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Shots go off, and I drop to the floor, slipping in the puddle of my own blood. I want to cover my head with my hands, to turn my face into the plush rug, but I can’t seem to look away from the shadow and what it might do next.

Rationally, I know it’s Eryx disposing of the men one by one, but when I see men unload their revolvers into him without slowing him down, it’s easy to imagine him as something else entirely. The bullets ping to the ground uselessly once his healing abilities force them free from his flesh. I don’t hear the sound, but I see them rolling about the floor, dented on one side from the impact. I know because one stops just shy of the rug I lie atop. I pick it up and squeeze it within my grasp, giving myself something tangible to feel as I behold all the savagery around me.

Eryx picks up a man and snaps him in half over his knee. He pulls another’s arms out of their sockets. He sends a punch into another man’s knee, and I hear the patella shattering before the man goes limp on the ground. Eryx crushes his skull underfoot, and the intruder doesn’t move again.

One by one they fall to him, and I lie there with my head turned to the side, watching it all as if I were still dreaming, only this is surely a nightmare.

Eryx cracks the neck of the last standing man, and everything goes impossibly still.

The lights turn on, though they’re dimmer than before with the chandelier partially ruined above us. Still, the true horror of the situation dawns on me as I see everything in excruciating detail.

The broken furniture, broken bones, broken glass. The oozing blood, oozing brain matter, oozing spittle. At least one man pissed himself before he died, or after perhaps, and another’s face is frozen in a scream in death.

And yet, amid all that carnage, there is beauty, too.

Because I can seehim.

Amber eyes, pointed ears, sharp canines, horns protruding from his skull. He looks so big from where I lie on the floor. He managed only a pair of pants and boots before trudging up all of those stairs. Howdid he even know I was in danger? He’s so far away, clear down in the cellar…

Bullet holes spatter down his front, but instead of blood dripping—

It’s shadow. Black shadows seep from his wounds, pooling at the floor before he tramples them underfoot. Because, yes, he’s moving.

Moving toward me.

He falls to his knees, hands shaking as he looks down at me with amber eyes. I think I might still be whimpering with pain.

Softly, he says, “Can you stand?”

I shake my head vehemently.

“That’s all right. You stay right there, then.” His hand reaches for my injured arm. His horns and fangs retreat as he shifts back to human.

I flinch before he even comes close to making contact.

“Easy,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt you, Chrysantha. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

And, despite everything, I let out a snort. “Me? Afraid of you? Please.”

His puzzled expression looks absolutely comical with his wolf eyes on display. “Then, why—”

“My arm hurts, dammit. I don’t want you touching it!”

He sways backward as though in astonishment at my answer. As he shakes his head at me, as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing, I catch sight of something behind him.

It’s Sarkis. He must have hidden behind the door before Eryx appeared in the room, waiting for his chance. Now he approaches Eryx while his back is turned, the man carrying the thickest sword I’ve ever seen.

More than that, Sarkis looks different than he did before. Are those pointed ears peeking out from his hair? And the barest hint of horns. Not like Eryx’s. No, they’re half the size and an eerie yellow.

I don’t think before the words are out. “Behind you!”

Eryx spins around, his hand seizing Sarkis by the throat.

That sword moves, slashing across Eryx’s chest. More shadows pour from him. Eryx throws Sarkis away from him, and the second man somehow manages to land on his feet, though he loses his sword.

“This ends here,” Eryx shouts as he throws himself onto the other man. Sarkis should be dead. How can he handle all of Eryx’s unnatural strength? But the man blocks his blows and returns some that have Eryx reeling.

At the first injury that should draw blood from Sarkis, shadows flow from him instead.