“The family was happy, et cetera, but then the plague returned to England in 1603, and things went south. By 1607, Jude had lost his father and two sisters, and he and his mother were dying as well. Lucky for him, his piano teacher and secret boyfriend, Rudolfo Sanoguerra, happened to be a vampire.” Settling back against the side of the SUV, Daphne watches snowflakes drift in the yellow light. “Rudolfo Turned the Marlowes to save them from permanent death, but Jude’s mother didn’t survive the transition. So when Jude rose, reborn, he traveled with Sanoguerra back to mainland Europe and ultimately chose to work for the Syndicate. And now here he is today, trying to sell you a crock of shit so he can kidnap you off to Romania.”

“You really think that’s what he was trying to do?”

“I don’t trust anything the Syndicate says or does, so maybe I’m biased, but I don’t buy his story.” Sparks flash in Daphne’s eyes. “The Brotherhood has access to the same prophecies those vampires do. More than they do, if I’m being honest, because those ancient libraries didn’t all burn down completely.” She slides a canny look my way. “Everybody knows the Corrupter Rises every hundred years or so, but the only reason the Syndicate—and these supposed factions, if they actually exist—would take an interest in the legend now is because this year, the so-called Endless One is supposed to Ascend.”

“What does that mean?”

“Rising is just a fancy, mystical-sounding way to describe how the Corrupter returns to our plane of existence. Allegedly, it takes root in a normal person and gestates, during which time the host develops magical capabilities: clairvoyance, telepathy, subtle forms of mind control—”

“Mind control?” I perk up immediately, thinking about all the math homework I’m going to get other people to do for me. I mean, yes, an ancient entity may be taking over my body and so forth, but at least I won’t have to fail algebra again.

“There are also some dubious claims of pyrokinesis and levitation, but—”

“Levitation?” My eyes bulge. “Are you kidding me? Like … you mean I’m going to be able to float? And read people’s minds, and see the future, and … and I don’t know what pyrokinesis is. Some kind of Greek yogurt?”

“The ability to generate and control fire.”

“Seriously?”

“Auggie!” Daphne laughs a little. “It’s not like you’d be turning into a wizard or something. If this is real, if the Rising is really what’s happening, you have an entity slowly regaining its consciousness inside of you.”

The mood in the air darkens so quickly it’s as if the stars are swept out of the sky. Images of Jude—dead, blistered by the plague, the blood in his stomach replicating and spreading—fill my thoughts. “Like what happens to a vampire?”