When the last of it is out there, Ximena’s expression hasn’t changed, but Adriana is aghast. “Auggie. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was…” But I don’t know how to finish the statement. I didn’t say anything because I was in denial, and then I was scared—and I’m afraid to admit it.

“He said he found you to warn you, because you could stop the world from ending?” Ximena summarizes carefully, with a trace of encouraging skepticism.

“He also asked if I’d had, like … weird dreams and lost time?” My tongue is thick as a jellyfish, I’m terrified that this admission will turn Ximena’s attitude around, but the woman just frowns and reaches for her water glass.

“You don’t actually think he was telling the truth.” Adriana has stopped eating. “He’s a vampire! Abuela, tell him he’s being conned!”

“The truth is, Auggie,” Ximena begins flatly, the glass steady in her grip, “you’re probably being conned.”

“Thank you!” Adriana tosses her hands out.

“But … he knew about the dreams—” I begin, and Ximena cuts me off.

“We live under a nexus, kid.” She gestures around us. “We’re at an unbelievably powerful crossroads of spiritual energy, and it’s impossible to overstate the effects of a paranormal flashpoint like this one.” Giving my knee a gentle squeeze, Ximena says, “I wouldn’t worry. Vampires never tell the whole truth, and I think you’d be shocked to know how many people in this town have strange dreams and experiences. He could have guessed anything and had a fifty-percent chance of hitting the bull’s-eye.”

“But why me?” My voice is embarrassingly small. “He was waiting for me. He knew my name.”

She surprises me by countering, “Why not you? I guess you don’t know this, but your aura is unusually strong, mijito. Anyone with some magic in their blood can probably sense it, at least a little. And who knows? Vampires think with their fangs first and their private parts second; maybe he took an interest in you because he thinks you’re cute.”

I happen to like flirting with cute boys. Jude’s words come back to me, and my face goes hot to the tips of my ears. Adjusting my glasses, I mumble, “Okay, maybe, I don’t know. But then why am I having weird dreams? Why did I sense those … energy fields?”

“Maybe you’re a Sensitive, like me.” She gestures again, taking in the art on the walls—landscapes and botanical sketches—reflecting her own element: earth. “With an aura like yours, it wouldn’t surprise me. Vampires can feel you, and now you’re starting to feel them.”