“It’s less intimidating than it seems.” Jude smiles at me. “We can walk you through it. The ritual is essentially the same from one pact to the next, although the specific steps might vary depending on the participants.”

“Okay.” I force myself to come closer, and they hold out their hands for me, bringing me into the circle. They walk me through the steps, and together we light candles and invoke the elements. A warm glow beats the walls, the air sweet with incense, and the circle floods with energy as I fumble nervously with a sterilized lance.

“Remember: It’s more about the intention than the words,” Jude says softly. “Just speak from the heart.”

Holding my breath, I prick my fingertip, drawing a bead of dark blood. Gunnar makes a noise in the back of his throat, and when I look up, both vampires’ eyes blaze a bright, hot gold. As I squeeze a few drops of the thick fluid into the bowl, I struggle through a basic oath with their coaching. “May the blood I spill tonight signify my intent: to rescue my parents and halt the Ascension. Let those who would share my goal join their will to mine, bind their deeds to their word, and swear their troth by this act.”

I pass the lance to Gunnar, who stares for a speechless moment before pricking his own finger. “May the blood I spill tonight signify my intent: to rescue Auggie’s parents and halt the Ascension. I join my will to his, my deeds to my word, and I swear my troth.”

Jude goes next, his blood mixing with ours, and he repeats the phrase. No sooner has he spoken than the puddle in the bowl turns black. It crackles and sparks, and a plume of smoke rises from it to mingle with the incense, leaving behind only a smudge of ashes.

Something sweeps through me, the thick energy inside the circle dispersing—and I can tell right away the magic has worked. The sensation is exhilarating and terrifying at once, because this was no entry-level spell; once again, I performed real-deal sorcery, something I could only accomplish because of what’s gradually expanding inside of me.

“That’s it,” Jude declares quietly, once we’ve released the elements and closed the circle. “It’s done.”

Gunnar’s eyes still glow, the tips of his fangs showing, and when I catch him staring again, he shrinks back. “I’m sorry, honestly. I didn’t mean to … It’s just … It’s your blood. I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

“It’s the Corrupter.” Jude speaks in a reverent hush, threads of golden light swimming in his eyes as well. “It has to be. He’s so close to the surface, his magic is all the way through you.”

“Oh.” I look down at my finger, at the tiny puncture that hasn’t had time to close, filled with anxious curiosity.