Glowing crimson eyes. Long, curved horns rising above hairless heads. Spines jutting from their elbows. Massive wings on thick shoulders. Long, powerful tails with bone-crushing plates on the end.
It was the near-indestructible unbound demon from Halloween—times three.
“First House demons?” Ezra whispered hoarsely. “Three of them? How?”
“In case you didn’t know,” Xanthe purred, “demons can see even in complete darkness. The luminamage can’t blind them.”
I tensed even more.
Xanthe waved a hand in our general direction. “Kill them all.”
The three demons, in almost perfect unison, flexed their fingers. Crimson lit over their claws and veined up their thick arms. Jagged spell circles flared over the demons’ wrists—a different spell for each of them. They lifted their arms, aiming the coming attacks at us.
I dove for the ground. Landing in a roll I’d practiced a hundred times on the mats in Aaron’s basement, I snatched up the Carapace. I was still slinging it over my shoulders as I leaped in front of the demons’ triple attack.
But the cloak wasn’t properly in place around me.
Or maybe I’d pushed the fae artifact too far.
Or maybe the demons’ combined magic was just too much.
“Tori!”
The next thing to register in my awareness was significant pain.
Arms were clutching me. I groaned. Why did everything hurt so goddamn much? And why were my eyes closed?
I wrenched them open. I hung in Ezra’s grasp, Aaron flanking us on one side and Kai on the other. The three demons were straight ahead, and since everyone was basically in the same positions, I guessed I’d blacked out for only a few seconds.
The Carapace, though. It lay on the ground, a tangle of purple fabric that neither sparkled nor shimmered nor did anything remotely fantastical.
Ezra pushed me behind him, and I wavered unsteadily, unsure how or where I was injured. Everything hurt. How much of that blast had the Carapace absorbed and how much of the hit had I taken?
“Stay back, Tori,” he ordered.
I realized he was about to attack. In the instant before he leaped forward, I snatched my combat belt off his sword sheath. Aaron swept after him, the flames on his sword doused but the blade dripping blood. On his heels, Kai darted toward the demons, electricity crackling over his limbs.
Movement flashed past my other side. Alistair, still wielding the war hammer. Girard, his pistols exchanged for handfuls of artifacts. And Darius, who wasn’t bothering to hide himself when the demons could see him anyway.
Farther up the street, crimson power burst and crackled—Zylas and Nazhivēr battling. Zylas couldn’t help us. He had his own deadly opponent.
How could the six mythics defeat three of the most powerful demons that existed?
A battle cry rang out behind me. I flung a glance over my shoulder—and my heart leaped.
Tabitha, Andrew, Laetitia, Lyndon, Ramsey, Gwen, and Drew cut through the debris, weapons at the ready. Bleeding, battered, but ready to join the final fight. They streamed past me and leaped into the chaos, Tabitha and Andrew shouting commands.
For any of them to survive this, we couldn’t count on killing the demons. We had to stop the contractor—but it would take the combined efforts of everyone else just to keep the demons at bay.
Sucking in a deep breath, I scanned the raging battle—Ezra blasting a demon with air blades, Aaron lunging for its flank, Kai peppering it with throwing knives and sending bolts of electricity leaping for its body, each flash accompanied by a thunder-like crack.
Alistair slammed the war hammer into the ground and zigzagging fissures split the earth in every direction. Bubbling lava spewed from the cracks as, a few paces away, Tabitha cast a wave of ice across the legs of the middle demon, freezing its feet to the ground.
I picked my route—and ran into the howling violence.
Ducking Lyndon’s mace as he swung it at Tabitha’s frozen demon. Springing over a lava-filled crevice. Diving beneath a demon’s sweeping wing as it vaulted skyward, crimson power rippling up its arm.
A sphere of red power exploded nearby, hurling me off my feet. I crashed to the ground, rolled, and sprang up again. With a final stumbling leap, I broke through on the other side.
Xanthe stood just ahead, her manic grin wide and gaze darting across the combatants. She could see again, and she was deciding who to take over with her mentalist powers.
Her attention landed on me, and I sprinted toward her, counting the seconds in my head. I had to reach her before she could get her psychic hooks in my brain. The distance between us shrank. Only a few more steps—
I slowed to a stop, four feet between us. I pulled my paintball gun from its holster, then reached for my belt buckle with my other hand. My fingers fumbled over the leather, and the belt dropped to the ground.
Turning the gun, I extended the handle toward her.
She took the weapon and, with a merciless smile, lifted the barrel to point at my face.
Crimson magic detonated nearby. A wave of pebbles and grit blasted over us, and Xanthe gasped, ducking her head and shielding her face. The instant her eyes left me, awareness exploded in my head. My lungs heaved, muscles spasming with adrenaline.
Jerking upright, Xanthe swung the gun loaded with a final shot of hellfire potion toward me. I swept my leg up in a roundhouse kick, and my boot hit the metal gun with a jarring thwack. It flew out of her hand, bounced off the pavement, and skittered away. Fire surged over it as the paintball broke from the impact.
As my foot came down, my fist veered toward her face. My knuckles hit her cheekbone and her head snapped back.
But Xanthe was a Keys of Solomon member, not an amateur combat apprentice.
She whacked my wrist aside, and her other fist drove into my sternum. As I stumbled, agony burning through my chest, her hand
