SERIAL

"I was sixteen the first time I was kidnapped by Jack the Ripper."

Three of history's most infamous killers have walked out of their own centuries.

Jack the Ripper. The Boston Strangler. The Zodiac.

They are hunting in Seattle now. In Boston. In San Francisco. In a Bellingham bar they left every soul inside dead, a pink bow tied neatly around a waitress's throat, the Zodiac's cross painted on the wall in long ragged strokes, and two words in a hand that has never been matched.

Dear Boss.

For Detective Jedi Shepard, this is worse than a case. His daughter Faith is alive, held in the Haunted Hollows, a buried labyrinth beneath Whitechapel that was never built, only unsealed. The Hollows do not consume time. They rewrite it. They turn heroes into monsters, and monsters into gods.

He and Taylor O'Dare ride the Quantum Carousel into the gaslight, guided by the man who tore the Rift open, to work the coldest case in history from the inside. Close enough to read the letters as they are written. Close enough to smell the killer.

Close enough for him to smell their fear.

But someone has been directing all of this since 1947.
And the past is hunting us now.