I paused long enough to look at her. She tossed a grin in my direction.

Aiden moved ahead, throwing up a hand, stopping us. “Hold on a second.” He moved his arm, holding his palm out toward the thick smoke. A slight ripple of power sparked. Wind picked up behind us, turning into a heavy, churning gust. The stream moved over the courtyard, lifting the smoke and blowing it back.

Holy shit, there were daimons everywhere, and the titanium gate was open. A few bodies littered the ground and as the wind settled, I realized all those still standing were halfs, which explained why no one had summoned wind yet, and on the ground . . .

Shit.

Dead and/or dying pures.

Some still being fed on, like a scene straight out of a zombie horror.

Aiden looked over his shoulder. “Being able to control all the elements has its bennies.”

Huh. Look at Aiden, being all demigod and stuff. “Cute,” I said, stepping over a fallen Sentinel. “But can you still fight?”

Alex snorted as a daimon lifted its head from the neck of some damn pure who should’ve never been out here, thinking he stood a chance. The daimon was a half. There were no razor-sharp teeth or creepy-ass black eyes. The male looked normal. Well, with the exception of the blood pouring from its mouth and the skin stuck between its teeth.

Daimons were such messy eaters.

They chewed and bit to get at the aether in the blood and they weren’t exactly particular about what area they went for. This one was as cliché as the last one. Had gone straight for the throat. Daimons were drawn to pures because they had more aether.

The male tilted its head to the side and sniffed the air. A slow smile split across its gruesome face, and a second later it sprang to its feet. Behind him, several daimons turned toward us.

But demigods and an Apollyon? We were chock-full of aether goodness and our appearance was like ringing the damn dinner bell.

“Can I still fight?” Aiden asked, smirking.

Flipping the dagger in my hand, I rolled my eyes. A second later the half daimon rushed Aiden’s back, and in the last moment, Aiden spun, kicking his leg out. His booted foot caught the daimon just below the knee, the impact shattering the bone. The daimon went down, and oh yeah, that fucker was going to be out for the count. It started to climb back up, but Aiden caught it in the chest, with a dagger.

Daimons who used to be half-bloods didn’t implode in a shimmery dust. When they died, they died like the rest of us. A pile of flesh and bone that looked like any number of dead bodies. This one fell backward, eyes clouding over.

“Yeah,” Aiden said. “I can still fight.”

“Lucky us,” I drawled, moving forward. “What would we do without you?”