Even if Rasputin thinks rationally, there’s still plenty of horrible things he could do to my parents that won’t leave a mark. He could break their legs, heal them with vampire blood, and then break their legs again—over and over, all to punish me for my insolence. Just thinking about it invites a panic attack … but if I give in to his demands, the world would be irrevocably doomed, and my parents along with it.

My clock is ticking loud enough to have an echo by now, and I’m beginning to feel the entity that’s Rising inside of me—something moving just out of sight. The witches didn’t say exactly what hour I should expect the Ascension, and I exist in a state of constant panic that it will happen too soon, that my big gamble will turn up snake eyes in the end.

On the other hand, they obviously need me present to perform their ritual—whatever its true aims are—and their understanding of how the future unfolds is precise enough to have accurately predicted my movements a week in advance. Maybe if they chose not to tell me something, it means they didn’t need to. Given the many ways my night with Jude and Gunnar differed from the visions I’d had of that same event, I’m finally starting to believe destiny might truly be malleable; that Brixia was telling the truth when she said only fools believe in fate.

Maybe the coven can defeat Azazel after all.

Maybe.

On Friday evening, an hour before sunset, I clean the apartment, set the key on the kitchen counter, and then leave the building for the last time. My hands trembling and my gut tied up in frigid knots, I’m finally on my way back home.

34

Part of the Cook County Forest Preserve, Colgate Woods is one link in a chain of nature areas that meanders throughout Chicago’s suburbs. Crisscrossed by streams and walking paths, it’s a convenient escape from city life, and a vast clearing on its west end—at the base of an overgrown slope separating it from the former industrial sector of Fulton Heights—is a popular spot for picnics. Public and accessible, it’s officially closed after dark, and the only light available comes from the moon.

This is the location I’ve selected for the Corrupter’s final showdown.

The sky is clear and the air is glacial as I watch from the trees, everything clicking into place. Detecting the vampires that gather in the darkness requires no effort now, ghostly whispers scurrying back and forth across my skin, and I stick to the shadows, aware of how quickly the dominoes will fall once I show myself. Undead blood—from a vial Jude filled on Wednesday morning—pumps through my veins, amplifying my senses.