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Our eyes met, and for an instant, I saw a flicker of something like recognition in his gaze.

He didn't bother with pleasantries. “Sterling said you were coming.” He nodded to Sean and me. “Said you'd want information on the seals.”

“That's right,” I replied, matching his direct tone. The armed men who'd escorted us in remained by the door, weapons lowered but still at the ready.

Sean shifted beside me, shoulders tense. “And in return, we help you with whatever mess you've got going on in this ghost town?”

Hawk's expression didn't change, but his focus shifted to Sean. “You catch on quick.”

Hawk tossed a folder onto the table between us. It landed with a soft thud, pages spilling out across the metal surface. Grainy surveillance photos, hastily scribbled notes, medical reports. I flipped it open, scanning the contents quickly.

The photos showed people with black eyes, twisted expressions, bodies contorted at unnatural angles. Possession. Not just one or two cases, but dozens. An entire town.

“Demon infestation,” Hawk said, his voice flat. “Started with one. Then it spread. They took the town, and now they're playing cat-and-mouse with us.”

Sean moved beside me, examining the photos over my shoulder. “So why haven't you torched the whole place?” he asked, his tone suspicious. “Trap 'em all inside, exorcise the lot, or burn it down. Why the surgical approach?”

Hawk's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. “Because they're still wearing human skin.” His voice hardened. “Real people. Neighbors. Families. Kids. Most of them are still alive in there.”

I looked at the photos again. The possessed faces. The ordinary people who weren't people anymore. Checkout clerks and teachers and factory workers, all turned into meat suits for demons to wear. My fingers curled at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

Once, that would have mattered to me. The innocent victims trapped inside their own bodies, prisoners to the demons possessing them. Now? I wasn't sure if it did anymore. The thought should have disturbed me. It didn't.

“So what's the plan?” I asked, setting the folder down. “Exorcisms?”

Hawk nodded. “We've been picking them off when we can. Small groups, isolated individuals. But there are too many, and they're getting smarter. Setting traps. Working together.”

“Demons aren't exactly known for their team spirit,” Sean remarked, skepticism clear in his voice. “They hate each other almost as much as they hate us.”

“These ones are different,” Hawk replied, tapping one of the photos. “Organized. Taking orders from someone—or something. We think there's a higher-level demon commanding them, maybe even a Prince.”

The mention of a Prince of Hell made Sean tense beside me. We'd faced one before. It hadn't ended well for anyone involved.

“So where do we come in?” I asked.

Hawk studied me for a long moment, his eyes too perceptive, too knowing. “You'd be surprised what I can see, Cade Cross,” he said quietly. His gaze flicked briefly to where my shirt concealed the sigil burned into my chest since childhood. “The mark you carry... it's changed since your return. Evolved.”

I felt my muscles tighten involuntarily. I hadn't told many people about the mark, and fewer still knew how it had transformed after my time in Hell.

“You're observant,” I said, voice carefully neutral.

“I've been hunting longer than you've been alive,” Hawk replied without arrogance, just stating a fact. “And I've never seen a sigil quite like yours before.” His eyes met mine, unblinking. “It's unique.”

I kept my expression blank, though I felt Sean shift beside me, a subtle movement that communicated his wariness.

“And what exactly does my mark have to do with your demon problem?” I asked.

“From what I've observed, that mark masks your presence from certain types of supernatural entities,” Hawk explained. “They can't sense you coming. Can't prepare. It's why you've been able to get so close to things that should have detected you long before you reached them.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?” Sean interjected, a protective edge to his voice.

“It means Cade can get closer to their base of operations than anyone else,” Hawk said. “They won't detect him until he's right on top of them. No early warning system.”

I studied Hawk's face, looking for deception. Finding none. “And once I'm in?”

Hawk reached beneath the table and pulled out a heavy canvas bag. From it, he extracted an ancient-looking knife, its blade etched with symbols I recognized from my time in Hell. “You kill the commander. Cut off the head, and the body dies.”

“And then you'll tell us about the seals,” I said.