Spinning, Zylas threw me into a strong pair of arms—Aaron’s. I gawked up at him, his body radiating heat.

A scream of agony pierced my shock. I twisted around—Zylas was gone. He’d vanished back into the haze of smoke to buy us time.

“Go!” Aaron yelled, pushing me ahead of him.

As I stumbled, I realized Ezra, Tori, and Kai were here too. Together, the six of us sprinted up the stairs, Tori leading the way while I raced right behind her. She flung the door at the top open.

Dark shapes—more mythics waiting for us.

Tori punched the first man in the face. Right on her heels, I grabbed her shoulder and shouted, “Ori eruptum impello!”

The silvery dome of my artifact spell whooshed out, blasting the mythics through the wall behind them and into another room.

“Go left!”

At Ezra’s command, we ran left. Ezra sprinted past me and Tori, heading for the tall window at the end of the corridor. With a thrust of his hands, he used a blast of wind to blow out the glass, then sprang through the opening.

Without breaking stride, Tori jumped out after him.

I clutched my backpack and the case of blood. No choice. Praying for a moment of athleticism, I ran for the window and leaped. Barely clearing the sill, I plunged down, no time or breath to scream, then Ezra caught me. He shoved me toward Tori and spun to catch Amalia as she jumped out after me.

Tori caught my shoulders as I collided with her, and the case of blood slipped from my arms. It crashed to the pavement—we were in an alley, the dark asphalt lit by a dim security light.

I let the backpack fall and seized my infernus.

“You—you grabbed it—” Tori gasped, reaching for the metal case.

I scarcely heard her, my attention focused inward. Panic pounded in my head. How long had Zylas been down there, fighting all those mythics by himself?

Daimon, hesychaze!

The infernus vibrated under my hand. A second later, Zylas’s power burst through the nearest wall and launched into the silver medallion. With another flare, he burst back out and reformed into solidity.

I barely had a chance to check him for injuries before he threw me over his shoulder. He grabbed Amalia, and she yelped as he clamped her against his other shoulder.

“Run,” he snarled at Tori.

His urgency pounded through my head—then he was running at full demon speed, or as close as he could get with two passengers. He streaked straight for a chain-link fence, and I felt his muscles coil with power.

He leaped the fence. Three strides, then he bounded onto a van. Another jump, and he landed on a rooftop.

Behind us, the other four bolted down the alley, my backpack over Tori’s shoulder as she fled.

Zylas sprinted across the roof. The edge loomed, and without slowing, he vaulted over it. We plummeted two stories and his feet slammed down on a sidewalk, his knees bending to take the impact. Amalia yelped, struggling to brace herself on his shoulder. Headlights flashed past us—a four-lane road dotted with traffic. A city bus lumbered to a halt at a stop across the street.

Zylas dashed across the asphalt and veered toward the bus. I choked back a shriek as he vaulted onto the roof with a clang—then leaped across the gap, aiming for a one-story building squeezed between two taller structures.

We landed on the roof. Zylas stumbled, his arm briefly crushing my ribcage, then pushed forward.

No way the Odin’s Eye mythics could follow our route. No sign of them behind us. But urgency bordering on fear pulsed through Zylas, and he didn’t slow. Across the roof, leaping down into an alley—

Getting closer.

—careening left, darting across another street—

Closer, closer.

—speeding into another alley, flashing past power poles and graffitied walls—

Too close!

Zylas skidded to a violent stop. Dropping me and Amalia, he whirled around, crimson power blazing over his arms. As I dropped onto my butt, the glow of his magic burned brighter—and another gleam of red magic ignited in the sky above us.

Zylas thrust his hands up, his spell forming a curved shield an instant before a blast of demon magic hit it. Concussive force threw me onto the pavement.

A dark shape plummeted out of the sky.

Zylas leaped sideways and the winged demon slammed into the ground where he’d just been. Nazhivēr straightened, huge wings sweeping out.

Phantom talons glowing over his fingers, Zylas slashed at the demon, forcing him back a step.

Get away!

His silent command cut through my panicked thoughts, and I scrambled up—but before I could retreat, another shockwave from colliding magic hurled me off my feet. Zylas crashed down on his back a few yards away.

Eyes glowing and arms veined with magic, Nazhivēr extended a hand toward the Vh’alyir demon. A jagged pentagon flared around his outstretched fingers.

Daimon hesychaze!

Zylas dissolved into crimson light—and Nazhivēr’s spell struck the pavement. The asphalt shattered, water flooding out of the hole from a broken water main.

The streak of Zylas’s power hit the infernus and bounced out again. He reformed in front of me, knees bent in a defensive half-crouch. Across the alley, Amalia scooted backward toward a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire.

Nazhivēr pivoted toward Zylas, his teeth bared in a grin that was part amusement, part disdain for his pathetic Twelfth House opponent.

Zylas sank lower, then sprang across the distance between him and the larger demon. Attacking instead of defending—because he didn’t want Nazhivēr getting too close to me. I could sense his urgent need to keep Nazhivēr away.

The two demons slammed together, claws flashing. I retreated unsteadily, my heart pounding in my throat. Crimson blazed in Nazhivēr’s palm, a sizzling orb of demonic power. He drew his arm back, aiming for Zylas, and panic jumped through me.

Daimon hes—

Faster than my human brain could comprehend, Nazhivēr flung the orb of power. But not at Zylas.

My vision filled with red light.

Robin!

It hurt. Everything hurt. My whole body. My head throbbed the worst, sharp torment implanted in the back of my skull. Darkness filled my eyes. The air hurt my bruised lungs.

“Robin! Oh my god, please wake up. Please!”

A hand gently patted my cheek, and pain clanged through my skull like strikes of a hammer. I groaned and squinted my eyes open. A blurry face surrounded by blond hair hovered above me.

“Robin!” Amalia’s voice broke on a panicked sob. “He’s going to kill Zylas!”

Adrenaline dumped into my veins and I sat up so fast the whole world spun, my vision flashing with black and red at the agony in my head.

No, not my vision. Crimson flickered and flared in the darkness.

Nazhivēr and Zylas fought in the center of the alley, darting evasions, powerful blows, slashing talons. The larger demon’s wings flared with his strikes, his tail sweeping out for balance.

I didn’t see what happened—what mistake Zylas made. One moment he was dancing away from Nazhivēr’s talons, then he was falling. His back hit the ground—and Nazhivēr pounced. The heavier demon landed with a knee on Zylas’s chest and slammed his fist into Zylas’s head.

My mouth opened in a silent scream. Daimon hesychaze!

Nothing happened.

Zylas drove his six-inch phantom talons into Nazhivēr’s side. Without flinching, Nazhivēr smashed his knuckles into Zylas’s cheek again, ramming his skull into the pavement.