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“Uhh, what about a gun?” Roman asked.

Tanner explained, as their group began to spread out, moving as a single unit, everyone protecting each other’s backs, “These are Veil monsters. They’re almost impossible to kill.”

Of course—the stones pushed into the heads. Those stones were the same thing he’d seen in the head of the demon that had attacked him at the Facility, the harbor. These demons were smaller, yeah, but they came from the same cursed place: Spirit Terra. The land of the dead.

It made perfect sense—how could you kill something that was already dead?

“We’ll cover you,” Roman said to Ivy. He stalked to a drawer at the kitchen island and took out the pistol he always kept in there. So what if guns wouldn’t work? It was better than empty hands. “It’s better than nothing,” he said to the others as they looked at him in question. “I’m not going up against them empty-handed.”

“Magic works best,” Jack said, his eyes darting between Roman and the monsters creeping closer, teeth bared and hackles raised. “Are you good with your shadows?”

“I’m a Shadowmaster—what kind of question is that?”

“Now’s not the time for egos, guys,” Shay chimed in. She said to the others, “Roman can use them like restraints.”

Jack said, “What about making heads explode?” He chuckled.

Like Darien, Roman added mentally. He’d never done that before—never seen anyone other than Darien use their magic like that.

Darien...and Donovan.

But Roman said, “I can try.”

Kylar drew his own firearm, and Jack pulled a meat cleaver from the knife block by the stove, the wide blade hissing against the wood. He held it up, the steel reflecting his smile. He gave a low whistle, and his jaguar Familiar came out of his shadow, the others doing the same—Sayagul, too.

Ivy said, twisting the blade in her hand, “If you can’t land a hit, just shield. Wait it out.”

Roman met Shay’s stare as the demons crept closer. He hated to ask her this, but— “Shay?”

“I can buy us enough time to get to the second floor,” she said, practically reading his mind. She checked her wrist tattoo like she would a watch, and said, “On the count of three.”

The monsters in the immediate area moved like a pack of wolves, the others that were farther down the hallway scrapping with each other—fighting for the meal they all wanted. They surrounded them on all sides, eyes glowing, mouths dripping with foam, those stones in their foreheads pulsing with the darkest magic. If Roman looked too long, he felt the beginning pangs of a headache between his brows, and his eyes shimmered as if with tears.

“Three,” Shay began, rallying her magic. “Two.”

The demons came closer. Downstairs, furniture broke. Bone snapped. Water splashed, and someone—Loren—screamed Darien’s name.

Shay closed her eyes. A moment later, they shot back open, gleaming like black pits.

“One.”

Loren stood at Darien’s back, shielded by his muscular body as his magic cut into the packs of monsters prowling into the house. There were so many of them, he must have already killed at least two dozen.

But he was tiring—Loren could tell. He’d said something about Venom, but she didn’t know what that meant. Blood streamed down his back from the glass wounds, the lines of crimson gleaming in the trickles of moonlight that barely made it through the fog.

Darien’s hand lashed out, the force of his magic sending three wolflike demons smashing into the wall, their bones breaking on impact. They fell to the floor in a heap, one of them still twitching but paralyzed.

“You okay back there?” Darien said, panting.

“I’m fine,” she gritted out, but her heart was sprinting like mad.

“We need to get upstairs—”

Something charged them from behind—

Fear locked Loren’s muscles in place as two translucent-skinned, vaguely humanoid monsters barreled from somewhere deep in the house.

She stumbled against Darien, felt the dampness of his blood slip across her arm—