People screamed as winged, scaled demons soared out of the Gate—demons from the Pit itself.

At her building, she yelled at Marrin to get into the basement, along with any tenants he could bring with him. And to call his family, his friends, and warn them to get somewhere secure—the bomb shelters, if they could—and hunker down with whatever weapons were available.

She left Syrinx in the apartment, laid down a massive bowl of water, and took the lid off the food bin entirely. He could feed himself. She piled blankets on the couch, tucking him into them, and kissed him once on his furry head before she grabbed what she needed and ran out the door again.

She raced to the roof, shrugging on Danika’s leather jacket, then tying the Fendyr family’s sword across her back. She tucked one of Hunt’s handguns into the waist of her jeans, shouldered his rifle, and slid as many packs of ammo as she could into her pockets. She surveyed the city and her blood turned to ice. It was worse—so much worse—than she’d imagined.

Micah hadn’t just opened a portal to Hel in the Heart Gate. He’d opened one in every Gate. Every one of the seven quartz arches was a doorway to Hel.

Screams from below rose as the demons raced from the voids and into the defenseless city.

A siren wailed. A warning cry—and an order.

Bomb shelters opened, their automatic foot-thick doors sliding aside to let in those already gathered. Bryce lifted her phone to her ear.

Juniper, for once, picked up on the first ring. “Oh gods, Bryce—”

“Get somewhere safe!”

“I am, I am,” Juniper sobbed. “We were having a dress rehearsal with some big donors, and we’re all in the shelter down the block, and—” Another sob. “Bryce, they’re saying they’re going to shut the door early.”

Horror lurched through her. “People need to get in. They need every moment you can spare.”

Juniper wept. “I told them that, but they’re frantic and won’t listen. They won’t let humans in.”

“Fucking bastards,” Bryce breathed, studying the shelter still open down her block—the people streaming inside. The shelters could be shut manually at any time, but all would close within an hour. Sealed until the threat was dealt with.

Juniper’s voice crackled. “I’ll make them hold the doors. But Bryce, it’s—” Reception cut out as she presumably moved farther into the shelter, and Bryce glanced northward, toward the theaters. Mere blocks from the Heart Gate. “Mess of—” Another crackle. “Safe?”

“I’m safe,” Bryce lied. “Stay in the shelter. Hold the doors for as long as you can.”

But Juniper, sweet and determined and brave, wouldn’t be able to calm a panicked crowd. Especially one draped in finery—and convinced of their right to live at the expense of all others.