Prologue

The grandmotherly old woman sat in the mall, doing her knitting. To most passers-by, she looked the perfect picture of eccentric innocence. Those who had the time to actually notice her found their lips involuntarily curving upwards into a smile. The mall cops, who would normally try to discourage people from sitting there too long, strangely gave her a wide berth.

Late afternoon, the casual browsers and window-shoppers mysteriously disappeared from the mall and a sort of expectant hush settled over it. Suddenly the reason revealed itself as the first of the local high school teenagers announced their arrival, talking nineteen-to-the-dozen, laughing raucously, and occasionally indulging in apparently random bouts of pushing and shoving.

Gradually the melee subsided and the casual browsers and window-shoppers trickled back from their temporary refuges. A late group of four schoolboys appeared. The old woman glanced at them and instantly dismissed them. Nerds, they were called these days; she was quite certain all four still had their V-plates. Then she looked again. One of the boys was a bit different; he seemed more athletic, with a cute face and a very cute butt.

For an instant she was tempted to take him for a test drive. A simple glamour would make her look decades younger. Then her centuries of experience kicked in; pretty young boys were all very well in the looks department but they didn’t know how to please a woman. They could be trained, of course, but she didn’t feel like making the effort. She felt tired all the time these days. It was past the time when she normally renewed but there were so many people and so much surveillance that it was getting harder and harder to find a suitable virgin maiden whose life-blood she could safely drink. She hoped she hadn’t left it too late.

The boys stopped adjacent to an advertising display. It changed every few seconds. She’d deliberately chosen a seat from which she couldn’t see it in order to avoid torturous flickering in her peripheral vision while she knitted.

Suddenly the cute boy pointed at the advertising display. “That is so GAY!” he said loudly, causing his friends to snigger.

The old woman was annoyed. She’d had many lovers over the centuries, both male and female, and she found homophobia repugnant. Her concentration broken, one of her knitting needles pricked a finger, drawing blood. Now doubly annoyed, the old woman decided to teach the boy a lesson. Her lips moved wordlessly as she cast her chosen enchantment. Suddenly the boy looked her straight in the eye, only to immediately break contact as though he were scared at what he’d seen.

‘So you should be,’ thought the woman, chuckling silently to herself as she finished her incantation.

Chapter 1 »