Cordelia started toward her, but a shadow rose up in front of her, a black shadow with dripping jaws and eyes like red coals. There was no room in her to scream. Her sword whirled in a blazing arc. Gold sliced across shadow: ichor spilled, and she nearly stumbled. She whirled to see that Anna had raced to Ariadne’s side, a long silver dagger in her hand. She plunged it into the attacking demon’s back, and it vanished in a spray of ichor.

More demons surged forward. Anna cast a helpless look at Ariadne lying in the bloodstained grass and turned back with a cry; she was soon joined by others—Thomas, his bolas sailing through the air, and Barbara and Lucie, armed with seraph blades.

A demon lunged for Alastair: Cordelia brought Cortana down in a great curving arc, severing its head.

Alastair looked peevish. “Really,” he said. “I could have done that on my own.”

Cordelia considered killing Alastair, but there was no time—someone was screaming. It was Rosamund Wentworth, who had refused to move from her brother’s side. She crouched over his bleeding body as a demon snapped its jaws at her.

James raced toward her across the grass, seraph blade blazing at his side. He sprang into the air, landed on the demon’s back, and thrust his seraph blade into its neck. Ichor spilled as the demon vanished. Cordelia saw him spin around, his eyes searching the grass and finding Matthew. Matthew, who had a curved blade in his hand, stood by Lucie, as if he meant to drive off any demon who came near her.

James ran toward Matthew and his sister, just as another scream tore the air.

It was Barbara. One of the shadow demons pounced, slamming Oliver to the ground and closing its jaws around Barbara’s leg. She cried out in agony and collapsed.

A second later James was there; he flung himself at the creature on top of Barbara, knocking it to the side. They rolled over and over, the Shadowhunter and the demon, as screams tore through the crowd of assembled Shadowhunters.

Matthew dived forward, executing a perfect midair flip, and kicked out. His boot connected with the demon, knocking it free from James. Matthew landed as James sprang up, seizing a dagger from his belt. He flung it, and it sank into the demon’s side; spitting and hissing, the demon vanished.

And there was silence.

Cordelia didn’t know if the demons had been defeated, or if they had scurried away in retreat or victory. Perhaps they had done all they had meant to do in the way of damage. There was no way of knowing. Frozen in shock, battered and bloody, the group of Shadowhunters who had come to Regent’s Park for an afternoon picnic stared at each other across the bloody grass.