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what appears to be hard fact.
     
    'If I were to believe – ' I choose my words carefully as my ears struggle to comprehend what my own lips are saying. ' – Then what is this place? What exactly do you train... our kind in?' I emphasise the ' our ', careful to express my unwillingness to identify myself with him.
     
    Sir Alec's triumphant smile infuriates me; I'm not yet ready to give in to the impossible, not yet ready to accept that stories of vampires and witches are historical fact. It goes against my entire belief system.
     
    'Allow me to show you something first of all,' Sir Alec Gray extends a hand to me, which I don't take; instead I follow him to a seemingly uninteresting tall wooden cabinet. It's oak – like the doors – but intricately carved with impressions of devils and saints, etched into the fine woodwork by expert hands.
    'Do you like it?' He asks, eyeing the cabinet.
     
    'It's exquisite.' I admit with a slight nod.
     
    'Thank you,' He smiles. 'I made it back in Egypt, many years ago.'
     
    I ignore him – still unconvinced that this isn't one big joke – and he swings one of the cabinet doors open to reveal a full length mirror bolted to the inside. The woman in the reflection looks a little like me, but isn't.
    She's five foot and six inches – like me – with poker-straight black hair nestling on her shoulders and shocking green eyes. Her skin is pale, her legs long and her clothes are withered and worn. She wears an exterior of dirt and grime, but beneath her shabby costume is a beautiful, inhuman woman.
    Beneath the slime and grease, her hair is vibrant, full of life and shimmering in the candlelight. Her eyes are a brilliant emerald with flecks of blue and yellow – the whites clean, the lashes thick. Her skin is smooth as porcelain and flawless – like alabaster – and it shines and ripples beneath the light. Her limbs – once gangly and awkward – are elegant and endless, her muscles taut, her body lithe.
     
    I'm breathless, astounded by my healthy, unearthly appearance. I've never been ugly, but I've certainly never been beautiful. It's easy to see I'm different – not just from my usual self, but from other people, too. I have an ethereal presence, something I can't quite put my finger on but which is undoubtedly there.
    The ability to turn my nose up at Sir Alec's Immortal claims is becoming harder by the second; though I remain stubborn – unconvinced it isn't merely a trick of the light.
     
    'Have a seat, Miss Ryder, and I will explain our purpose in recruiting you,' Sir Alec gestures to the chair, waiting patiently as I hesitate.
     
    I've frequently used the phrase 'seeing is believing' and firmly stuck to that notion, but if that's what I truly believe; I'm hard pressed to find an alternate explanation for the changes of my body.
    I'm reluctant to sit and listen to Sir Alec's reasoning, but I know I have little choice and must simply accept – for the moment – the bizarre and unbelievable situation I find myself in. I must decide what is fact and what is fiction later.
     
    Sir Alec takes his seat opposite me – appearing much more chipper now that I'm co-operating – and smiles, linking his fingers together and resting his chin atop his hands.
     
    'As I stated before; some of the information I'm about to give you will be hard for you to accept. It will seem fantastical and most of it fictional, but I assure you – every word is fact and nothing but truth. Whether you choose to believe it right now is entirely down to you, but after just a few days here, I'm sure you'll be hard pressed to deny it.'
     
    'A few days?' I squeak, hardly believing my ears. Sir Alec sighs.
     
    'Miss Ryder, this process will be much quicker and substantially easier if I'm not interrupted. I will explain each detail to you – I assure you. I will answer your questions in due course,'
     
    I suppress a snappy comment and lean back in my chair, attempting to show willing.
     
    'You have