Following a vampire lord through his mansion wasn't on my bucket list, but here I was, trailing behind Elias like a lost puppy. The hallways were lined with paintings that had to be centuries old, and each step on the marble floor echoed like a heartbeat.

"Nice place you've got," I quipped, trying to mask my unease. "Very 'Dracula meets Architectural Digest.'"


Elias didn't even glance back. "Your humor hasn't changed."

"Excuse me?" I quickened my pace to walk beside him. "So we did know each other?"

His jaw tightened. "In another life."


We entered what appeared to be a study—walls of ancient books, a massive desk, and windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, currently covered by heavy drapes. The room smelled of old paper and something else... something familiar.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to a leather chair.


I crossed my arms. "I don't take orders well."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "That hasn't changed either."

He moved to a cabinet and pulled out a crystal decanter filled with dark red liquid. I didn't need to ask what it was.

"You drink that stuff straight? No fancy cocktail names like 'Bloody Mary, Hold the Mary'?"

Elias poured two glasses. "Your blood is half vampire. You need this too, whether you've realized it yet or not."

He handed me a glass, and our fingers brushed. A jolt of electricity shot through me, accompanied by a flash of memory—those same hands, centuries ago, teaching me how to hold a sword.

I nearly dropped the glass. "What the hell was that?"

Elias's eyes narrowed. "What did you see?"

"You... teaching me to fight." I stared at the blood in my glass, then back at him. "How is that possible?"

"Drink," he said simply. "Then we'll talk."

I hesitated, then took a sip. The taste was... incredible. Not metallic or disgusting as I'd expected, but rich and warm, like the best wine imaginable. My body responded instantly, strength flowing through my veins.

"Holy shit," I whispered, staring at my hands as they tingled with energy.

"Your body recognizes what it needs." Elias sat across from me, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "Now, tell me how you returned."

"Returned? I was born twenty-five years ago in Boston. Normal childhood, normal life until the accident." I leaned forward. "My turn. Who was Ethan to you?"

Something flashed in his eyes—pain, longing, anger? "Ethan was my blood servant. My most trusted companion for nearly a century."

"And you think I'm him... reincarnated?"

"I don't think. I know." His voice was certain. "Your soul carries his essence, though your personality has... evolved."

I laughed nervously. "So what, I'm supposed to go back to being your servant? Because that's not happening."

"No." His response was immediate, almost angry. "That's not what I want."

"Then what do you want?"

Elias stood abruptly and walked to the window, pulling back the drape slightly to reveal the night sky. "To understand how this happened. In four hundred years, I've never encountered a true reincarnation."

"Well, that makes two of us who want answers." I finished my drink, feeling oddly comfortable with the whole blood-drinking thing. "How did he—I—die?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Elias's back stiffened, and when he spoke, his voice was hollow.

"You were murdered. By hunters who wanted to destroy me."

"And did you avenge me?" I asked, not sure why I cared.

He finally turned, his eyes glowing with an eerie blue light. "Every last one of them."

A shiver ran down my spine—not of fear, but recognition. Like some part of me remembered being the person he would kill for.

Before I could respond, the study door burst open. A tall woman with flame-red hair stormed in, her eyes widening when she saw me.

"Impossible," she whispered, then turned to Elias with fury. "You brought a hunter-blood into our sanctuary?"

"Vivienne," Elias warned, "this doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't concern me?" She laughed bitterly. "You harbor the very creature whose kind slaughtered our coven in Prague, and it doesn't concern me?"

Her gaze returned to me, hatred burning in her emerald eyes. "Whatever face he wears, whatever memories you think he has—he is not Ethan. And if you won't eliminate this threat, I will."

Her fangs extended with a hiss, and I realized I might have walked into something far more dangerous than a reunion with my supposed past life's boss.