When death is inevitable, the passage of time both quickens and slows. It had happened the first time I died, when I felt a bulet rip through my body, and I felt it now. I felt the heat from the flames that raced along the perimeter of the cabin. I felt pain pulsing in my gut. I felt trapped, unable to wiggle the stake more than a few inches in any direction. But what I also felt was regret, anger, sorrow, and relief. It truly was as if a lifetime were passing before my eyes.

Or rather, both my lifetimes.

I hadn't accomplished very much, either as a human or a vampire. What I'd accomplished was death. And as much as I felt I was better than Damon, was I, real y? For in the end, we were both vampires. We both had a trail of destruction fol owing us. And I was so tired. I was tired of fighting when nothing seemed to work out. I was tired of hurting. And I was tired of always being a puppet in Damon's games. We were no longer children, the games had been deadly for far too long, and maybe my death was the only thing that would end our war. If so, I embraced it. I was ready to be consumed by an eternity of flames. That would be more peaceful than the life I'd been living.

The fire was taking its time, dancing along the seam between the wal and floorboards as if it were a cautious beau at a bal . I watched, entranced. The flames were made up of red and blue and orange and, from a distance, they reminded me of the bril iant fal leaves that would soon dot Abbott Manor. I'd never see that again.

Please don't kill them, I thought, thinking of the rest of the Abbott family, frightened, grieving, and so terribly, terribly betrayed. It was a habit, thinking others could read my thoughts. It had sometimes worked with Damon and me, but that had only been because our closeness as brothers meant we often could guess what was on each others' minds. I doubted Samuel and I were on any sort of familiar wavelength that would al ow him to receive a message like that from me. Not that it mattered. Hearing it would only further encourage his thirst for blood.

I didn't care about my own life, but I felt a tiny tug of loyalty toward Violet, who was now off with Samuel somewhere. She was a brand-new vampire, surely confused and overwhelmed. She needed guidance. And not the kind a cold-hearted kil er would give her.

I tried to move my arm, desperate to pul the stake out. A renewed vigor surged through my limbs. I wasn't ready to die. Not until I could save Violet from becoming a monster. I owed her that much after she was denied her choice. I tried to tear the stake from my chest as flames came closer and closer to my body. I heard the sound of the door creak, and I arched into the pain, ready to confront my fate.

"He's in here!" It was a girl's voice.

My eyes snapped open and I saw Violet's sister, Cora, her red hair flaming around her face and dark circles under her eyes. Her pendant swung back and forth from her chest, momentarily mesmerizing me. I closed my eyes again. Just one more person I probably couldn't save. When I was desperate to get Violet out of Damon's clutches, I had abandoned Cora.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the dream-image.

But then, I felt lightness in my chest, from where the chair leg had been. My eyes flew open.

"You almost got yourself kil ed, brother," Damon said. Before I even ful y comprehended what was happening, I felt warm liquid rushing down my throat. I gagged as I realized a red fur carcass was being shoved into my face. It was the limp body of a fox.

"Drink more," Damon instructed impatiently, glancing nervously behind his back. The flames were higher now, having caught onto the wal .

"What are you doing here?" I asked as more blood trickled down my throat.

"Saving your life," Damon said, dragging me to my feet and pul ing me outside and into the forest, just as my tiny cabin exploded into flames behind us. "After you left the party I realized Samuel was the one who must have kil ed Violet," Damon continued. "The blood under his fingernails practical y gleamed against his champagne glass. When I confronted him about it, he said he had a plan in motion, for both of us, and he took off.

Let's just say I decided to not let you die, at least not today. You can thank me later," Damon said, brusquely depositing me on the cool forest floor.

Far in the distance, I heard a cacophony of bel s, screams, and thudding horse hooves. It was just like the siege Father had begun in Virginia. And once again, my brother and I were side by side, sticking together.

"We have to run!" I said raggedly. "Turn left." We didn't have time for a long explanation, but if Damon could have some compassion in him, I thought we could escape anything. I knew the forest better than anyone, and once we got to the center, underneath trees so tal the sky wasn't visible even on a clear summer day, we'd be al right.

Damon picked Cora up and threw her over his shoulder with one hand while half-dragging me with another. We ran over the brook and around a quarry, circling the far perimeter of the Abbott farm, and final y, I brought them to the glen below the Chiltern River. It was a place that would take humans half a day to reach, but with us running at vampire speed, we had reached it in no time. We were safe. At least for now.

"I'm going to find Samuel," Damon said, his face red from exertion. "He needs to know the consequences of his actions."

"Damon, do you know what he's done? He's framed you for the Jack the Ripper murders. The police are getting a sketch of you even now. You can't fol ow him; it's not safe," I said.

