Elena stood in the library, the book heavy in her hands. She had hidden it beneath her pillow last night, but when morning came, she felt an ache inside, pulling her back to it. Something about the strange pages made her heart pound faster, as if the book itself were alive.
Her grandmother, Lady Isolde, was waiting for her in the sitting room. The sunlight spilled across her silver hair, but her eyes were sharp, unsoftened by the glow. She sat tall, a woman of iron will.
"You found it," she said without even looking up.
Elena froze. "Found what?"
"The book," her grandmother replied. Her voice was calm, but there was steel hidden beneath it. "I told the servants to keep it sealed. Yet you found it anyway. Just like your mother once did."
Elena's heart leapt. "My mother?"
Lady Isolde's sharp eyes turned toward her at last. "She was drawn to it too. That book carries his shadow. It whispers to those of our blood who cannot resist."
Elena hugged the book against her chest. "Why didn't you tell me? Why hide it?"
"Because," her grandmother said softly, "knowledge is a curse when it comes to him. The first vampire does not die, Elena. He does not fade. He waits. And he waits for you."
Elena shivered. "You mean… the Ancestor?"
Her grandmother's silence was answer enoug