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undulating dark pond, I felt something tugging at my mind. A phantom hand pulling on a string attached to somewhere deep within my psyche. Resisting its lure, I tried to move away, but my feet wouldn’t obey. I stayed standing in that spot, watching the movement of the water.
    Buzzing rang in my ears. Like static, sound hummed against my eardrums. Between the waves of nothingness, I heard whispering. The murmurs were seductive. I strained to hear more. I wanted to hear more.
    Dropping the knife to the ground, I fell to my knees and leaned toward the pond. Was the whispering coming from the water? Something was trying to communicate with me. Something alien but sensual in its promise. What was it saying? I needed to know.
    Panic gripped me and I leaned even closer. I could see the moon reflected in the water. Something about the light urged me closer, tempting me to touch it, promising me that I could hold it in the palm of my hand. I’d always wanted to hold the moon. Knowing it would feel cool and pleasant on my skin like caressing porcelain.
    Settling my hands on the water’s edge, I leaned even further, my nose nearly touching the dark ripples. I stared at my reflection, illuminated by the pale moonbeams. My eyes glowed green like the orbs on a traffic post. It might’ve been a trick of the light, but I felt like the luminosity was coming from within. Somewhere deep inside me burned bright with emerald fire.
    My pale skin seemed even paler--as white as alabaster. That too could’ve been a deception by the moon’s rays, but from the same place that sizzled green flame radiated the white glow of my skin.
    Wide-eyed and ferocious, my appearance startled me. I looked like a dark warrior not of this world. The cut on my cheek added to the battle-scarred effect. The fae blood coursing through my veins showed through my human façade. There was no mistaking it. Not now, with the glow of moonlight cascading over my flesh, urging the glow from within. I looked fierce, as if I could take down a man with one blow.
    I liked that. A lot.
    The whispering continued and I strained to hear the beautifully haunting words. Balancing on my knees and hands, I was close to falling into the water. But I didn’t care. The promises in the murmurs were too seductive to pull away from. My whole existence resided on those words, if only I could decipher them. If only I could understand.
    Then the words stopped. Dead. Like a vacuum had sucked up all the sound around me. Even the crickets stopped chirping.
    Frantic, I eyed the water, searching for the source of the whispers. I wouldn’t be denied the knowledge that I knew lay within the murmured words. A cold sense of dread crept over me. As if I had lost the warmth of a sweater during an icy winter storm.
    So lost in my hunt, I never saw the thing that reached for me from the pond.
    There was no time to take in a deep breath before it yanked my head under the water. Frenzied, I clawed at the thing clutching me. I felt hard cold flesh under my fingers and nails. Plumes of blood floated up from the wounds I had inflicted. Something, or someone, had a hand bound in my hair pulling me down, keeping me in the water, drowning me.
    As I scratched and kicked against the hold on me, I wondered how I could drown in the shallow pond. When I looked down through the water now, I sensed it went on forever. As if I had an endless ocean in my garden.
    I pulled and yanked back my head, fighting desperately to get away. Even as I struggled, I could feel the air pushing out of my lungs. Pressure on my chest made my head pound and my eyes bulge painfully. I wouldn’t hold out much longer… the urge to open my mouth and gasp for air burned through me.
    With a last ditch effort, I clawed my nails across the icy flesh holding me, tearing divots into it. A faint cry of agony floated up in a bubble and the grip on my hair loosened. It was enough to raise my head and