The first time I realized I wasn't exactly normal was when I kicked a vampire who tried to bite my neck about thirty feet across a parking lot.

"What the hell?" The guy in the outdated gothic trench coat scrambled to his feet, staring at me in shock. "What are you?"


I shrugged, my amber eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Wish I knew, buddy."

Seriously, for twenty-five years I thought I was just a regular guy—okay, except for those weird dreams and my mild aversion to sunlight. Then three months ago, I "died" in a car crash and woke up... different. Suddenly I could hear heartbeats from hundreds of yards away, see in the dark like it was high noon, and apparently, kick vampires across parking lots like footballs.

"Your blood..." he said cautiously, maintaining his distance, "it smells weird. Half like us, half like... hunters."


Now that was new information. I raised an eyebrow. "Hunters? What hunters?"

But instead of answering, he took off like he'd seen a ghost. Ironic, considering he was the undead one.


I sighed and continued my nighttime stroll. This was the third vampire attack, but the first time I'd gotten any clue about my identity. Half-breed? Part vampire, part hunter? Made sense, but opened up a whole new can of worms.

Even worse were the dreams. Since my "resurrection," I'd been dreaming of the same man every night—hair like silver moonlight, eyes cold enough to freeze hell itself. In these dreams, I called him Master, and he... he looked at me with something I couldn't quite decipher. That name—Elias Blackwood—had been haunting my thoughts like an annoying pop song on repeat, floating through my subconscious at the most random moments.

I shook my head and decided tonight was the night. According to my intel, the Western Vampire Territory was at the edge of this city. If I was some kind of hybrid freak, that's where I'd find answers.

As I scaled the wall of the ancient estate, a strange sense of familiarity hit me. Like I'd been here before. No, not just been here—like I had belonged here.

An alarm suddenly blared, and I cursed under my breath. Apparently, modern vampires believed in security systems. I quickly ducked into the shadows, my heart racing.

That's when I felt it—an overwhelming presence behind me. I turned slowly, my amber eyes meeting ice-blue ones.

Standing in the moonlight was the man from my dreams.

He looked more real than in my dreams, more... shocked. That usually expressionless face was filled with disbelief. His pale lips trembled slightly as he uttered a name:

"Ethan?"

I frowned. "Sorry, it's Nate."

His expression instantly returned to its cold mask, but those eyes—those eyes still burned with something I couldn't understand.

"You shouldn't be here," his voice was deep and dangerous, "especially someone like you... a half-breed."

I grinned provocatively. “So you are Elias Blackwood. The man who’s been haunting my dreams every night.” I watched his reaction carefully, searching for confirmation. “Strange how I feel like I know you, isn’t it?”

His eyes widened slightly. "You remember my name."

“I remember fragments—pieces of a puzzle I can’t quite solve.” I stepped forward, emboldened by his reaction. “Your face, your name… but the rest is just out of reach. I need answers about why you’re in my head.”

His gaze grew complex, as if he was fighting some internal battle. Finally, he made a decision.

"Follow me," he turned toward the ancient mansion, "but I warn you, Nate—some memories are better left buried."

I followed his steps, my heart racing. For some reason, I felt like I was walking toward a fate I'd been running from for centuries.

And this time, I wasn't sure I could escape again.