“If you’ve ever wondered why Fulton Heights has so many vampires and yet so few vampire-related fatalities, it’s because the Syndicate forbids the unnecessary taking of human life.” Jude stuffs his hands into his pockets. “The punishments for breaking that edict are medieval, because I’ve seen firsthand what happens when humans get scared and start to mount large-scale demon hunts. It goes badly for both sides.”

“Oh wow,” I coo breathlessly. “Your commitment to policing vampires and protecting humans is so dreamy! Can I feel your muscles?”

Jude’s gorgeous face pulls into a frog-like scowl. “That’s not—I’m not trying to seduce you!”

“No, you’re just feeding me a load of Syndicate propaganda,” I return. “You eat people. You’ve got your reasons for wanting to keep some kind of balance between humans and vampires, fine, but you’re not Doctors Without Borders.”

“All ecological systems with hunters and prey require stability for both populations to thrive.” He lifts his chin. “I consume blood; I don’t eat humans.” That feline look creeps back into his expression. “I rather enjoy humans, actually. And biting can be fun for both—”

“Okay, okay!” I stuff my hands in my own coat pockets and punch down, because now he’s looking at where my dick is, and I kind of don’t want him to see it at just this moment.

“But there are many undead who absolutely desire vampire supremacy.” Anything coy about his demeanor is gone in an instant. “They are infuriated by their vulnerabilities, find it intolerable that they must hide among shadows while humans run this world into the ground, and are outraged by the Syndicate’s control. They want a change in the world order, and the ones who believe see the Corrupter as their chance.” A car passes by the side lot, tires hissing against damp pavement. “They are dangerous, August; and for many reasons, we cannot afford to let them get what they want.”

“You’re telling me,” I mumble, but now my cold sweat is starting to break out in a cold sweat—because all I hear is that if the Corrupter is real, Jude’s buddies would rather kill me than let me fall into the wrong hands. “Is there a cure? I mean, if this thing is real?”

He shifts, glancing down. “We’re not sure. As I’ve said, there really isn’t much information available, and the prophecies are incomplete. Our scholars have done research over the centuries, but never particularly seriously. Most of them honestly don’t believe it’s real, and it isn’t knowledge any of us have needed before.”

I reply with a stiff nod. What he’s continuing to not say is We just figured we’d kill you. The easiest “cure” of all.