Moving with preternatural speed, the demon lord leapt at a forty-five-degree angle, bouncing off the corridor wall like an air hockey puck off a rail directly at Jed. The blow came a split second later, Victor knocking Jed backward with so much force it drove the air out of his lungs before he hit the ground on his back. Not missing a beat, the dark avenger sprang at Eli. The experienced Shepherd managed to squeeze off a three-round burst, but belatedly, and the bullets slammed harmlessly into the opposite wall. Gasping for breath, Jed raised his head in time to see Victor grab Eli by the throat, lifting him in the air and flinging him like a rag. The veteran flew up and backward, slamming into the ceiling first and then the wall so hard his helmeted head went through the drywall, his neck twisting awkwardly. Eli’s limp, unconscious body slid down the wall and slumped into a puddle on the floor.

With a deafening, inhuman shriek so loud and shrill it burned Jed’s eardrums, Victor pounced from where he crouched ten feet away. Like a human-size jumping spider, he flew and landed on Jed’s chest, pinning him to the floor. The demon lord looked down at Jed—eyes twin rings of fire, face morphing like a fun house mirror as a parade of demons showed themselves to Jed. Teeth bared, Victor grabbed Jed’s assault rifle, jerked it so hard the sling broke, and flung the weapon clattering down the hall. Then with machinelike precision, speed, and power, Victor went to work. The blows came in a torrent and all Jed could do was raise his forearms in front of his face. But deflecting the strikes was like trying to block a jet of water from a fire hose—an exercise in futility.