Saturday, Nov. 1, 5:39 pm

“Jessie, no, it’s almost dark,” Jaws bellowed behind her as she bolted out TERRA’s front door.

“Scourge! Scourge, come!” Jessie squinted, trying to keep her Chihuahua’s tiny, fawn-colored body in view as she gave chase, her boots crunching debris and splashing in puddles. “Scourge!”

The little shit didn’t even pause, bark-bark-barking at something Jessie couldn’t see. Countless blocks later, he’d maneuvered so far ahead the only sound she heard was the vivid swearing of the babysitting detail Nate had left her with, hard on her heels.

She ground to a stop, her lungs on fire. She bent at the waist, hands on her knees to catch her breath. Behind her, she heard grunts and more expletives as Dorian slammed into Jaws to avoid plowing into her.

“Shit, girl, you lost your damn mind?” Dorian shoved Jawahar, who shoved him back harder.

Jessie brushed her tears away as she stood. She advanced on Dorian, poking him in the chest. “You were the one who let him out without his leash! What were you thinking? He doesn’t know this area!”

“I’m sorry, alright? I thought he had to pee.” Dorian raised his eyebrows, his deep brown eyes too sincere to stay mad at him. “I’ll help you look for him, honey, but we gonna have to wait till tomorrow now. It’s gonna be dark and all the creepy shit gonna start slithering out the dark places.”

Her heart would not stop pounding. “I can’t leave Scourge out here to fend for himself.”

“Dorian’s right, Jess. We have to get back to the safety of the club immediately.”

She frowned. If she returned to TERRA, she’d be abandoning Scourge after Nate had gone to the trouble to bring him to the club. If she didn’t return, she knew these two would never leave her side for fear of what Nate might do to them. She’d be putting their lives at risk.

She turned away from their stony faces, observing the city in detail for the first time since everything had happened last night. The unusual, purple-hued twilight above the skyscrapers cast a sinister backdrop for the heaved and rubble-strewn avenue. The skyway over Nicollet Mall was completely destroyed, its broken glass and shafts of bent metal sticking up at odd angles. Abandoned cars littered the streets, their windows smashed and hoods collapsed. Smoke and flames licked the growing darkness near Tenth Street, the chalky puddles in the streets reflecting the glow of the fires. Threaded through it all, a choking dust, an awful silence, and the scent of pollution.

Her beloved Minneapolis lay in ruins.

Her heart squeezed. “Okay, we’ll go back to TERRA, but Nate will help me find him in a little while.” He would. Scourge would be okay. So would Gramma and Grandpa.

Nate, where are you?

Her ears strained in the continued silence as Dorian and Jaws flanked her on their walk back to the club, but she didn’t receive even a faint impression of Nate trying to touch her mind.

She should be so mad at him for hocus-pocusing her to sleep like he had, but it seemed so trifling compared to what had happened to the city. He was probably out there doing something dangerous. Like taking on Satan’s offspring. Her fingers reached under the neck of her black sweatshirt to pluck out the delicate rosary necklace he’d given her after they’d made love this morning. Gramma Tillie’s older sister had earnestly prayed the rosary every day, her creased lips silently reciting the words that had been burned into her brain by a tyrannical father. Gramma Tillie had said their father’s exacting dogmatism was why she’d left the Catholic Church and committed heresy in the eyes of her parents by marrying a farm-grown Lutheran boy.

Please let everyone get through this.

In spite of the chill, sweat pooled between Jessie’s breasts. Her fingers flexed and curled. What was out here in the gathering dark? How many people died when the city fell? Were any still trapped? How many more would die tonight? And how long would Nate’s wards sustain Gramma and Grandpa’s house?

A block away from the club, she forced herself to slow her breathing. “I want a weapon. Something that kills demons.”

Dorian ran a hand down his face and shook his head. She couldn’t understand everything he was muttering, but it had to do with castration. Jaws pulled out a pocket flashlight and turned it on, his eyes tracking up and down the littered street. “We’ll get to that later. First, we need to go inside and make a plan. The city’s different now.”

