He headed down a short hallway with a red light at the end of it. Crouched over in an attempt to make himself inconspicuous, he kept his right side to the wall. Every few feet, he stopped and listened carefully. At its end, the hallway opened into a large room lit in red like some scene out of Hell. He saw the vats of blood Melody had mentioned, and the dried-out corpses hung from hooks. It was still too dim to see well, so he felt around the walls for the door to the cold room. Eventually, his hand passed over the doorknob. Trying it, he found the room unlocked. He pulled the door back a sliver. Thinking at first the sound that rose up to be the squeal of the hinges, he quickly realized the noise came from upstairs—an animal sound like a wolf or coyote on the hunt. Growling followed it and he knew Crenshaw was on to him. His gun hand started to tremble.

It was freezing in the room and there was only the dim red light shining in through the open door. What initially looked like a duffel bag leaning against the wall stirred. It exhaled a cloud of steam and staggered upright. It was Kiara. He pulled out his phone and pressed the flashlight app. In the glare from it he saw she had a wicked bump and bruise on the side of her face. “My gun is gone,” she whispered.

He heard the Ambrogio pounding down the stairs at top speed. Stuffing the phone back in his pocket, Owen said, “He’s coming.” She made it to his side and they got clear of the freezer just as a blur moved quickly through the red light. Lifting his gun, he pulled the trigger, but the hammer fell on an empty chamber. Kiara pulled him down to his knees at the last second as a clawed hand swept over their heads.

Owen aimed and pulled the trigger again. There was the click of another empty chamber, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Then one more time, just as the creature was upon them. A small explosion and the force of the slug stopped the artist in his tracks. He stood up straight in front of them, and Kiara sprang to her feet. On the ascent, she dealt the predator a stiff right to his jaw and a kick to the side of the head. He teetered backward and splashed into a vat of blood. Kiara grabbed Owen’s hand and they fled up the stairs from the basement. How he wished he could bound right out of the house as he could when traveling the night world. They searched frantically for the hallway on the main floor. When they found it, she worked the chain locks and dead bolts to open the front door while he stood back to back with her, the gun up, its single bullet ready to fire.