Keep your mind clear, he told himself. He kept shaking his head, trying to focus. But in addition to all the hideousness around him, he had to fight back vile notions of his own: how sickeningly enticing the smell of viscera was, the way the sounds of a woman’s desperate screams stiffened his cock and made him want to stop and watch her being raped by the twisted men who were fighting over her. It’s not you, he thought. It’s fucking Horrorshow. Don’t give in to it. Just remember Olena.

He was still saying that, a mantra, when he came in sight of the hangar. What he saw took away all thoughts but one. Kill it.

The “it” was a creature similar to the canine pack animals that had followed him and Olena out of Talas. It perched on top of the hangar, clawing at the metal roofing. It had one piece bent back already. Marcus dropped his leg-hook and churned toward the canine. He rose and hit the rooftop. His coils zigzagged behind him, and he crashed into the creature full on, slamming it and careening over onto the far side of the roof with it. They rolled together. Marcus managed to get his hands around the creature’s neck and did his best to bash its head against the rusty metal. They just avoided a unit of piping protruding from the roof. And then they went over the edge. Marcus fell partway, but he managed to coil his tail around the piping. He strained to hold on to it as he tightened his grip on the canine’s neck. A moment of incredible pressure, his hands clenched and every muscle in his tail straining, and then he felt the creature’s neck snap as its weight broke it. He dropped it, dead, to the ground, and curved around to check on the damage done to the roof. It wasn’t that bad. Not yet, at least. He did what he could to bend the metal back into shape.

When he was as satisfied as he figured he would be, he looked up. The turmoil all around him went on. The place swarmed with invaders. He thought, Come on, you fuckers. Any of you, try to get in here. The moment he thought it he wanted it. He wanted someone to try it. He’d kill them. More than that, he’d fuck them as he killed them. Maybe he’d do more than that. He’d—

He caught sight of a figure swooping down from the sky. A woman. She dropped down into the center of the refugee camp. The moment she touched the ground, a sword of black fire appeared in her hand.

Marcus knew who she must be. The Midnight Angel. He’d heard she’d been lost in Talas when the first ace team went in. But there she was, still living. The flare of hope this gave him was enough to beat back his crazed thoughts. Maybe there were other aces alive also! He remembered that there was a mission in the works. There was a way to end this. Her being here seemed like proof of it.