“I’m not sure how to do this,” he warned me. “I’m not entirely convinced I’m good for anyone. Or that I even know how to be.” He grimaced. “For the first time in eight centuries, I don’t know what I’m doing. I truly have no idea.”
“No one does. Not really. Welcome to being a person.”
That caused a small smile to dance across his lips. “I suppose I am now,” he said softly, searching my gaze. “I do feel like a man again. It’s rather extraordinary. And confusing.”
“That’s part of being a person, too,” I assured him. Rather than feel unsettled by his doubt, I felt more sure than ever I was making the right decision.
After all, if he was right and I was an old soul, that meant my memories of him were likely real as well. I had loved him for lifetimes. And perhaps I would love him for lifetimes still.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR || COLE
When Eli and I returned to my home, I immediately knew something was terribly wrong. The door was unlatched, its wood splintered. Someone had broken the lock.
I put a hand on Eli’s chest to stop him from pushing the door open.
He froze, his brows drawing together. “Nicolas—”
I shook my head sharply, and he broke off. Then, when I nodded down at the splintered doorframe, he followed my gaze. His eyes widened in alarm.
He took a step back, his movements nearly soundless. But to my senses, the faint squeak of his shoes, the rustle of his clothing, the rapidly accelerating pounding of his heartbeat—all of it was far too loud.
I slid my arm around his waist, prepared to whisk him away at vampire speed. But when we turned, a dark-haired vampire blocked our path.
My stomach lurched. Godric.
I hadn’t seen him in eight centuries—not since my maker, Magnus, had let me go. But I knew precisely who he was: Magnus’s right-hand man. If he was here, my maker wasn’t far behind.
“Get behind me,” I growled, stepping in front of Eli.
“Hello, Nicolas,” Godric said softly, his black eyes staring into mine. “You have no wish to fight me.”
His words were laced with a thread of power that might have worked on a much younger vampire. As it was, it merely pissed me off.
I launched myself forward. I had no weapons to destroy him with, but I needed to incapacitate him before he could harm Eli. This vampire was dangerous.
Godric sidestepped me easily, moving in a blur of speed.
I intercepted him before he could go for Eli, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him to the ground.
His reflexes were incredible. He rolled in a fluid motion, his body moving with the momentum rather than against it. An instant later, he launched himself back to his feet. There was a small cut on his forehead, and dark blood, nearly black, trickled from it.
He narrowed his gaze at me. “That hurt.”
“Good.” I stepped in front of Eli again, keeping him at my back. If Godric wanted to harm him, he’d have to kill me first.
Given that he was twice my age, that seemed a likely possibility. Fear threaded through me at the thought of what might become of my beautiful human.
“Nicolas, stop!” a new voice said from behind me.
My blood ran cold. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in centuries.
So very much like my own.
I turned—and it was like staring into a mirror. Thierry stood in the doorway. His electric-blue eyes, precisely the same shade as mine, were fixed on me. His golden hair was a touch longer than mine, but otherwise, I could have been gazing at my own reflection.
Behind me, Eli let out a soft gasp.
A tall, broad, sandy-haired man stepped out of the doorway behind Thierry to join him. His piercing blue eyes narrowed in challenge. For a split second, they seemed to flash gold.
