“Whether I personally believe in the Corrupter or not doesn’t even matter,” Daphne finally snaps, mettle sparking in her eyes. “What matters is that there are a lot of incredibly unstable vampires in this world that absolutely do believe in it, and with the kind of foaming-at-the-mouth zeal that makes the Salem witch trials look like a fucking game show.” She takes a step forward, closing the gap between us, her eyes still locked on mine. “You’re not safe, Auggie. That’s what I’ve—”

She doesn’t finish. Her eyes go wide, her head jerking up, and she throws herself backward a split-second before something streaks through the empty space where she was just standing. With a thump and a hiss, an object plunges into the front tire of the compact beside us—a blade of some kind, its hilt sticking five inches out of the thick rubber—and the car shudders as air erupts from the sudden puncture.

Daphne doesn’t even have time to regain her balance before a black-clad figure glides soundlessly over the top of the SUV. Face hidden by a ski mask and tinted goggles, he drops between us with a second blade clutched in one gloved hand. Gleaming viciously under the electric safety lamps is a foot-long katana—and it’s aimed straight at my heart.

10

The sword swings at my neck, and I lurch backward, my feet hitting ice and going out from under me, the blade whistling past by an inch. I land hard, pain shooting through my elbow, and I stare up at my attacker in disbelief. A neoprene bodysuit hugs a wiry but masculine frame, and the gear masking his face makes him look monstrous and surreal. He raises the sword, and I cry out as he prepares to lunge—but that’s when Daphne recovers.

With balletic grace and surprising power, she spins backward and slams her foot into the mysterious ninja’s hip, taking him off his feet. The man hurtles sideways, striking the rear bumper of the SUV and setting off its car alarm before crashing to the pavement, slewing over ice and fresh snow. Ripping her mittens off and wrenching the second katana free from the ruined tire of the compact car, Daphne shouts, “Run, Auggie!”

It’s great advice, but where to? There are still plenty of shadows in this parking lot, and even in my panic I have no reason to assume this actual sword-wielding assassin came alone. I don’t even know what he is, or what kind of friends he might have out there. My skin is crawling again, but I don’t know if that means “vampire,” or if it means a ninja is trying to kill me.