Lailah. That had been my name. My first name. The only name. How had I forgotten it?
On the first day of Christmas, I met a Second Generation Vampire. His name was Jonah. He led me to Gabriel, an Angel, whose face had balanced on the tip of my memory for as long as I could remember.
The chance encounter catapulted me into the epicentre of a battle between a race of Pureblood Vampires and the Arch Angels.
Until now, I had believed I was an insignificant, seventeen-year-old girl – albeit a tad on the immortal side – and all I had wanted was to find Gabriel. Then I was told that, in fact, I was the most deadly being to ever exist; that the fate of all worlds hung in the balance, as long as I was still breathing.
As if that wasn’t enough to contend with, I found myself caught between the love and the light that I felt for Gabriel, my Angel; and Jonah, a dark soul, and an itch no less that I desperately needed to scratch, but in a place I couldn’t quite reach.
However, whilst they sought the answer to what I am, they made a fatal mistake. They should have, instead, considered who it was that I would become – a far more urgent question.
My name is Lailah.
Every ending had a beginning. This is the story of the beginning of my end...
“You’re cold,” he observed, and he stopped walking. “Here.”
He whipped off his dark leather jacket and stood in front of me. Placing it around my shoulders, he pulled the collar edges together to keep the cold out. Glancing down thoughtfully, his pupils swelled a little larger inviting me in. I was captured momentarily by his expression, a wicked grin spreading across his face. I knew he was dangerous, and not because he was a Vampire. He stepped a little closer and bent down suggestively, so he was almost nose-to-nose with me, his unwavering stare meeting my own...
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