through the air.

I’m suddenly very glad he came with us.

Gretchen catches my eye. “Get ready.”

She nods, and that tiny bit of reassurance centers me. I shove my heart back down where it belongs and turn to the monsters, focusing my full attention on the enemy.

When I do, one of the monsters—a horrible-looking man with blue-black skin and glistening stains around his mouth—raises one arm and shouts.

“Epitithentai!”

As one, the monster horde roars and charges forward.

Everything happens in a blur. The monsters descend on us, and before I can blink, we’re fighting for our lives—or our freedom. It’s not like they’re clarifying which side of the war they’re on as they’re trying to bite and claw at us.

A golden sheep runs at me, maybe sensing that I’m the weakest opponent here. I’m not so proud that I won’t agree with that assessment—I’m much better with a keyboard and mouse than a dagger.

The sheep seems harmless. I grab a handful of fleece and hold it away from my body, hesitant to hurt the little thing.

With my opponent under control, I try to keep track of everyone else.

Gretchen is taking on two of the biggest monsters, ripping a dagger through the chest of one and giving the other a side kick straight to the . . . groin, I think. It’s hard to tell under all that fur.

Greer does one of her crazy Tae Kwon Do jump-kicks at the head of a creature that looks like the opposite of a griffin—the head of a lion and the body of bird. She knocks it to the ground and pins one wing down with a dagger. I’m in awe. She acts so elegant and proper, but she can kick monster butt.

Nick sends his metal disc flying through the air—it slices through the arm of one creature and the shoulder of another, lodging itself in the chest of a third.

Thane is amazing. Like music in motion, he swings his blade in a rhythmic movement of figure eights. Infinity. He looks lethal and completely comfortable, like he was born to wield this weapon. Clearly my brother is keeping more secrets than I ever imagined. The monsters around him keep their distance, as if they can sense his deadly skill with the sword. My brother, the warrior.

“Grace!” Gretchen shouts. “Those sheep are poisonous.”

“Oh.” I turn back to the creature before me to find it trying to reach around and bite my wrist. “Shoot.”

Still reluctant to hurt the fuzzball—poisonous or not—I’m deciding what to do when Nick appears at my side. He grabs the fleece with both hands and flings the beast into the black.

“Thanks,” I say.

He gives me a quick smile before turning back to the fight.

Then I’m under attack.

A beast tackles me from behind, knocking the dagger out of my grip as I hit the ground. Stupid, Grace. I should have stayed focused on my own fight, instead of worrying about watching everyone else. I feel hot breath on my neck, saliva dripping onto the back of my tee—at least I think it’s saliva. If it were poison, it would probably be burning my skin already—I hope. I try to push up to my hands and knees, but the monster is too heavy. I spot my dagger glinting in the faint green glow about six feet away, out of reach.

Desperate, I scramble. My fingertips slip against the black stone of the ground. The beast’s weight is slowly squeezing the air out of my lungs. I’m trapped.

The monster makes noises against my ear.

He’s not speaking any language I’ve ever heard, but I don’t need an interpreter to know what it boils down to. He’s hungry, and I’m tasty.

With a roar of my own, desperate to not be a monster meal or a disappointment to my sisters, I shove up against the weight bearing down on me. My effort dislodges the creature just enough to give me some wiggle room. I quickly flip over.

It jerks back, like it’s stunned to meet me face to face.

That makes two of us.

Hovering just above me is a giant rooster head. Its body, the heavy part holding me down and keeping me in the cage of its legs, is that of a horse. An image from Gretchen’s monster binders flashes through my memory —a hippalectryon.

The thing outweighs and outpowers me by at least a factor of ten. I’m assuming its tiny bird brain isn’t terribly clever, though, so outwitting the beast is my only chance. I just need to keep my head long enough to make that happen.

While it blinks black, beady eyes at me, I stretch my lips in a wide grin, faking way more confidence than I feel and making sure to flash my fangs as I say, “Hey there.”

At first it doesn’t move, so I twist to the side, stretching my neck to reach my fangs toward its nearest leg.

That jars the creature into motion, and the whole thing rises up on its hind legs, kicking its front ones up like a wild stallion. Before it can stomp back down—and crush me with its massive hooves—I roll to the side, out of the way.

The beast lands with a heavy thud, letting out an ear-splitting crow.

For a second, it looks around, realizing it’s lost me. I do a quick scan for my lost dagger, but I don’t see it anywhere. I don’t have time to look. I’ll have to use my built-in weapons instead.

I scramble to my feet, ready to get my bite in before it finds me again.

“Grace, no!”

Gretchen rushes past me and dives onto the hippalectryon’s back. Before I can react, she sinks her fangs into the feathered neck.

Instead of disappearing out from under her, the thing simply sinks to the ground. It collapses into an unmoving heap, eyes open and unblinking.

Wow. It’s dead. Really dead.

I meet Gretchen’s gaze over the beast’s back.

“You don’t need to be a killer,” she says. Her eyes shadow—with pain or maybe memory. “Try to wound them or knock them out.”

She jerks her head toward the sea of monster bodies left in her wake. When I look closer, I can see most of them are still breathing. I know it really affected Gretchen when she realized she had killed her first monster. I’m sure she doesn’t want me or Greer to experience that.

I smile sadly. “You can’t protect us forever.”

She studies me for a moment before turning away. “I know.”

Then, she’s off, back into the fight, as another creature steps in front of me.

This one looks mostly human—a sickly pale woman with a mouthful of gnashing teeth. A pair of broad, dark wings rises up behind her, almost fading into the green-black of the world around us. But what catch my attention are the long claws extending from each finger, like a set of kitchen knives.

My gaze freezes on her hands. The rest of the battle fades away into the periphery until the only thing left is the dull grunt and clank of other fights and the glinting of green light on blade-like claws.

My dagger is lost to the dark. I have nothing but my fangs and my novice fighting skills to protect me—and what little courage hasn’t fled at the menacing look in her eerie orange eyes.

The winged woman moves toward me, and I have to fight the instinct to back away. Self-preservation is hard to overcome, and I’m on the verge of running. Fleeing.

I feel a hand at my back.

From the corner of my eye I see Greer standing at my side.

“I’ve got you,” she says.

I nod. “Thanks.”

Together, we step forward. Some of my courage returns. With my sister at my side, I know I’m safe. And I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep her safe too.

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