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Probably the fangs,Slate thought grumpily. He dropped the smile.

“I visited the mortal realm,” he began, pulling the chocolate from his sleeve. “And I found?—”

A rustle in the bushes made him stop.

Something twisted inside him, sharp and warning. He had not noticed the lost soul. And he hadn’t noticedthis—not until it was too late.

“Get back,” he hissed.

He pushed the chocolate back into his sleeve and swept Ruby behind him, ignoring her gasp as he turned to face the threat.

“What’s happening?” Ruby whispered behind him. “I can help.”

The dog spirit barked, hackles going up.

Slate shushed them both, the noise thick and chafing in ways he didn’t intend. He couldn’t help it: something prickled in his throat whenever he encountered one of these things.

“Out,” he bellowed. “I see you.”

A low snarl echoed through the trees.

Behind him, Ruby shivered. Her heartbeat sped up, making Slate’s mouth water. But his hunger was an afterthought. Hewas full of protective rage, the likes of which he had never experienced. If he hadn’t been here…

“Out,” he growled. “I command you.”

Another wild snarl. This one tapered into a howl as the shade demon leaped from the bushes, claws bared.

Nine

Ruby cried out a warning as Slate caught the shade demon by its throat.

“Watch out,” she yelled, heart pounding painfully in her chest.

But the demon’s claws had already struck true. Black shadows dripped from the cut on Slate’s exposed chin. But he didn’t make any sound of pain. He only held the shade demon further away, head twisted to avoid its slashing claws.

The dog spirit barked, ready to spring.

“Stay back,” Slate commanded.

Ruby caught the dog spirit by its scruff. It squirmed, whining worriedly as Slate held the demon back.

The shade was bigger up close. Ruby had only seen flashes when the last witch of Sweetsguard took her to see the ward borders: the hint of a forked tail, the sparkle of hollow eyes.

This thing was even bigger than her. It looked like a man stretched to unnatural lengths, his joints twisting and gnarled. Its skin stretched horribly over its bones and its eyes were sunken and black.

The shade demon roared, swiping again at the blood on Slate’s face.

Slate’s grip tightened.

At first, Ruby thought it wouldn’t do anything. Demons didn’t need to breathe, after all. But Slade’s huge hand got tighter and tighter, the shade’s growls quietening until they were nothing more than short, choked noises.

Then the snapping started. First the demon’s neck, its head bending at an unnatural angle. Black goo poured out over Slate’s hand, thick and oily.

Slate squeezed harder. The cracks spread over the shade demon’s body, climbing its face and limbs until it was more cracks than skin.

“Off with you,” Slate growled.

He gave one last squeeze. The shade demon splintered into dust, drifting away on the breeze.