Predator. Killer. Monster.
The words echo in Sunny Martin’s head each time she looks in the mirror. Since the night she was torn from her car and drained of her blood, only one fear rivals that of the hungry beast within her - the fear of exposure.
Her lonely struggle to survive on the edge of the human world leads Sunny to the mountain peaks of Colorado where she meets Nicolas, the enigmatic leader of a hidden society.
Their passion, tainted by betrayal, violence, and murder, reveals a shocking truth behind Sunny's savage nature, and drives her toward an agonizing Choice between her heart and the last remnant of her human soul.
Welcome to Mysteries Unveiled with your host, William Wilson. Tonight’s guest brings us a mystery of a personal nature. Although this is not the type of mystery we typically examine, we’ve made an exception in this case due to some rather unusual circumstances surrounding it.
Please welcome our guest, Sunny Martin. Hello, Ms. Martin. May I call you Sunny?
She wanders around the living room, still ignoring the chair I’d offered upon her arrival just a moment ago. Her gaze, hidden by a pair of large sunglasses, lingers on the windows and the door, as though she’s gauging potential escape routes.
Tall and slender, she’s dressed in a black leather jacket and sweater over a pair of tight-fitting jeans and black high-heeled boots. A pair of thin, silvery scars run down her right cheek and jaw. Her long, dark brown hair curls about her shoulders, and she moves with a strange combination of strength and feline grace. She’s odd, quite different from any previous guests we’ve had.
Ms. Martin? Sunny?
Yes, you can call me Sunny. That’s fine.
Please explain to the audience why you are here.
She stops at the fireplace, then turns and faces me.
I’m trying to find someone. I believe he’s in danger. He’s a longtime listener of your show, and I’m hoping he’s listening tonight.
But he’s not just a listener. Didn’t you say he’s also a frequent caller?
Yes. He’s very analytical and enjoys using science to solve the mysteries you feature on your program.
Indeed he does. Listeners, you may know of whom we speak. He goes by the name of Dr. Miklos and is a frequent contributor to the discussions on this show. He’s also a bit of a mystery himself.
In the hope that he is listening, Sunny, tell us a little about why you are looking for him. You mentioned he might be in danger. What kind of danger?
It’s . . . complicated. But I believe his former . . . associates might be trying to kill him.
How do you know Dr. Miklos? Have the two of you met in person?
How long have you known him?
Well, not long, actually. Just a few months.
A few months? How did you meet?
She resumes her catlike prowl around the room, then stops at the bookcase.
He was . . . he was standing across the street, staring at me. I’ve never felt anything like that before, and I could tell just by looking at him that he was like me.
Like you? In what way?
She shakes her head, offering a rueful half smile.
It’s nothing I can really explain.
What happened then?
He just vanished into the crowd. And then that night, when I got off work from bartending, he was waiting for me outside on the sidewalk.
That must’ve been a little strange.
It was. It was frightening. And yet I felt so drawn to him. I’ve been alone a long time and haven’t met anyone like him before—at least formally. So when he suggested we talk in the café down the street, I was both thrilled and scared. But I went with him anyway.
How did that turn out? What was he like?
He was . . . he was wonderful. And terrifying.
He’s very powerful. I wasn’t sure at first whether or not he meant to . . . well, never mind.
Harm you in some way?
He’s tall, about six-foot-three, and athletic, and has the most mesmerizing green eyes. He’s very sophisticated and dignified. A real gentleman. And he’s extremely passionate—about everything.
You love him.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she presses her lips together and looks down at the floor a moment, then nods.
Yes, I do. Very much.
Does he love you?
She looks back up at me, her eyes and much of her face still hidden by the dark glasses.
So what happened after that first meeting? Did you continue to see one another?
A log in the fireplace snaps in the flames, and she flinches, then begins pacing the room again.
Yes. We became . . . very involved.
What are some of your favorite memories of that time together?
I . . . don’t know. I suppose the ski trip. He took me skiing for the first time. Nic—I mean, Dr. Miklos is a wonderful teacher, and when we skied down the mountain that night with the lights off, it was magical, like we were on our very own planet.
You skied in the dark with no lights?
Oh. Well, the moon’s reflection on the snow lit up the slope. Besides, he sees pretty well in the dark. We both do.
Any other memories you care to share?
His garden. He has the most wonderful topiary garden, filled with all kinds of mythological creatures made from living plants. And he does all the work himself. He’s so meticulous—with everything . . .
You miss him.
What do you miss the most about him?
Stopping beside the guest chair, she stares across the room, then takes a deep breath.
I miss his smile, and the amusement lighting up his emerald eyes when I’ve said or done something silly . . .
Her jaw tightens as she pauses.
And his unusual compassion for others, though he denies it—
A shuddering breath tears from her throat.
And his passion for me. I miss that most of all . . . I’m sorry. I can’t—
She turns her back to me, hugging herself once again.
Well, let’s talk about something different then. What do you think he sees in you?
I don’t know. My naïvety, I suppose. And my lack of ambition in his world.
I’m not as ruthless as most of his associates—at least in the way they are.
So you’re ruthless in a different way?
A sudden, bitter laugh escapes her.
Oh, yes. You have no idea.
The icy tone in her voice chills the very air in the room.
In . . . in what way?
She slowly turns around, raises her hand to her face, and takes off the sunglasses. Glacier-colored eyes regard me with a flat stare—a stare I’ve only seen from the eyes of a battle-hardened soldier, or a serial killer on trial. Red flickers briefly within the pupils.
You don’t really want to know.
Right. Okay, then. Well, do you . . . do you have any other words for our audience? Anything you’d like to say to Dr. Miklos, in case he’s listening?
Her gaze softens, then she looks away and dons the sunglasses once again.
I’m sorry. Yes. Yes, I do have something I’d like to say to Nic . . . to Dr. Miklos.
She takes a deep breath and focuses her hidden gaze across the room.
If you’re out there, please listen to me. Come back. We’ll leave it all behind—the Game, the war, the others. It’ll be just you and me. We’ll go to that special place we’ve talked about, and we’ll live free where no one will find us. Just you and me. Please, please come back. You know where I’ll be . . .
The air sighs, and she is no longer behind the chair. In fact, she is no longer in the room.
Uh, well, that’s it for our show tonight, folks. Join us next time as we unveil yet another mystery. Until then, good night.
With a bone-deep shiver, I get up to close the door, which is standing wide open. As I peer out into the night, I can’t help but think one of the biggest mysteries I’ve ever encountered was standing in my living room just a moment ago.
Closing the door, I lock it, knowing full well that it provides little barrier to something that moves as fast and silently as Sunny Martin. Recalling the eerie red light that flashed in her eyes, I suddenly feel grateful to be alive.
I do hope, though, that she finds who she’s looking for.
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