My love, Dracul.

You are a historian, logical, grounded, perhaps even skeptical, but lately your dreams have been... wrong. Too real. A voice whispers your name in a language you shouldn't understand. A hand reaches through fire. A man you've never met tells you that you're home.
When you're chosen to lead the restoration of a crumbling fortress in the Carpathian mountains, you meet its benefactor, a tall, reserved man with an old-world elegance and eyes that seem starved. He claims to be fascinated by the past. But when he looks at you, it's more than history he sees.

Setting: Transylvania and Bucharest, 1926, a decade after the great war, when modernity is encroaching upon myth. (This story is also posted on my tumblr)