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I’d also like to send a special thanks to:

My agent, Miriam, my wonderful crit buddies (the lulus), Karenne (for all her hard work on the newsletter and the forum), and last but not least, my ever-patient family.

Chapter One

Some things I remembered.

Some things I couldn’t.

Like who I was.

Or why I was sitting naked on a beach next to a dead man.

And yet I knew why I was here. I was waiting for the dawn to give him a final kiss good-bye before she guided his soul on to its next life.

The breeze that curled around me was cold, as cold as the sand was harsh. And yet these sensations were a fleeting thing. Goose bumps might tremble across my skin, and sand might grate against my buttocks and thighs, but both failed to register on anything more than a flesh level. I felt no cold, no pain, no sorrow.

Nothing.

It was as if I were dead inside. As dead as the man lying beside me. Yet, for some reason, I was still breathing and he wasn’t.

Why?

That was a question that haunted me, teasing the frozen edges of my thoughts and memories.

Why him and not me?

I didn’t know, I just didn’t know, and yet I knew it was a question that was important. I knew my life might well depend on the answer.

I drew my knees close to my chest and studied the distant horizon. Though dawn had yet to stain night’s cover, it was coming. Already its warm power vibrated across the air, an eager humming that was both familiar and alien. I didn’t understand the sensation, didn’t know the reason behind it, and yet the mere fact that I could feel it had relief sweeping through me.

It was frustrating, this not knowing. Not remembering.

I let my gaze move across the ocean, watching the waves roll lazily toward the sand, seeing nothing out there in the vast expanse of white-capped blueness. No ship. No boat. No pursuit.

But I didn’t bother questioning why I was expecting any of those things, because the past remained hidden under a blanket that was almost absolute.

Almost.

I rubbed a hand across eyes that felt like they’d cried a thousand tears, then glanced down at the body of my friend. I might not remember my own name, but I knew his. Egan Jamieson. Not only my friend, but also my guardian, my lover, and a man to whom I owed a debt more important than life itself.

He’d saved me.

He’d given me freedom at the cost of his own.

The need for revenge welled deep and fast and furious, until I was all but shaking with it. They would pay for this. Whoever they were, they would pay.

For Egan.

For all of us.

And it was a vow that was useless unless I could damn well remember who, exactly, I needed to take revenge upon.

I grimaced and returned my gaze to Egan. In the fading moonlight, his skin seemed to glow with a rich warmth, as if the sun itself still burned beneath his flesh. A birthmark marred his back, a snakelike stain that seemed to dive into his skin and out again, until it almost seemed coiled around his spine. In the night, it took on a reddish-gold appearance and contained a sheen oddly reminiscent of scales.