“What about Uncle Jack?” I asked. “Any contact from him?”

“No.” Frustration tightened her mouth. “I have no idea why. He must’ve reached a safehouse by now.”

I nodded, squashing the question I wanted to ask. Amalia didn’t need me to point out the most likely reason behind her father’s silence.

“He isn’t dead,” she stated firmly, guessing the direction of my thoughts. “I snuck into Tae-min’s office and used his MPD login to see the investigation on your anonymous text. The only bodies they found in our house were the two guys your demon killed. They don’t know who the summoners are or who owns the house. They don’t even know there were two demons.”

That was good. I needed my uncle alive. Despite everything else, I hadn’t forgotten about my mother’s grimoire. It was right at the top of my priority list, along with getting Zylas safely back home.

“Payilas.” Zylas turned away from the window. “As long as Tahēsh wanders freely, you must stay here and blend in, yes?”

“Yes,” I agreed warily.

“Then it is time to hunt.”

My breath caught. “You mean … you want to go after him?”

“He is injured. I want to see how much.”

“But …” I shook my head. “Even injured, he’s too strong. He could kill you.”

He glided closer, staring down at me. “Small and weak ones like us, payilas, we can still kill the strong.”

My eyes widened. Like us. He was smaller and weaker than most demons, and I was smaller and weaker than most humans.

“I can sense it.” His lip pulled up to reveal his sharp canines. “The time of dh’ērrenith.”

Assured victory. I swallowed hard. “Are you certain you want to do this? We don’t have to.”

His smile widened and he leaned down, bringing our faces close. “This time, we will hunt him—and this time, he will feel my claws.”

“Now what?” I whispered.

Hunkered as low as possible, I peered across the sea of rooftops. We were perched on the concrete roof of a six-story building that could’ve been an office complex or apartments, but I had no idea because we hadn’t entered it. Zylas had climbed the outside of the building, carrying me under one arm.

Crouched beside me, he scanned the downtown view, his eyes glowing in the darkness. As it turned out, he could find the other demon if he wanted, though he had to get fairly close before he could detect his adversary’s presence. That had taken us three hours, and it was now past nine o’clock.

“He is on that roof.” Zylas pointed. Four structures filled the city block between us and the similar-sized building where Tahēsh waited. “He is not moving.”

“Is he hurt?” My brow scrunched. “If he was injured, why wouldn’t he heal himself?”

“It is the most difficult vīsh to master. He did not learn it.”

“But you did?”

He cast me his taunting, wolfish grin, then refocused on his prey. I scanned the block, trying to get my bearings. I needed a map.

As I slid my phone out of my jeans pocket, I grimaced. Between rips, stains, and water, I was running critically low on clothing. For our demon hunting excursion, I was wearing a purple zip-up sweater and jeans with a flower embroidered on one hip. On my way out, Amalia had remarked that I looked ready for a hardcore book fair.

I opened the MPD map. Red X’s dotted it—the reports of demonic activity—and I squinted as I worked out where we were and where Tahēsh was. Eyes widening, I lifted my stare to the pale building the demon was parked on.

“The Crow and Hammer guild,” I whispered in disbelief, “is right across the street from Tahēsh. Why is he waiting beside a guild?”

Zylas shrugged. “Something to hunt?”

I remembered the guild master Darius and his comrades. Did they know the demon was stalking their guild? I hoped they were safe.

“Now what?” I asked again.

Zylas hunkered lower, his tail swishing across the gritty concrete. “Ambush him. I will attack from behind, but I must get close. Any closer than this and he might sense me. If I use vīsh, he will know.”

I watched him, unnerved by the wicked cunning in his face as he plotted his attack.

“He might not come down, so I must go to him …” His stare turned to me and his eyebrows pinched together.

I leaned away from his intense assessment. “What?”

His mouth twisted. “You cannot do it.”

“Do what?”

“Get close enough. If I am inside the infernus, he will not sense me, but you would not get close enough—not while he is up high.”

