The jaws mauled Kate, trying to crack her like a nut.

Grisly flesh tore under my fingers. I caught a glimpse of Kate—she’d curled into a ball, keeping away from the teeth.

The tendons I had severed snapped right back together. I needed to cut faster.

We were rising. I glanced down. The draugr had pulled himself up.

“Raphael!” I yelled, slicing across the flesh. “He’s regenerating!” Where was he?

Slayer’s blade sliced through the flesh right in the corner of the joint where the mandible fit into the upper jaw. Slayer’s blade smoked. Kate was trying to cut her way out.

The draugr chewed, trying to work his massive tongue to shift Kate toward his teeth.

Flies blanketed the undead, turning into maggots, eating his flesh. I sliced and diced, the maggots ate, but the more damage we did, the faster its flesh grew back.

Kate groaned. I had to get her out now.

I went furry. Shreds of my clothes fluttered to the ground. I took a short running start up the draugr’s bony shoulder and kicked the temporomandibular joint. The bone popped with a dry crunch, announcing a dislocated jaw. The draugr’s mouth fell open and Kate dropped out.

A huge hand swept me off the shoulder and clenched me, squeezing. I snarled and bit. Pressure ground me. My bones whined. He was crushing me as if I were a rag and he were trying to squeeze all the squishy red stuff out.

The scent of gasoline slapped me.

The pain was unbearable now. My eyes watered from pain and fury.

The draugr gripped me harder.

My shoulder gave and I screamed when my arm snapped like a toothpick.

Something sparked. Through my tears I saw the flare of fire and Raphael, his beast face furious, climbing up the draugr a hair above the flames. Raphael leaped up, clawed his way onto the creature’s face, and tore an undead eye out of the left socket.

The draugr screamed and dropped me, slapping himself, trying to grab Raphael.

I fell. I tumbled down and suddenly something caught me. I saw Ascanio’s face. He dropped me to my feet. Next to me Roman stood, his hands clawing the air, his staff screeching.

Above us the draugr was a pillar of flame.

A furry form jumped off the draugr, hit the tree, and dropped down. Yes! Go, Raphael!

The draugr roared and turned toward us.

Roman strained.

The undead took a slow step toward us. Then another.

“He’s not burning up,” Roman screamed. “I can’t hold him.”

The flame coated the undead’s body, but none of the flesh actually charred. Damn it. Couldn’t he just die?

Roman’s feet slid backward. Raphael landed next to him.

Kate pulled herself upright. “What do we do?”

“We must break him apart and bury him. He is of the Earth, he belongs to it. The Earth will hold him.”