I raised my head and saw them, closing in on us from both sides of the lot, eyes bright and feral, hands curled into claws, with dirty faces and wild hair, old and young. They had found the perfect moment, when all of us had our guard down, when we thought we were safe, and they’d set up their ambush. And one thing was very clear: they had no intention of being gentle.

Hands grasped my face, and I jerked away, but they held me fast. “Lela. Look at me. Are you hurt?” Malachi asked. His face appeared in front of mine after I blinked a few times.

“Not hurt.”

His expression was grim, but his eyes were soft. “Good. Get up. And stay close to me.”

“But I can—”

His hands tightened. “They’re here to take you. Stay behind me.” All I could do was nod. His hands fell away from me, and he whirled around to face the threat.

The tinted windows of the SUV were spiderwebbed with cracks, but not yet shattered—until one of the Mazikin slammed a crowbar through the glass. Another did the same on the other side. With crashing blows, they hammered their way from the rear of the vehicle to the front, turning glass into shrapnel as screams once again filled the cramped space.

Malachi and Jim pushed our stunned, disoriented friends to the floor and hunched over them awkwardly, their shoulders pressed to the low ceiling. Malachi had taken off his jacket and thrown it over Laney and Tegan’s heads, revealing the full extent of his preparations for the evening. He drew two throwing knives from the holsters that ran down his sides, but had to close his eyes as he was pelted with shards of glass. As soon as there was an opening, though, his knives were flying to thin the crowd outside. With my ears still ringing, I leaped onto the seat and lunged for the crowbar as it came bashing through the window in front of me, ripping it from the Mazikin’s hands and stomping my shoe right onto the creature’s arm. He yowled and fell away.

“Lela!” Malachi shouted.

“I’m right here!”

I crawled along the glass-strewn seat, slicing my knees to ribbons but terrified to step on my friends with my titanium shoes. All the girls except for me were crouched on the floor, practically in the fetal position, whimpering and flinching. I couldn’t blame them, and I was actually glad they weren’t watching as Malachi hurled the last of his throwing knives at our attackers just beyond the windows. The noise was overwhelming: crunching, rending, shrieking—and growling. Snarling. Snapping. It was like being attacked by a pack of wild dogs, except they were smarter and could wield crowbars.

A hand grabbed for mine from the floor: Laney. She stared up at me with wide doe eyes. “Can you get us out?”