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WhatifLeahad been right about her sister needing more than a demon?Hisprotective instincts were primed as never before, both amping and terrifying at the same time:I’llannihilate whatever threatensPoppy; what ifI. . . can’t?

Hereminded himself that he’d somehow stayed away from his mate for two years, so he figured he could do anything. “I’llhold them off.Run.”

“Youcan’t teleport or travel through your smoke.Youcan’t use your sword.Don’tbe an idiot.”

“Ithink the phrase you’re looking for isgodsdamned demonic hero.”Heeyed their foes for vulnerabilities.Ican snap their necks.IfIcan reach them.

Poppy’shand darted into her bag for another pouch. “I’vegot this.”

“Conserveyour ammo.That’syour last battle magic, right?”

“Youneeded my help against the dolls, and you need it again now.”

“Iwas wearing them down!”

“Bybeing stabbed?”

“Exactly.”Hiswounds hurt, but he would regenerate. “Justsave your pouch.”

Thealiens charged; a beam zoomed past him, bombarding them.Shedidn’t save her pouch.

Theirbodies hurtled backward, injured.Smokerose from the carpet, but it didn’t ignite.Thistime.

Overhis shoulder,Röksaid, “Nospatter!Wecan’t risk a fire.”

“Thenrun with me!”

“Ican handle them.”Asthey rebounded, he drew on his dark half, turning demonic.Hisbody grew hazy, his muscles swelling.Hebared his lengthening fangs, roaring a warning.

Thealiens didn’t heed it, attacking as a unit.Tailsstabbed at him like sword strikes as he evaded.Theirstrength and speed was more than supernatural.Magic-infused?

Buthe was a warrior at the peak of his powers.Hedodged swiping claws to grab one’s unwieldy head.Hetwisted it till pressure gave way, its neck broken.

SNAP.

Thebody hadn’t even collapsed before he’d seized the next alien, dodging its secondary maw to grapple for its head.Thedemon in him craved mindless slaughter, butRökhad learned to control his primal self.Hestudied, reflected, and adjusted, all with a demon’s aggression.

SNAP.

Ah.He’dfigured out their weakness, the pattern revealing itself.Strategy.Allthat remained was implementation.

Dodging.Grappling.Twisting.

Fivealiens soon lay vanquished at his feet, with none of their blood spilled.He’ddefended his mate, had the impulse to plant his boot atop a corpse and pound his chest with a bellow.

“Youtook them all out,Rök.”Theway she gazed up at him as if in awe . . .

Hewould doanythingfor more of that look. “Wecan best these creatures.Nowthat they’re embodied, we can kill them all.”Hadhe made her feel a thread of hope about the future?Rök, though not a warlock, could help her prevail against a mystical curse.

Doubtclouded her expression. “There’stoo many.Humannightmares are limitless.”

“Biteby bite, yeah?We’lldrop them one at a time.”Assoon as he’d spoken, he sensed movement behind him.

Whatnow?Onealien’s spindly fingers clenched and unclenched.Another’stail circled about like a cracked whip.Theybegan to rise, no worse for the wear.

Thatwas bloody unexpected. “Newplan.Weneed to get them to the dungeon.Ican send them to hell—”Theskeletons from earlier materialized behind the aliens.

Whichmeant the visitorscouldn’tbe killed or even cast away.Howto defeat an enemy that would forever rebound?