He was right. Besides the obvious physical destruction, she could feel the energy change. Downtown had always been congested and teaming with life. It still felt congested, but not with vibrancy. Instead, it seemed clogged with heaviness. A waiting and a watching. Like there were eyes peering at you from the shadows. A quiver raced up her back, prickling her neck.

When Dorian tried the club door, it was locked. He brought up an elbow, intending to shatter the glass door, but Jaws grabbed his arm. “If you break that glass, you leave everyone inside more vulnerable. The wards work best when there’s a physical barrier. You have a lot to learn yet, Guardian.”

“Can’t you use magic to open it?” Jessie asked.

A spine-chilling scream followed by vicious snarls sounded up the block to the north. Jessie shivered violently and wrapped her arms around her waist. Please never let me see what makes a sound like that. Jawahar turned to Dorian. “Use telepathy to reach out to Stark. He’ll let us in.”

Dorian frowned. “I don’t know how to use it on humans yet, bro. I can barely do it with my own kind.”

The street rumbled, dislodging more chunks of building. A soft breeze blew down the avenue, fluttering flags on downed poles, carrying a fresh, bitter scent that triggered a very primitive response.

“Run!” Jawahar roared. “We’ll be safe in the Basilica!” They bolted down Nicollet toward Tenth Street, picking their way over the debris as fast as they could. Climbing a pile of rubble, Jessie stepped on something soft, then screamed to realize it was a body. Jaws reached back to grab her by the forearm and pull her the rest of the way over the chunks of concrete while Dorian pushed her from behind. Even with Jaws’ industrial flashlight, it was so dark. Seemed like something was right behind her, taunting her. Telling her to hurry if she didn’t want her belly ripped open. Seven blocks and multiple scrapes later on Hennepin Avenue, they stopped to catch their breath near another downed skyway.

Dorian put a hand on her back and called out to Jawahar. Jaws dug something out of his cargo pockets. “Only a few more blocks. Want me to carry you, Jessie?”

A grinding screech came from several blocks away. She shook her head and looked around uneasily. “That’s flattering, Jaws, but I’d give you a hernia.” She was completely disoriented. Her throat tightened, and her chest hurt. “What if Nate’s already dead?” If it was true, all her hope would die with him.

“Stop that negative talk right now, you hear?” Dorian drew out a wicked looking blade, the metal glinting as it twisted in his grip. “If he was dead, your fool self would know. You’re his compar, never forget that.”

Jaws held out a beaded rosary. “Put this in your pocket.”

“Already have one.” She held up her necklace. “Nate didn’t finish explaining what they do.”

“They make a demon think twice about messing with you.” Jaws reached into his pocket again, withdrawing a small oval coin and a silver flask. “You wanted a weapon? This is a St. Michael medallion, keep it with you at all times. If anyone or anything gets too close for comfort, open this flask and splash it on them. If it’s a demon, the holy water will burn and temporarily immobilize it. Let’s go see how that big fancy church fared in this clusterfuck.”

Holy water, medallions, and rosaries. A million questions flared, but there was no time to ask. Jawahar quickly led the way to the historic Basilica of Saint Mary. “Can demons enter churches?” she asked.

“Only if they like to fry.” Dorian laughed. “Those fuckers light up like torches every time someone speaks the words Dei Patris or Jesu Christi.”

Well, that was good to know, but Jessie didn’t find any of this remotely funny. But of course, Dorian was a nearly indestructible Guardian. According to Nate’s explanation, it took a beheading or a demon chowing down on their hearts to actually kill them.

As they drew near the Basilica, Jessie’s pulse kicked up. They ran for cover toward the east side of the massive gray church. It seemed intact, yet something wasn’t right. She couldn’t put her finger on it. “I feel dirty,” she whispered behind Jaws.

He nodded. “There’s more malevolence here than I expected at such a holy site. Dorian, you and Jess go inside. Nate’s probably making preparations. I’ll canvass—”

A powerful snapping followed by a heavy thud poured through the thick air making the darkness lighten to a gauzy purple haze. “What the hell?” Dorian raced from their place of hiding to the front of the church.

