To describe the full catastrophic effect Hurricane Katrina wrought upon New Orleans is beyond the scope of this story, and this author's ability. The story only briefly mentions the great devastation this city suffered and continues to recover from. My heart goes out to all whose lives were affected by this disaster.

We were in a private jet winging through the darkness of night, flying to New Orleans. My new territory. I was dressed in a black gown. Full-length, formal. Not my usual style or taste. But at least this one fit me, not like the hand-me-downs from Mona Sera, which had gaped and gathered at my modest bosom. My mother was lushly built. Not so, me. Too bad I hadn't inherited that physical aspect from her. Or maybe it was a good thing that I hadn't inherited more of her traits. Not too nice, my mother.

All I seemed to have gotten from Mona Sera was my black hair, high cheekbones, and a jawline that was both delicate and strong. Oh, yeah. And the Monère blood that ran strong and true and dominant in my blood. A quarter of me is human. The other three-fourths is of another species, from another world: Monère—children of the moon, stronger and faster than humans. And more powerful. We are the truth that the legends of werewolf and vampires are based upon.

Beside me sat Gryphon. He'd been unusually quiet. We weren't touching, but I felt his presence, his power, like a hand pressing delicately against my skin.