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heart.
    Christian hugged him, gently but firmly. “I’ll always be with you, my brother.” He broke the embrace, placing his palm over Arthur’s heart. “Right here.”
    Arthur saw that Christian held something under that palm, pressed to his chest. As his brother removed his hand, a square of stiff paper fell and fluttered toward the floor. Arthur scrambled to catch it, nabbing it with his fingertips.
    As he straightened, he found the door open and Christian gone.
    Arthur stepped into the hallway, but there was no sign of his brother.
    He stared down at what he’d caught, a parting gift from Christian.
    It was a black-and-white photo, slightly yellowed, crinkled at the corners. In the background was a rainy pane of glass, and in the foreground two grieving boys gazed into the camera together. Christian held the camera high, and Arthur leaned against him for support, two brothers, blood bonded never to part.
    Christian must have carried the old photo all these years.
    Now, it was Arthur’s.
    To keep now and forever.

 
    C ODA
    S O ENDS THE story of two brothers, bound by blood, forever connected, but on different paths. To delve deeper into the mysteries of the Order of the Sanguines, join Christian as he is called to duty once again—to seek out an angel given flesh on Earth—in an epic adventure of horror and enlightenment entitled Innocent Blood .

 
    Here is a sneak preview of Innocent Blood .
    Coming soon in hardcover
    From
    William Morrow
    An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers

 
    E PIGRAPH
    Behold, God received your sacrifice from the hands of a priest—that is to say from the minister of error.
    — G OSPEL OF J UDAS 5:15

 
    P ROLOGUE
    Midsummer, 1099
    Jerusalem
    A S THE SCREAMS of the dying rose up toward the desert sun, Bernard’s bone-white fingers clutched the cross hanging from his neck. The touch of its blessed silver seared his sword-calloused palm, branding his damned flesh. He ignored the smell of his charred skin and tightened his grip. He accepted the pain.
    For this pain had a purpose—to serve God.
    Around him foot soldiers and knights washed into Jerusalem on a wave of blood. For the past months, the Crusaders had fought their way across hostile lands. Nine out of every ten men were lost before ever reaching the Holy City: felled by battle, by the pitiless desert, by heathen diseases. Those who survived wept openly upon seeing Jerusalem for the first time. But all that blood spilt had not been in vain, for now the city would be restored to Christians yet again, a harsh victory marked by the deaths of thousands of infidels.
    For those slain, Bernard whispered a quick prayer.
    He had time for no more.
    As he sheltered beside the horse-drawn wagon, he drew the rough cowl of his hood lower over his eyes, cloaking his white hair and pale face deeper into shadow. He then took hold of the stallion’s bridle and stroked the beast’s warm neck, hearing the thunder of its heart as much with his fingertips as his ears. Terror stoked the steed’s blood and steamed from its sweating flanks.
    Still, with a firm tug, the animal stepped forward next to him, drawing the wooden cart over the blood-soaked paving stones. The wagon’s bed held a single iron cage, large enough to imprison a man. Thick leather wrapped the cage tightly, hiding what was inside. But he knew. And so did the horse. Its ears flicked back anxiously. It shook its unkempt black mane.
    Ranged in a tight phalanx ahead of him, Bernard’s dark brethren—his fellow knights from the Order of the Sanguines—battled to clear a path forward. All valued this mission more than their own existence. They fought with strength and determination no human could match. One of his brothers vaulted high into the air, a sword in each hand, revealing his inhuman nature as much by the flurry of his steel as by the flash of his sharp teeth. They were all once unholy beasts, like the one caged in the wagon, stripped of their souls and left