After the blood-soaked chaos at the Titty Twister and the death of his brother Richie, Seth Gecko is a man on the run, haunted by demons both literal and internal. With nothing left but his own fractured morality and a gun that’s seen too much, he finally meets Carlos, the connection who was supposed to save them both.

But Carlos’s offer is different now—more cryptic, more urgent.

He tells Seth of a town not found on any map: Eldersbluff, nestled deep in the backroads outside Dallas. Isolated, eerily clean, and untouched by time, the town appears suspended in the Victorian era. Every man, woman, and child dresses with 19th-century formality—corsets, cravats, top hats, waistcoats—even the paupers carry themselves with the mannered stiffness of a bygone age.

Seth arrives by night, gun tucked beneath his duster, and quickly realizes Eldersbluff isn’t just strange—it’s wrong. The people never age. The town clock ticks backward at dusk. And the rules here aren’t governed by law or bullets, but by something older, colder, and far more patient than any vampire he’s ever faced.

With Carlos gone and no clear way out, Seth must navigate the intricate hierarchy of this timeless town—where secrets lie behind every velvet curtain, and salvation may require a deal even darker than the ones he’s already made.