"I won't let him get away with this, brother," Damon said angrily. "Stay here. I'm going to see if I can find him." I didn't have the strength to argue with him. I could hardly believe I was alive. I sat down on a rock and cradled my head in my hands. Then I held my hand over my wound. It was shrinking, but it stil hurt, and I felt like there was a tiny heart beating in time to my breath.

"Are you al right?" Cora asked final y, breaking the silence. She was sitting on a fal en tree branch opposite me, nervously biting her fingernails.

I wondered how much she knew about Damon's true nature. But I had no energy to ask questions. I sank back upon the leaves as Cora sat beside me, eyeing me like a hawk. I could hear her heart thumping -  ba-dump, ba-dump - and I sighed in relief. If I could hear her heart, that meant she hadn't turned. She was human. I concentrated on the noise, as reassuring as the raindrops during an April shower.

I had to tel her about her sister.

"Violet . . ." I began.

"How is she?"

I shook my head. "Not wel ," I managed to say. Cora's heart sped up, but her breathing continued to be steady.

"Is she a vampire?" Cora asked, locking eyes with me.

I couldn't lie.

"Yes, she turned," I said. "Samuel forced her."

A flash of hope lit up Cora's eyes. "She did? So she's not dead. Wel , not dead dead. But . . . where did she go?" she asked in confusion.

"Samuel took her," I said. "She didn't have a choice. She must be frightened."

"I'm sure she is," Cora said in a smal voice, twisting her vervain charm around her index finger. "When we were children, Violet used to have to fal asleep with a candle burning al night. She was always afraid of monsters coming to get her."

"She'l get over that soon enough," I said wryly. As a vampire, the dark was soon to become Violet's biggest comfort.

"I suppose so," Cora said, staring into space.

"Are you al right?" I asked.

Cora shrugged. "I hardly know. I was at the party, and Samuel came up to me, and I started shrieking. I didn't know where the sound had come from. I didn't even know that it was me. But he terrified me. And then your brother found me and made me talk. He brought me on the train. I kept praying Violet would be al right, but . . . could she be al right?" she said in a smal voice.

I nodded. I didn't want to give her false hope. "She'l be different. But I can teach her. There are things that make being a vampire less terrible," I said.

"Good." We lapsed into silence. The wound in my chest was shrinking, and far above us I saw the faintest signs of dawn breaking through the inky night. I'd be al right. I'd live to see another day, another decade, another century. But Oliver wouldn't. And where was Damon?

"Damon's taking a long time," Cora said, echoing my own thoughts. "Do you think he'l be safe?"

"Yes," I said. In truth, I didn't know. I was only beginning to become aware of the different and vast expanse of vampires living in the world.

Before, I'd thought I only needed to concern myself with Originals, like Klaus. But there were so many others to be worried about, in ways I'd never considered. "Damon's very good at looking after himself," I said.

A silence fel between us.

Suddenly, I heard a rustle in the woods. I stiffened as the footsteps drew closer, and conversation carried through the trees.

"Anything, men? Nothing over in those bushes?"

I heard the loud barking of several dogs. Footsteps passed nearby and I pushed my back against the rough bark of a tree. Cora squeezed my hand tightly until the group left, spurred on by the manic barking of the dogs.

"They're looking for me," I said, dul y stating the obvious after the last footsteps had long since passed.

"Wel , they didn't find you, did they? That's good news," Cora said in her lilting brogue, attempting a watery smile.

I smiled back. It wasn't much, but it was true. They hadn't found us. Maybe I needed to learn to be thankful for smal miracles.

Final y, as the sun's early rays fel on us, Damon broke through the brush, Oliver's lifeless body in his arms. His face was drawn and a jagged stream of blood trickled from his temple. He was shoeless, his clothes were torn, and he looked nothing like an Italian count or British merchant.

Instead, he looked like the Damon of our childhood who'd spend hours playing in the woods. Except this was a game of life and death.

"I couldn't find Samuel," Damon said, sinking to a rock and sighing. "I tried to revive the child, but I couldn't."

"I know," I said, picking up Oliver's lifeless body. I'd never taken him hunting. I walked a few paces away, toward a grove of oak trees. I glanced at the dark sky, praying for Oliver's salvation.

I tenderly laid the body on the forest floor and went to work creating a smal , shal ow grave. Then, I placed Oliver inside.

"Here lies the best hunter in Britain," I said, a tear threatening my eye. I dropped a few handfuls of dirt inside, and covered that with tree branches.I turned away, not able to look at the grave anymore, and walked toward Cora and Damon, huddled a few feet away.

"What about my sister?" I heard Cora whisper. I saw Damon shrug. I wondered if there was more to the story than he was tel ing. But I wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet.

I lay down on the hard forest floor a few yards away and closed my eyes, al owing sleep to overtake me. Even as my mind drifted toward unconsciousness, I knew the sleep would be rough and raw. But I deserved it. I deserved everything that was coming to me.