I couldn’t scale the exterior of buildings, but that wasn’t the only way to reach a rooftop. “I could sneak through the interior.”

He considered that, then whipped back to face the distant building. “He is moving!”

A dark silhouette appeared on the rooftop, then broad wings spread. Tahēsh sprang off the building and glided away—in the opposite direction of our hiding spot.

“Where is he going all the sudden?” I demanded.

“If he goes to the ground, it is my chance,” Zylas growled, grabbing me around the waist.

He leaped. I choked back a scream as we plunged over the edge. He dropped down the side of the building and grabbed a windowsill. For an instant, my white face reflected in the glass, then Zylas let go. I clapped a hand to my eyes, holding my glasses in place as we plummeted another story. He jumped the rest of the way down, hit the pavement, and launched into a sprint.

Struggling for air, I yelped, “Stop! Stop!”

He skidded to a halt and I squirmed out of his arm.

“You’re crushing me,” I panted, massaging my ribs.

His tail snapped impatiently. “If you could go in the infernus, this would be easier.”

I decided to ignore that as I stepped behind him, grasped his shoulders, and jumped. He caught my legs and pulled them around his waist—then he was running again. He whipped around the corner and sprinted up the middle of the street. If there’d been cars on the road, he would’ve matched their speed.

One block flashed by, then a second, then a third. Ahead, the buildings separated to reveal a park, where erratic white light was flickering through the surrounding trees. Zylas dashed toward it. A streetlight glowed across a decorative wooden sign that read, Oppenheimer Park.

He sprang over the sidewalk, landed silently on the grass, and ducked into the shadowy trees. Tahēsh’s savage laugh floated out of the park, followed by the thud of a heavy body hitting the ground. I peered through the barren branches of a shrub.

Two vehicles were parked on the grass: a black van and an old red sports car, their headlights illuminating the scene. I blinked, then blinked again as though the sight might change if I focused my eyes differently.

The park was full of people and demons—three men in a cluster, one holding a heavy broadsword; two demons battling Tahēsh; and three other guys, one on the ground. The first three men were in mythic combat gear, but the others wore street clothes. They didn’t even have coats. Civilians who’d gotten caught in the fight?

Tahēsh had already hammered one demon into the ground and he spun, slamming his tail into the other.

Zylas let out a vicious chuckle. “Tahēsh is slow. I will tear him into pieces.”

“You can’t use any magic,” I warned him. “There are too many people. You have to pretend you’re enslaved.”

He grunted irritably—annoyed by the reminder and the restriction. Contractors couldn’t wield their demon’s magic, so even a single demonic rune would betray our secret.

The two non-combat guys had grabbed their friend—who seemed to be unconscious—and were heaving him toward the red car. The driver’s door flew open and a redhaired woman leaped out.

“What’s the plan?” I whispered.

“Wait,” Zylas crooned. “Wait for the right moment.”

Tahēsh and the upright demon were locked hand to hand, and the winged beast pushed into the other demon with superior strength.

“Get up!” one of the geared men yelled. “Get up, get up!”

The downed demon twitched pathetically, its tall, lean body gouged with wounds. It was contracted, I realized. Two of those men were contractors and the third was their champion.

The other group had loaded their friend in the car. Were they leaving? Good. The fewer witnesses, the better for—

“Demon magic! Get back!”

At the champion’s bellowed warning, the contractor team scrambled backward. Crimson magic spiraled around Tahēsh, a circle of runes spreading across the grass as he summoned a spell—something that would shred his opponent and the surrounding humans, who were far too slow to get clear.

“Zylas!” I gasped.

He shot out of the trees. As Tahēsh’s spell blazed, the magic seconds from detonating, Zylas streaked between the two vehicles and charged straight for Tahēsh. Reaching the glowing circle, he sprang, twisted, and landed in a backward skid.

His hand dragged across Tahēsh’s spell, red light flaring over his fingers.