In an instant, Jed was out of his chair, reflexively swinging over the balcony railing, his body not giving his brain the opportunity to veto the decision. He dropped ten feet to the courtyard below, rolled out of the fall, and popped  up to his feet. The hooded figure froze in surprise, then waited for Jed to start running before turning to flee. Behind him, Jed heard his teammates calling for him to stop, but their voices seemed so very small and far away. This was all the confirmation he needed. The Dark Ones had burned those innocent villagers to ash and for what? Because they could? Or was it some sort of statement . . . or worse, a field test of a new horrific weapon?

Time to find out.

The hooded Dark One turned left and fled the plaza just before Catedral del Cuzco. Jed pursued the man onto Córdoba del Tucumán road, then bolted after him up a narrow cobblestone alley that ran uphill between two rows of two-story buildings. The northern side of Cuzco was built onto the slope of Pukamuqu mountain. And thanks to the combination of high altitude and slope, he felt himself quickly growing winded. The dark, narrow passage the Dark One had chosen for his escape had been built ages ago when foot traffic, not automobile traffic, dominated the old town. Jed imagined his Silverado’s side mirrors would probably scrape the stucco-covered stone walls. Like other Dark Ones Jed had faced off against, his quarry moved with almost-superhuman speed and endurance, and it took everything Jed had not to lose the man.

So what are you going to do if you catch him? the SEAL inside asked as Jed’s wits returned.

We’re disappearing this guy. Time to play twenty questions, Shepherds style.

The SEAL laughed. Since when has a Dark One ever gone quietly?

All of the capture/kill engagements Jed had participated in as a Shepherd had ended with kills. They’d not managed to take a single Dark One alive. In fact, fighting to the death—with every tooth, nail, and muscle fiber in the body—seemed to be the Dark Ones’ modus operandi. And why not? The demons abandoned their human hosts at the moment of death, so why not use the vessel up completely first?

A hundred yards up the alley, his quarry sprinted past an intersecting alley on the left. Jed was surprised he didn’t turn the corner to escape line of sight, but the man just kept on running straight. Anticipating a possible blindside, Jed pulled his Sig P365XL from the small-of-the-back holster he wore and stopped short of the junction. He dropped into a crouch and readied himself at the corner. Across the alley, a white-and-blue street sign bathed in a shaft of moonlight caught his eye.

Calle Purgatorio.

Purgatorio—Dante’s purgatory.