metanoia (noun): a transformative change of heart; changing one’s mind

I stalked the worlds of both mortals and Strangers as a weapon of brutal efficiency… until my conscience got in the way.

When I signed on to become part of the High Council's elite force of mercenaries I expected glory and fortune. I became a living legend, my name feared throughout the Strangefells. But when a routine job took an unexpected turn, my world was upended. The walls I’d built around that little bit of soul I had left came crashing down and I fell. Hard.

I ran, broken, hiding in a sleepy town and hoping my past would leave me for dead.

But someone betrayed me. Now the leader of the most brutal vampire syndicate in the Strangefells is sighting me in her crosshairs. I have no choice but to allow old habits to take over if I have any chance of surviving what my enemies have in store. Something that could destroy the world as we know it.

As the dangers rise and I rebuild bridges from the ashes I left behind, I start to realize that I’ve changed in ways I never saw coming. But can a mercenary eager for redemption hope for victory? Or is death the only thing waiting for me?

remeant (adjective): coming back, returning

You know the situation’s gone awry when you have to talk your way out of the underworld. And this mission isn’t even close to done.

Turns out I’ve been working against the wishes of the Council. And my familiar refuses to keep working with me, which is a whole host of problems on its own…mainly, that it brings Tristan and me closer together. Distractingly so.

When we have to infiltrate the single most deadly lair on this side of the Strangefells for answers, I thought that would be the worst of it. But being surrounded by savage vampires and getting a sneak peek at their gruesome experiments with the ancient magick they’ve uncovered is just the beginning of their end game.

The darkness keeps drawing in and Moreno’s plans, decades in the making, are set in motion. We knew she was devious, but we had no idea how deep she’d embedded herself into our everyday lives. That underestimation might cost us everything.

I’ll do whatever it takes to prevent those monsters, the Ancients, from breathing free air again - sacrifice everything to save the ones I love.

Looks like I’m about to find out if the deal I made with Death is still valid.

Everyone assumes time travel would be a gift… but I wonder if they’d feel the same way if they knew about the strings attached.

The only reason I exist is to help monsters escape from their prison. I’m a construct, forged from the ether and cosmic ash and given human form. My maker? The Titan, Kronos. I’m sure his reputation precedes him.
They never meant for their tool to have a mind of its own, to want a life outside of plotting a prison break from the most notorious dungeon in the seven hells. Tartarus. 

Unfortunately for them, I’m not inclined to help. They got themselves locked away for good reason. At least that’s what I always thought. Now I’m second guessing everything I believed about my mission. The people I knew as allies are looking a lot like enemies, and the men duty-bound to ensure I fulfill my destiny in unleashing the Titans are bringing many emotions to the surface. Not the least of which is a scorching attraction that I can’t ignore. 

What is this connection? Am I being fooled and manipulated, or is the truth altogether different? And if everything I thought I knew is a lie, who’s the real enemy?