With a furious roar, the monstrous shadow peeled itself off the bridge and unfolded a set of huge, batlike wings that blotted out the night. It opened its jaw wide and bared razorlike teeth, then lunged straight for Rosemary’s throat. With shocking speed, Rosemary hefted a sword and slashed. The demon screeched in pain, raking its talons against the metal blade with enough force to knock it from the woman’s hands. Rosemary stumbled to the ground, and the demon seized its moment. It leaped onto her chest, immobilizing her beneath its massive wings, and hissed. Teeth neared flesh.

“Sariel,” Céline whispered, and stabbed a seraph blade through the demon’s neck. It yowled with pain and whirled toward her, its innards bursting through its hide even as it tried, in its last remaining moments, to attack.

Rosemary heaved her sword and sliced off the creature’s head, seconds before head and torso exploded into a cloud of dust. Satisfied, she collapsed backward, the wound in her shoulder bleeding freely.

Céline could tell how much it hurt—and how determined the woman was to reveal no pain. She knelt by her side. Rosemary flinched away. “Let me see—I can help.”

“I would never ask for help from a Shadowhunter,” the woman said bitterly.

“You didn’t exactly ask. And you’re welcome.”

The woman sighed, then examined her bloody wound. She touched it gingerly, winced. “As long as you’re here, you want to give me an iratze?”

It was obvious the woman was no mundane. Even a mundane with the Sight couldn’t have fought the way she did. But that didn’t mean she could withstand an iratze. No one but a Shadowhunter could.

“Look, I don’t really have the time to explain it, and I can’t exactly go to the hospital and tell them I got gnawed on by a demon, can I?”

“If you know about iratzes, you know that only a Shadowhunter can bear a rune,” Céline said.

“I know.” Rosemary met her gaze steadily.

She didn’t bear the Voyance rune. But the way she had moved, the way she had fought …

“Have you borne a rune before?” Céline asked hesitantly.

Rosemary smirked. “What do you think?”

“Who are you?”

“No one you need to worry about. You going to help or not?”

Céline drew her stele. Applying a rune to anyone who wasn’t a Shadowhunter meant probable death, certain agony. She took a deep breath, then carefully applied stele to skin.

Rosemary let out a relieved sigh.

“Are you going to tell me who sent a Shax demon after you?” Céline said. “And whether it was the same person who made sure an Achaieral demon was here to finish the job?”

“No. You going to tell me why you’re wandering around in the middle of the night looking like someone just drowned your pet rock in the Seine?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. And thank you.”

“That guy who was here with you before …”