Chapter 1

Tuesday 3:31 A.M. Under the Loop, Chicago, IL

The News Stand at W. Van Buren St. and Wabash Ave. appeared like any other Chicago street scene. The young man who ran it with his father looked third or fourth generation Irish-American.

But looks, as the saying goes, can be quite deceiving even at the very best of times.

The dividing fabric between all five worlds was tenuous here at best and the guardians that had gravitated here made security at Cheyenne Mountain seem like an open park playground.

Tuesday 3:32 A.M. In an alley one block west of Wabash Ave.

Forcing the portal with his hunger, Hazkor could feel its pull building. Just a few more seconds and he would be free to rape the world of living men. 'Delicious!' the thought coursed through his being. As his presence impinged on the realm men called reality he became aware of being deflected from his intended target.

The last thing he felt was his absorption into non-being; his last scream of rage dying stillborn in his throat.

Tuesday 3:33 A.M. One block west of Wabash Ave.

Elnore, Third Lord of House-Elman, gave a sigh of contentment.

'Well-done my folk and thank Danu these stupid Demons never pass Intel back up the chain', he broadcast to his crew with a chuckle. 'Back to Grant Park Grove, it's Miller Time.'

He loved the endless creativity of humans. No Clan member that ever lived would have thought to name a celebration after a beverage. He also sent a 'silent thanks' in passing to his Grandsire for having the foresight to mix human blood in the family; otherwise his branch of Faery would never have been able to work around this much Iron and Steel 'Death-Metal'.

'Three incursions this week alone and it was only Tuesday. Wonder what's stirring them up so badly?' he mused while turning to head back toward Lake Michigan.

Tuesday 3:34 A.M. The News Stand at W. Van Buren St. and Wabash Ave.

Mike Kilian received Elnore's report while setting out the early morning edition of the Sun Times.

'Three more off Wabash in less than a week?' he pondered. 'Could these have been just wayward incursions, or were they scouts? Best to keep a sharp eye out.'

He'd certainly never sought the post of Nexus security coordinator. The responsibility had fallen on him, like a ton of bricks out of a clear blue sky. Some days it was like Anaconda wrestling. Some days were better. But he would do the job to his last breath if need be.

'Strange how powerful a motivator and stabilizing factor, love can be, ' he thought.

Tuesday 3:34 A.M. Hell, Upper level 1.5

Alzor was not just upset. His rage and fury - like a miasma of pain - lay waiting to strike any target of opportunity and could be felt throughout the entire region. Lesser Demons scurried to avoid his path and even those who almost matched his power level were extremely careful in his presence.

'That miserable excuse of a slime mold Hazkor has failed ME! If only he had survived his failure. I would have made his screaming last for a minor eternity. But enough of these pleasant daydreams there was work to accomplish.'

'Summon the Council, ' the thought flashed through his domain and in the space of a human heartbeat they stood before him. His gaze swept over the twelve and his voice followed seconds later. "We need a new plan; get on it," he hissed at them. The chamber instantly emptied like a soap bubble bursting and he returned to his own thoughts of mayhem.

'There has to be a way and I will find it, ' he vowed, as grinding fangs played their counterpoint to his total frustration.

Tuesday 12:02 P. M. Fifteen Years Previous / Grant Park, Chicago, IL

Michael Shaun Kilian had grown up in and around the Grant Park area of Chicago, reveling in the park's secret trails and hiding places. Some of his earliest and happiest memories were mingled within the environs located there.

One of his favorites was Buckingham Fountain. He could literally sit for hours on end, watching the play of colored lights in the leaping waters.

Perhaps, it was this affinity for water that led to his initial contact with the Elven Clan. Then again, perhaps it was just his destiny. The vivid clarity of that first meeting still reached to the depths of his soul.

Having grown up in an Irish household he had heard all the old sagas of the Elven Bright and Dark Courts; of hero's true and unspeakable villains. But never in his wildest fantasies did he ever imagine the tales were based in fact.