rattle.

Delta trips over the coffee table, her body flippin’ back and landin’ hard on the floor. I manage to barely catch myself on the edge of the couch. My wide, scared eyes swing around, notin’ that the last of the sunlight looked like it just got sucked right out of the sky. The sound of somethin’ peltin’ against the window panes starts up, so forceful that I worry the glass is a second away from shatterin’.

“Delta!”

I call to her where she’s still on the floor, sportin’ a wicked gash on her shin. But it’s not the cut that worries me. It’s the wild look in her eyes.

“It’s a storm,” she whimpers before clampin’ her hands over her ears and squeezin’ her eyes shut tight.

It doesn’t sound like any storm I’ve ever heard before.

“Delta!” I say again, but she doesn’t answer me. She just stays curled up on the floor, mutterin’ somethin’ to herself. When another loud boom goes off, I race to the window and yank open the curtain to look out, and the blood drains from my face.

Outside on the street, there’s a line of six demons—I know this, because they’re definitely not human. Every single one of them has camouflage skin and their hands raised in the air, and sickly yellowish-gray clouds seem to be blowin’ out of their palms like pollution that’s gatherin’ above us in the sky. Some kind of hail is pourin’ down from the bilious clouds, but it’s more like fire and brimstone with the way the air is filled with the scent of sulfur.

“Delta...” My throat tightens and fear pulses through my body.

I catch some of the neighbors outside on their porches, lookin’ up to see what the hell is goin’ on. Someone in a car drivin’ by nearly crashes, as some of the bigger hail pelts into the windshield and dents the metal roof. But it’s clear by the way everyone eyes the sky with a bewildered look on their faces that they can’t see the demons on the street and that this all looks like some freak weather storm.

“Delta,” I repeat again. “We need to go.”

As one, all six demons drop their heads and look at me through the window, their eyes emotionless and cold. And then they start movin’ toward the house.

“Shit,” I curse before I slam the curtains shut and whirl around. In one leap, I grab our scythes from the umbrella holder and race over to my sister. “Delta, we need to go! Now!” I shout, my voice barely loud enough over the deafenin’ noises outside.

She doesn’t respond, so I kneel down and rip her hands away from her ears. I’m taken aback by how lost she looks in this moment. I saw a neighbor go into a similar state every Fourth of July when I was younger. It was like the noise just yanked somethin’ traumatic out of him, and he had to go somewhere else until the fireworks were over and the noise stopped settin’ him off.

Delta’s gray eyes are pained and far away, and her breathin’ is fast and shallow. I don’t wanna make things worse for her, but we need to get out of here.

“Delta, listen to me! Demons are out there, and I don’t know how to shift. You have to get us out of here! Please!”

Maybe it’s the desperation in my voice, but her crazed eyes seem to flicker for a moment. “Medley?”

“Yes! We need to go!”

Suddenly, the big window I was just lookin’ out of shatters, and both Delta and I scream, duckin’ our heads beneath our arms to try to fend off the shower of glass that rains down. I feel the glass bitin’ into my skin, and all I can think is, dammit, not again.

I shove Delta’s scythe into her hand and stand up, because I don’t know if she’s mentally capable to get us out of here right now, but there’s no way in hell that I’ll let them take us without a fight.

The curtains billow back as wind rushes in, the air fillin’ with a smoggy, jaundiced color as it pours in the reek of sulfur.

The demons are closin’ in, probably doin’ their best to break whatever demon wards are put on this place. The closer the pollution demons come, the colder I feel and the more black fog rolls over my vision as Tribulation Medley surges up.

Here we go.

24

The first camouflage-skinned demon crawls through the now paneless window like it’s squeezin’ through a small hole. Darkness crawls over my vision, settlin’ like I just put sunglasses on. Everythin’ is a shade darker, and yet, I see the world so much more clearly now, like I didn’t just put lenses on but somehow took my blinders off. I waste no time reactin’. My body and instincts know what needs to be done.

The demon crawls through and makes it waist-deep into Delta’s house, its gangly limbs grippin’ the frame and shards of glass without even a flinch. Without pause, I rush forward and lob its head off in one smooth, practiced gesture.

Before the head even finishes rollin’, another demon starts squeezin’ through the open window frame, and then another, usin’ the dead demon as leverage. I swing again and again, like I’m stuck in a Hellish version of Whack-a-Mole.

Black blood splatters all over the walls and carpet, and I instantly feel bad at what’s bein’ done to this house. It’s plain to see what this place means to Delta, and it enrages me that these demons are destroyin’ it.

Two more camo-skinned, sulfur stinkin’ bodies start to force their way into the house, and even though I only counted six outside, I don’t know if that’s all there is.

From what Delta’s demons said, the Ophidian—aka Morax—is scramblin’ right now. His army has been destroyed, and he’s on the run, but it’s clear from his power he can find minions anywhere, whether they’re willin’ or not. Hell, he nearly had me walkin’ out the door of

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