I. One day, your father and mother were hugging, and they began to have special feelings. Warm feelings that tingled in their private places. It is likely they weren’t wearing any clothes. At any rate, they began to rub against each other like two sticks trying to start a fire, and nine months later, you were born. If this is news to you, please put this book down now. There may well be big bad wolves and evil witches and faeries in the pages that follow, but I promise you, this isn’t a children’s story.
II. The supernatural is real.
III. You probably don’t believe me about point #2 because most of the world is under a spell called the Pax Arcana. This enchantment keeps humans from noticing or accepting any evidence of the supernatural that is not an immediate threat to their survival.
IV. The existence of the Pax Arcana is the real legendary secret guarded by the Knights Templar. Not the Holy Grail, not the secret family tree of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene, not the treasure hoard of King Solomon, not a vast political or corporate conspiracy to ruuulllllle the world. No, it’s the Pax Arcana.
V. Knights are bound to maintain the Pax by a geas, a magical compulsion that passes down from generation to generation like any other family curse. In exchange for being bound, knights enjoy a certain amount of protection against the supernatural; we cannot be compelled, beguiled, or enthralled because we are already compelled, beguiled, and enthralled.
VI. As you might have gathered from that “we,” I was once a knight. I was pretty good at it too, until I came down with a mild case of werewolf. Now I’m one of the monsters being hunted.
VII. My name is John Charming. You know all of those stories about guys called Prince Charming who were going around slaying monsters and rescuing maidens and getting magically cursed left and right? That’s my family you’re reading about, a long line of monster hunters though none of my ancestors were ever actually princes. For that matter, I’m pretty sure that not all of the women they were chasing were actually maidens either.
VIII. I lived on the run and off the grid for a very long time, but while I was hiding in a small southwestern Virginia town called Clayburg, I got caught up in a war between a vampire hive and a small group of monster hunters. Think of the latter as the modern-day equivalent of a mob with torches.
IX. The monster hunters were being led by two psychics: Stanislav Dvornik, an asshat who could see the future, and Sig Norresdotter, a descendant of Valkyries who could see dead people. There was also an Episcopalian priest on mental leave named Molly Newman, an exterminator turned ghost hunter named Chauncy “Choo” Childers, and a cop, Ted Cahill, whose definition of “bad guy” had been considerably expanded in recent years. I got involved because I thought I was rescuing them. In every way that mattered, they rescued me.
X. Sig Norresdotter and I developed feelings for each other. We only spent a short time together, but it was a very intense short time. To give you an idea of how intense, let me add that Stanislav Dvornik didn’t like what was happening between me and Sig, and all of this drama was going on in the middle of an ongoing vampire hunt. There was confusion and lots of screaming and hurt feelings all around. Blood was shed, comrades were betrayed, magazine subscriptions got canceled, somebody ate the chicken salad that somebody else left in the fridge, and when the dust settled, Stanislav was dead. So were the vampires, although I suppose in their case they were dead again. Or for real dead this time.
XI. I left Clayburg, but I was worried about Sig and her small band of vigilantes because I didn’t know how vigorously the knights who were after me might try to question them. I “left” Clayburg, but I kind of didn’t leave Clayburg. I mean, I told everyone I was leaving Clayburg, but I’m very good at skulking. Not sulking. Not stalking. Skulking.
XII. And I know I said this prelude was about ten things, but there’s something else you ought to know: I get things wrong sometimes.