Jawahar cursed and turned to her, “Get inside the church as fast as you can. Try one of the side doors first.” Then he ran down the short staircase on the side of the church, across the sidewalk to hide behind a large tree. She dug in her pocket for the medallion and ran around the building trying every door. Dammit. Of course, if there was anyone alive inside the church, they were smart to keep them all locked. It was scary as hell outside with all these unfamiliar noises. Geez. Looked like she’d have to go in the front door after all. She took a deep breath, rounded the corner to the grand entrance…

And froze.

A tall, trim man held out a hand, his palm toward Dorian and Jaws. When his hand closed into a fist, both men dropped like stones.

It was the man at the top of the stairs when Nate had first locked her in the sanctorum. He cut a dashing figure, so incongruous with the demolition around him. There was something magnetic about him, but his charisma wasn’t anything like Nate’s. This was a glistening web. Beautiful, fascinating, deadly. She felt herself drawn to the shiny strands. They were right in front of her. She stumbled down the side stairs, then blinked down at the wetness on her hands and knees. It was red. Why was it red?

Run, Jess!

She floundered for the stair railing. The voice was so loud. Nate? When her fingers clamped on the railing, her gaze slid beyond where Dorian and Jawahar bucked as though being electrocuted on the ground beside the statue of Father Hennepin. Traveled over the man in the suit standing amid a heaved section of road on Hennepin to the boulevard that bisected Hennepin and Dunwoody.

To the black mass on the dead grass—

“Nate!” The scream tore from her lungs to see him lying there so still. “Get up!” She tottered down the remaining stairs, but her legs were so rubbery.

“Jess, get back!” Nate gasped.

A wild sob broke from her lips. Thank God he was alive.

A sleek, red tie was suddenly in her face. “Mistress Jessica, how truly fetching you are. How nice of you to drop by.”

How had he freakin’ moved so fast? His voice sounded cultured, even kind, to her ears. But her soul felt the sound like fingernails down a chalkboard. “H-how do you know my name?” She stepped back toward the stairs. Her best hope right now was getting inside the church.

“I’ve been waiting for you…well, one of your kind…for a long time now.”

“My kind, as in human? Because you’re clearly not.” She looked around for something she could use as a weapon and saw that Nate was no longer lying on the boulevard. She steeled herself not to react. Something moved behind her, she felt the subtle shift of air. Goosebumps tingled up her arms.

“No, I’m not a mortal. I never have been, though I would love to be for just one day so I would know what it feels like. I’d think you creatures would live like every day was your last considering you never know when your time is up. Funny thing, though, because most of you never do.” His gaze drifted down her body as a slow smile spread across his features.

Her stomach pitched as she swallowed back a wash of bile. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, come, surely you’ve pieced this together by now?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re Nate’s compar. He’s a Guardian. You’re a human. It usually doesn’t work that way.”

Her heart rate kicked up another notch. “Why does this matter?”

“Everything the Guardians do is my business.” He spat out the words as though he’d eaten something distasteful.

“Who are you?” And why were you waiting for me?

He extended a hand with a gracious smile that made her skin crawl. “My apologies, miss. I’m Asmodeus, Eighth High Prince of Hell. Pleased to meet you.”

No way.

No. Way. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t consort with demons.”

Asmodeus’ laugh sounded like breaking glass. “Oh, that’s lovely. I wasn’t asking you to be my consort, human.” He laughed again until his gaze heated suddenly. “Though it’s not a bad idea. Nate would have a problem with that, of course, but he doesn’t concern me.”

Everything about this Hell Prince concerned her. “Okay, well, have a nice day then.”

She took another step back and bumped into something solid. She spun around. Half a dozen, tall stony-faced men stared at her with solid black eyes that wept thin lines of watery soot. Dizzy. She was tipping forward. Falling. Cold. So cold. Falling into a pit where black and blue and bloody hands were raised up to catch her. The sounds below…

Snarling.

She screamed as the nearest figure leaned closer, opening his mouth on a lusty inhale as though inhaling her sound.

No, it’s your fear. Goddammit, Jessica, run!

The moment she bolted sideways, Asmodeus fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs—Nate! Get away!—and something warm swooped down from the sky and carried her skyward.