Raz sets to work on the window, and it materializes minutes later. I start to tremble and my stomach clenches. I was never the bravest. I hate fighting. But when I have to, I do. Wincing, I step forward.

“One last thing,” Raz stops me, then hesitates. “This is a delicate matter. I don’t wish to cast doubts without proof, but it’s important that you know about the possibility of the threat.”

“What threat?” I grunt.

“The girl,” Raz says softly. “Her piece of the Kah-Gash was originally part of Lord Loss.”

“So?” I ask warily.

“It was in the demon master for a long time. Pieces normally merge with beings who live no more than a few hundred years. They’re influenced by those they share a life with. Having been part of Lord Loss for so long, her piece might have been more affected by the demon than by other hosts.”

“Are you saying…?” I stop, the thought unfinished, not wanting to continue.

“The Kah-Gash could be manipulating the girl,” Raz says. “Perhaps it spared her soul in order to give Death its freedom. Maybe it wants to restore the original universe. Bec is of good heart, but the best of people can be tricked and misused.

“We might be worrying unnecessarily,” Raz concludes. “You may have nothing to fear. But watch her, Kernel. Use those sharp eyes of yours. Look for treachery and be prepared for it. Beware the priestess, Bec.”

Raz leads me through the sub-universe of lights for the last time, then bids me a quick farewell and propels me forward. Before I can yell goodbye, I’m thrust through a window and straight into the middle of a nightmarish war. No time to gather my senses. I have to adapt immediately or die.

I’m in the middle of a city. Blood and corpses everywhere. The air’s thick with the scent of demons, and also with the buzz of magic, which I swiftly tap into. I try to erect a shield around myself but something clatters into me before I can complete it. A beast rolls with me to the ground and comes up spitting. It’s a wolfish creature, long fangs, claws the size of butcher’s knives, hot yellow eyes. It turns, faces me, snarls—then leaps.

I raise my hands to repel the monster, but instead of attacking me, it jumps over my head and tears into something behind, howling with bloodthirsty delight. Whirling, I spot the wolfish beast battling a demon. The wolf rips at the demon’s ribcage, fangs snapping in search of guts.

Wary and confused, I cast my gaze around. There are more wolfen animals on the street and they’re all fighting demons. Soldiers are at work too, tackling the demonic invaders, showering them with bullets. They can’t kill the Demonata but they can injure, disrupt, and stall them.

There’s a burst of magic to my right. I spot a small girl rounding on a demon, frying it with magic until its head explodes and its brains splatter the wall behind it. I’m so pleased to see a familiar face, I forget all about Raz’s warning and call enthusiastically, “Bec!”

She looks up. Her eyes widen with shock, then her lips spread into a smile. She yells something, but as she does, one of the wolf-like beasts wraps its arms around me and howls into my ear, obscuring all other sounds.

I lash at the creature, trying to wriggle free, gathering my energy to fight back. Before I can, the beast laughs and says, “Surely you recognize me.”

I place the voice instantly but can’t believe it. I stare at the creature. He’s two or three feet taller than when I last saw him, and his face is warped—dark skin, lots of blood vessels, tufts of wiry ginger hair, a yellow tinge to his eyes, mouth bigger, teeth sharper. His body is lacerated with cuts and bruises. But it’s definitely—

“Grubbs!” I roar. “What the hell’s happened? You look like a werewolf.”

“I am,” he chuckles. “That’s my pack.” He waves a hairy hand at the wolves. His fingers are twisted and bulging, the nails more like claws. He could probably pop my head one-handed.

“But… how… what…?”

“I’ll deal with this group first and explain later,” he growls, tugging at the waist of his pants. They only just fit him. He’s naked otherwise, chest exposed, rippling with muscles. He’s stained with blood—different colors, so I know it’s demon blood, not his own. Some of the stains are fresh, dripping from his skin and soaking into his hair. But others are caked in. He’s been in the wars since we parted, and he looks like he’s been loving every moment.

As Grubbs pounds away to attack a group of vicious demons, I put my questions on hold and focus on how best I can help. It’s a dirty, messy battle. Normally demons cross singly or in small groups. But there are dozens running riot here. This is no ordinary crossing. It’s the work of a powerful, organized, intelligent foe.

As the battle rages around me, I complete my shield, then focus on the patches of light in the air. A quick check reveals two windows set a few hundred feet from each other. Demons are pouring through both. That suits me perfectly. I might not be a great fighter, but I can turn the tide of this battle single-handed.

Picking a path through the warring forces, I hurry to the nearest window. It’s a large pink panel. Ignoring the demons spilling out of it, protected by my shield, I thrust my hands into the center of the panel and pull at the patches. Within seconds the window pulses, tears apart, then snaps out of existence.

The demons closest to me come alert to the threat I pose. If I can shut down the second window they’ll be stranded, and demons can’t survive long on this world. Screeching for support, they hurl themselves at me. For a split second I think I’m doomed. But then the road explodes at my feet, scattering the converging demons. As they scream, blinded and injured by the flying debris, sheets of fire drop on them from the air, setting them ablaze, sending them thrashing away madly.

I look for my savior and find two angels, Bec and Meera Flame, standing side by side, hands raised, energy flowing through them, wreaking havoc. Meera’s always been a stunner, but she looks more beautiful than ever now, and Bec is no strain on the eyes either. Having said that, I’d probably think anyone who saved my life was gorgeous—even Grubbs!

“Come with me,” I yell at them and press towards the second window. Meera and Bec back me up, blasting the demons ahead of me, calling for support from the soldiers and werewolves.

The smarter demons realize they’re fighting a lost cause. Cursing foully, they dash through the window to the safety of their own universe, driving back those who were trying to cross. More break for the window but get tangled up with each other or waylaid by our forces. Panic sets in. The street echoes with the hysterical wails of monsters who know they don’t have long to live.

A minute later I’m ripping apart the window, and once it dissolves the demons are finished. As magic drains from the air, some of the weaker specimens collapse and rot. The others battle on hatefully, wanting to kill more humans before they die. But it’s hopeless. The bullets from the soldiers’ guns rip them to shreds, and without the aid of magic they have no way of putting their forms back together. They’re torn to pieces. Soon only humans and werewolves are standing. We laugh and cheer, punch the air with fists, then hurry to embrace one another. We might be standing ankle-deep in rancid guts, blood, and other vile juices, surrounded by corpses, but we’re standing victorious—and that feels good!

Grubbs wants to press on as soon as the danger’s been averted. The Demonata and their twisted, human mages have been working flat-out, crossing in waves. This is the fifth city Grubbs and Bec have defended in less than three days. And they’ve already received word of a planned sixth crossing. Grubbs is eager to get there as swiftly as possible, to stop the mage if he can, or prepare for the demons if not.