They hung from the top of the scoreboard, heads bowed, their arms limp and legs swaying gently. There were a...a dozen of them. Nine dressed in jeans. Three wearing dark blue uniforms.

I stepped back, ignoring the coldness pressing against me. One of them had long brown hair. Wore a white shirt with something blue embossed across the front and jeans. Heart sinking, I looked behind me, finding the pacing man. I swallowed hard.

It was him. One of the missing workers.

“What’s going on?” Dez lingered at the opening.

“I found the missing people.” I cleared my throat. “I’m guessing all of them.”

Dez strode forward, walking straight through an older woman bloated with decay. “What...?” He trailed off, looking up. “Jesus.”

A ghost laughed as another chanted, “Jesus loves me, yes, he does...”

Something fast and pitch-black darted out from the mass of ghosts. A Shadow Person. Dammit. Most ghosts couldn’t do much damage. Wraiths could be a different story, but Shadow People? They could harm and they could kill.

“Watch out!” I shouted, spinning toward the hallway.

“What the—?” Teller’s wings arced behind him as Jordan turned.

Holy crap, they could see the Shadow People, just like demons could.

Teller lifted off the ground, but he wasn’t fast enough. The Shadow slammed into him, knocking him back as it went through him. The Warden fell backward. Lockers rattled as he slid down them, pink mottling his skin as he began to shift into his human form.

“You okay?” Dez shouted.

“Good God,” he gasped, coughing as he maintained hold of his Warden form. “What in the Hell was that?”

“A Shadow Person,” I said, scanning the hall. “It’s gone.” Behind me, one of the ghosts giggled. “I think.”

“I’m fine.” Teller rose to his feet, shaking out his wings. “That was like getting hit by a freight train.” He straightened. “A freight train on fire.”

“At least it didn’t pick you up,” I said, thinking of what one of them had done to Cayman.

“There’s another!” Dez rose into the air. “Coming out the damn wall.”

Spinning toward where he pointed, I caught sight of one peeling its way out of where the wall met the ceiling.

It darted down in a ball, unfurling to its full height halfway to the floor. It landed in the shape of a person, a combination of black smoke and shadow, eyes bloodred, like burning coals.

“I got it.” I stalked forward, summoning my grace. The corners of my vision turned white as the whitish-gold fire spread down my arm, flowing to my hand. The weight of the handle formed against my palm as the blade erupted from sparks and flames.

“That’s also something I’ve never seen before,” Jordan commented from behind.