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PREFACE

The only thing in the world that’s constant is war It was an aphorism murmured in the sticky summer of 1864 as the Civil War tore America apart—and it was a truth that had only become more evident in my more than twenty years as a vampire Every tihting hus in India, insurrections all over Europe And once blood had been shed and graves ain

But the war ainst the evil vampire Samuel Mortimer was far different It was a battle without limits After all, soldiers instinctively fear death As van of terror Samuel would surely inflict upon London if he won Evil would run rampant

To the citizens of London, Samuel Mortimer was a member of the city’s political elite But we knew his true nature: He was a fiendish va to destroy for weeks Not only had he fed on the blood of innocent women and tried to kill me, he had framed my brother as Jack the Ripper—a now infaed killer responsible for the Whitechapel

He’d also been one of Katherine’s lovers Katherine, the vampire who’d seduced Damon and me and fanned the flames of discord between us two decades prior, had turned us into the creatures ere Sae It didn’t matter that Damon and I hadn’t been the ones to trap and burn her in the church back in Mystic Falls He would never believe we’d tried to save her Samuel needed someone to pay for her death, and he’d chosen us No matter what, it seemed neither decades nor acy

But this time had been different Her memory hadn’t divided ainst Saed to kill Samuel’s brother, Henry, before the battle had taken a terrible turn, but Samuel had captured Damon I knew he could kill Da keeping Damon froa before Samuel tired of him

I wasn’t afraid to die But, as odd as it was after our years of fighting, I was afraid to live in a world without Damon My brother was callous, rude, and destructive And yet he had savedour time in London He was the one on whom I could count when no one else could be trusted He was all I had

After all, ere bound by blood And if I’d learned anything from my time as a vampire, it was that blood was life Without Da in et him back…

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There was a h my spirit had left un had pierced o in Mystic Falls: a split-second of agony, followed by a blankness that radiated fro

But I wasn’t dead And I wouldn’t let Saht, I took a deep breath and catapulted dalene Asylum Glass shattered around me, and a shard pierced my cheek Blood ran down my skin I didn’t care

“Damon!” I yelled The Asylum was empty—no one would hear ht church service, which had been convenient for Damon and me e set our trap for Samuel

We’d had weapons We’d had plans We’d had the element of surprise And still, we’d fallen short It was as if Saet closer and closer, only to outwit us—just like his alter ego, Jack the Ripper, had done to the Metropolitan Police when he sent theh London

I ran through the city streets at va to listen for shouts, scuffles, even labored breathing—anything that would lead me toAfter all, Damon had saved me from Samuel He deserved the same from me

I ran through Dutfield Park, the overgrown square where Da hunted It would be poetic justice for Samuel to kill hi e But I noticed nothing a of squirrels in the underbrush and the whistling of the wind through barren trees

I ran to the highest point of the park and glanced around in all directions: the elegant dome of St Paul’s Cathedral, the oh the city, the run-down buildings crowding the park Damon could be anywhere

He could already be dead

I ja back to the Asylu It e’d been doing for the past several weeks: trailing Sa ourselves in a worse situation than ever