“Must’ve been a hell of a dream.” Mr. Strauss leans back, his expression analytical. “The composition is better this time, more interesting. You’ve set the pyre off-center, which creates a dynamic energy, but it’s balanced by the placement of the crowd.” He sweeps his hand in a curve, taking in the onlookers—because, once again, I’ve drawn a mob scene. “I notice you’ve included that same group of women from your last work.”

He phrases the statement like a question, seeking an answer, but I don’t have one to give. Watching the corpse burn is a dense group of spectators, and among them is a trio of figures in black. Something inside me flickers with recognition—except I have no idea what I’m looking at, or why I put it there. “I guess I just … thought it would look cool.”

“The perspective might be the most compelling part of the tableau.” Mr. Strauss cocks his head. “We’re above the scene, looking down—removed, but not distant. Spectators, like the crowd, but not far enough away to escape the ugly details. It makes us complicit. A god’s-eye view.”

“It’s not a god.” I know this much with utter conviction. Somehow, I know I drew this from the viewpoint of whoever was inside that burning body until an agonizing death cast them out. My hands are shaking. “I’m sorry—I have to go or I’ll miss the bus.”

Shoving my things into my backpack, I sprint from the art room for the second time in as many weeks, the acrid odor of smoke still clinging to my clothes and hair.

5

When I get home, it’s just in time for my tutoring session. Daphne is already there, chatting with my mom and pretending not to notice the creepy, blank-eyed rag doll sitting out on the kitchen counter. It belonged to my grandma when she was a little girl, and my mom is convinced it’s a valuable antique. Once a month, she pulls it out and gives me nightmares while researching ways to clean it up without destroying it, in the hopes that she can someday get it appraised.

Once upon a time, that doll was the scariest thing I’d ever encountered. But now? Unless Jude really did somehow work vampire magic on me, making me hallucinate all this stuff, his warning was on the level. Dreams of death? Check. Lost time? Check. Changes in my body? If my new undead-sensing ability counts, then checkity-fucking-check.

The world as you know it, as we all know it, could be coming to an end. And you might be the only one who can stop that from happening. But how? And why?