I’m dropped in a heartbeat, only to get scooped up by Walker’s monster. Fresh rage blasts through me. This slimy monster picked the wrong girl. The Crini wraps two massive arms wrap about my body; a third holds my tail firmly in place.

Dammit, this one’s clever.

Panic zooms through me. I can’t move my arms, legs, or tail. The Crini’s great eyes flip between me and Walker, debating the better meal. Its gaze locks on me. Not good. With a curl of its tentacle, the demon moves Walker away from its mouth. After that, he pulls my head toward its jaws instead.

I writhe and struggle, but it’s no use. The Crini opens its long beak. Green razor-sharp teeth line its mouth. Saliva drips from its huge pink tongue. Everything takes on a dreamlike quality. I seem to float outside myself as the monster drags my head deep within its jaws.

This is it. I’m about to get killed. Somehow I feel numbed instead of terrified.

I wince, my hands balling into fists. I struggle to break loose from the monster’s grip, but it’s no use. All I can do is wait for a CRACK as its teeth sink into my skull.

Instead of biting down, the creature’s jaws loosen. Its tentacle-arms fall slack, allowing me to twist out of its grip. I gain solid footing and scan the Arena.

Holy crap, what happened there? I scope out the Arena’s floor. Lincoln stands nearby, his baculum sword blazing. The Crini lies in two neat halves by his feet. I exhale a long breath, relief filling every cell in my body.

“I owe you one.” I smile.

He grins, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. “I know.”

I chuckle, more than thankful for the smile.

The Prince grabs my hand; his fire-sword disappears. “Walker’s free, let’s get out of here.”

Relief washes over me. Walker’s okay and we can leave! I scope out the stadium floor. Walker stands nearby, his arm gripping his belly, his face writhing in pain. A portal lays open beside him, its shape flickering in and out of focus.

We don’t have long. Walker’s so hurt, he can barely keep a half-portal open. We need to get him help and us to safety. Lincoln and I race toward the opened portal.

A high-pitched scream rattles our eardrums, freezing us both in place. Lincoln winces. “I know that voice.”

“I do too. It’s Adair.” My heart sinks. Why didn’t that high-maintenance dip leave with the Scala?

Squinting, I see Adair standing beside the lifeless hulk of a Manus demon. The creature lays face-down on the Arena floor, its body a mound of bloody wounds and matted black fur.