Lucan, former chief assassin of the Darkyn high lord Richard Tremayne, suzerain of a newly formed and still nameless jardin, and greatly loathed pariah among his kind, looked out at the gathering darkness. Despite seven centuries and more of walking the earth, first as a man and then as a creature who preyed on mankind, Lucan had spent scant time in the tropics. Here night came as would a stealthy lover to a balcony, climbing the cloud lattice to enfold the pastel innocence of day in his midnight cloak.
How easy it would be to walk into that singular darkness, follow it around the world, and dwell in it forever.
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