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"Chilly? I'd figured you'd be used to it by now, Veronica," said a voice that was, as cliche as this sounds, much colder than I felt. I turned and saw a man towering over me. He had short charcoal hair that was dusted with gray. His skin was olive colored, and his eyes bloodshot. Whoever this was must have really loved black because that's the only color he wore from an inky cloak to scuffed, dark boots. His teeth had a yellowish tint to them that made his already malevolent, twisted smile even more disturbing. Once he saw my face, it faded slightly. "You're definitely not Veronica, are you?...