything in darkness.'

'How do you even know all of this stuff?' I said, unable to mask the awe in my voice.

Marcus chuckled. 'Solitude. Many years of solitude. I have had a long time in which to keep myself occupied. And like I said, as soon as I realise what Dominique and the Council were doing, I needed to arm myself with the facts. You cannot go into war, without fully comprehending the complexities of the enemy you face.' He sighed. 'So, as far as we know, the prophecy talks only of a single trueborn. None of this explains William's interest in the Codex nor the reason he has devoted his life to gathering trueborns to his cause. And as for your new friend, Montague Kerr. Do not put too much faith in his story of a lost love and a life exiled from the Council. They do not excommunicate Elders from the Council for no reason, Sarah, and since then, he has lived a life of secrecy, shrouded by rich and powerful friends, and he still has a connection to William Jonson, no matter what he might say.'

'You think he's acting as an agent for the trueborns?'

This whole thing was becoming murkier by the second and I didn't like it one little bit.

'I think that he has an affiliation to them far greater than he would like you to know. I think his position on the Council was a fraud, and he was not acting in the best interests of the vampire race, but perhaps had another agenda in mind. He also understands the prophecy far more than he has intimated to you and Michael.'

'He called us the formidable Children of Prophecy,' I recalled.

Marcus' brow thickened. 'Which means he already believes you to be the ones that Augustine spoke of, and if he believes it, then you can rest assured William knows of your existence.'

My stomach flipped. 'Montague already contacted him. He said William would come to us. He wanted us to stay there with him and wait.'

'Hmm, William will not come now,' Marcus said, adamant. 'He would be foolish to risk such a thing, even for the supposed Children of Prophecy. By now, he will know that you and Michael were taken by force, but he will not know who took you. I should imagine he would believe the Church are involved.'

'Would he risk trying to take us back?'

'That could take time. And I do not think he is ready to risk an attack upon the Church itself. I believe he will use his resources to search for you both, but fortunately, his resources are not as plentiful as my own.'

'So, what do we do?'

Marcus raised a brow. 'You, do nothing. I will protect you. He will not find you here. Trust me, if I have managed to remain concealed all these years, I am certain we can keep you safe a little longer.'

A knot of unease twisted in my gut. 'And Michael?'

'Sarah,' he pressed, gently, his gaze drowning me in conern. 'Whatever you think this is you have with the trueborn, you should let it go. Trust your natural instincts where this vampire is concerned. Michael Quinn is not the man you think he is.'

'Oh, really? Then who is he, Marcus? Because I've got to be honest, I'm more likely to trust the vampire who's saved my arse on several occasions already, as opposed to the one who's been absent all my life and then sent his security goons to zap me with a taser.'

Marcus looked down at the tablet in his hands and tapped the screen, bringing it to life. A few more taps and he handed it to me, pointing at the image on display. It was a woman. Greying curls and a gaunt complexion. By the side of her image, it listed her name – Greta Fransson - her place of birth – Helsingborg, Sweden – her age when deceased – forty-four years old.

'I don't understand?' I said. 'Who is she?'

'Keep going,' he said, nodding for me to swipe the screen, which I did.

Another image, this time, a man. Younger, handsome. Closely cropped black hair. Elijah Oliver. Place of birth, Manchester, United Kingdom. Age when deceased, twenty-one years old.

'Keep going.'

And I did. Image after image. Face after face. All deceased.

'Why are you showing me this?' I whispered.

But I knew. I already knew.

'Because, Sarah, this is who Michael Quinn is. A killer. A paid killer. Every person you see here was a Sensor with a bounty on their head and the trueborn is the one that carried out the contracts to slaughter them. He showed them no mercy.'

I swallowed and handed him back the tablet.

'I know he's killed Sensors. He's never hidden that from me.'

'But did you know it is practically his occupation?'

When you have abilities like mine, let's just say it's easy getting into places you're not meant to go and taking things you're not meant to take.

That's what he'd said when I'd asked him where he got his money from. I'd joked with him about being a thief. A light-hearted moment that had made me stop to wonder how the Hell I'd gone from hating him to feeling at ease with him.

And now? Now I had no idea what I felt for him, but his lips still burned against mine and I could still recall the taste of him on my tongue.

'He didn't know about the prophecy any more than I did,' I insisted.

'He hunted you. That is what he does.'

'It wasn't like that. He was confused. Scared. He came to me to find answers.'

Marcus pursed his lips. 'He already knew about the Codex. He knew Baines was digging up information about the prophecy and he knew a Sensor had killed him. When he realised that you were that Sensor, he hunted you. Michael Quinn is a trueborn, the rarest of our kind, a lost creature desperate to find others like him because he knows that the trueborns hold answers he has been searching for his whole life. And what better way to gain access to those answers, than to have in his possession, the one Sensor everyone else is hunting?'

I bristled. 'I'm not his possession.'

Marcus stared hard at me. 'No. You are no one's possession. But if you go with him to search for William Jonson, you have no idea what you are walking into or what William Jonson will demand of you. And he will demand it, Sarah. If you are the Sensor they all believe you to be, if you are Augustine's Child of Prophecy, then whatever choice he prophesied you would have to make, it will be made for you – one way or the other. Chaos or calm. Light or dark.'

Holding the tablet out again, he tapped a finger onto the screen. The image of the Sensor, Elijah Oliver, lit up.

'Let Michael go, Sarah. Let him go search for William Jonson and tell him you will stay here with me. If I am wrong about him, then he will not protest. But if I am right...'

It didn't bring me quite as much satisfaction to kill him, as it will when I kill you.

I could have been a face on this list. I should have been a face on this list.

'Fine,' I finally whispered, looking up at the face of my father. 'Go get him, and let's see what he has to say.'