The voice was female. Old in a way that had nothing to do with physical age. Carrying layers of history in its timbre that resonated against something deep in his memory.
He turned, Drusilla still suspended in his grip.
A figure stood in the doorway. She looked to be in her forties, with dark hair streaked with silver, wearing simple clothes that contrasted completely with the gothic drama of the room. Her eyes held the darkness of a demon but something else too—a complexity that demons without extreme age didn't possess.
She looked at him with an expression of absolute recognition mixed with something that took him a moment to identify.
Jolthar stared at her, trying to remember who she was.
Then it clicked.
She was a vampire who he met in the port city. In the castle, he met her along with the siren queen.
The name came from somewhere deep in memory.
"Cornelia."
