“Vampires are tribal, just like humans,” Jude snaps. “Those of us still connected to the Syndics obey a strict code of ethics, but those who fall outside Syndicate bloodlines are free to commit themselves to any cause without any moral principles to get in their way. That’s how deadly factions like the Baeserta sect get started: All they need is a charismatic leader and enough followers willing to do their part.” His thick eyebrows draw together. “No matter what the Syndicate says, there are vampires out there who are convinced that the Corrupter is coming—who believe wholeheartedly that this Rising will be the start of their brave new world. Most of them are Syndic progeny, constrained by our laws, or tiny fringe groups that lack the resources to be considered dangerous—but some are, August.” His eyes dig deep into mine. “We know of two significant cults that have formed around the Corrupter, and they’re coming to Fulton Heights. If they’re not here already.”

My head spins a little as I think about the growing number of dead animals piling up in my neighborhood, the rabbit left in my front yard—about the way that disheveled vampire looked at me right before he jumped through a window—and I glance over at Daphne. “W-what does that mean?”

“It means that even if the Corrupter is as bullshit as the Shield of Baeserta, lots of people could die anyway,” she answers bluntly, her scarf knotted tightly in her fingers. “Assuming, you know, that he hasn’t just been lying through his fangs this whole time.” Turning to Jude, she demands, “What factions? Who are we dealing with?”

But he’s finally had enough. Eyes burning with a low golden light, he growls, “I think I’ve shared everything I’m going to with the Brotherhood of Perseus. You’re obviously familiar with the prophecies, and if you haven’t been lying this whole time, then you’ve got access to your own research. So hit the books—the ones you haven’t burned, I mean.”

“I intend to.” Daphne’s voice is so frigid I could probably skate all the way home on it. “I’m gonna study up on the Corrupter, the Syndicate—and especially on Jude Marlowe.” Looping the scarf around her neck, she shakes out her hair. “Auggie, I don’t know how you got here, but I’m driving you home.”

“I don’t have any books!” The words burst out of me on a wave of panicked anger, and both of them glance over in surprise. “I don’t have access to research or moldy prophecies, but I’m the one that Vampire Santa Claus is supposedly using for a crash pad! So maybe you two can, I don’t know, stuff your ancient enmity for a few minutes and finish telling me what the fuck is going on?”