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London. The attack on the Gates of Hell is nothing but a distraction, and an effective one,” Schuyler said. “Lucifer wants the vampires facing the other way. He cares not for the Nephilim, but only for the Gate of Promise, which leads to—”
    Lucas Mendrion put up his hand to silence her. “I told you, I don’t want to know.”
    Schuyler frowned.
    “You are very young and very brave. Very much like your mother. She would be proud of you,” Mendrion said.
    Schuyler ignored him. She had no time for his condescension. “You told Kingsley you knew something about the Gate of Promise, about its creation.”
    “No, I never said that.” He shook his head. “I merely told him of my relationship with Gabrielle, and he must have assumed the rest. Why? What do you want to know?”
    “We have the key to the gate,” Schuyler said, choosing her words carefully. “But we don’t know how to use it.”
    Mendrion studied her thoughtfully. “If anyone might know, perhaps Titiana might. She was assigned to Gabrielle’s protection from the beginning, as I was. They were like sisters.”
    “Where can we find her?”
    “Truth be told, I haven’t seen her in centuries,” Mendrion said, holding his glass to Kingsley for another drop of whiskey.
    “Why? What happened to her? A Silver Blood attack?” asked Schuyler.
    Mendrion shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. Have you heard of the ‘mortalize’ movement?”
    Schuyler nodded. The mortalize movement was a growing trend among the Blue Bloods—vampires choosing to live as mortals—forgetting their history and passing as Red Bloods. She had heard that it happened a lot, especially during the long peaceful years when the Silver Bloods were all but forgotten.
    “I fear that’s what’s happened to Titiana. She’s chosen to turn back against her vampire roots,” Mendrion said.
    Schuyler tried not to feel too aghast. While it had been a burden when she’d first learned her true history and ancestry—she remembered the feeling in her stomach when she was first called to join the Committee—how she had refused to believe it was true—and how she wished she had come from a normal family, and not one where her mother was in a coma and her grandmother was her only link to her past. But to chuck it all away? To pretend to be what you were not? When there was so much at stake?
    Mendrion gave Schuyler a sympathetic smile. “If it helps, I hear that she might be a student at Central Saint Martins. Some sort of fashion designer. Calls herself Tilly St. James.”
    The housekeeper entered the room. “Dinner is ready.”
    Lucas Mendrion turned to the dining room eagerly, but Schuyler cut him off. “I’m afraid I’ve quite lost my appetite. I do hope you understand,” she said coldly. Her meaning was clear.
    There was no room for cowards at her table.

S IX
Mimi
    rom the Underworld Express to the London tube, Mimi thought, holding on to the pole in the middle of the crowded commuter car. She had landed at Heathrow and was headed to Euston Station to transfer to another line that would take her to Edinburgh.
    “All right, yeah?” Danel asked from the other side of the pole.
    He had met her at the airport when she’d disembarked from her flight. It had been a somewhat unpleasant surprise. She’d thought she was to carry out her mission alone, but it appeared that the Dark Prince had other plans. She had merited a bodyguard, it seemed.
    “Jet lag,” she told him. She had felt woozy when she’d crossed through Hell’s gate, and was shocked to find it had only been a few months since she and Jack had disappeared into the underworld. It was January and freezing. Thank God she still had access to her credit accounts. The first thing she did was buy a new winter coat.
    “Jet lag,” Danel repeated with a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Up here, the scar on his face was gone. Was it an illusion? Mimi wondered. Like the disguise she had taken? Or was one’s true form only