I lifted my head, unable to figure out his expression as he wiped at the blood on his face with the back of his hand. Yanking the dagger out, I spun around and jerked to a stop. Nearly fell the fuck over. No way. My fucking eyes were deceiving me, because there was no way Josie was standing right in front of me.

Josie

My grip tightened on the dagger I’d picked up from the . . . the man in white. The man who lay unmoving on the ground with his throat absolutely ripped apart. I could see his trachea. I didn’t even know what a trachea looked like, but I was pretty sure I could see it. Or his larynx. It had only been after I walked past him that I realized he had daggers and I needed daggers.

I felt bad poaching the dagger from him, but it was heavy and warm in my hand as I forced myself forward, knowing I was making the right choice. I was not a weakness that needed to be hidden away.

I was a mother-freaking demigod.

Like a real demigod, not a ready-made microwave dinner like Alex and Aiden. I was, like, a casserole that took all day to be slow-cooked in a Crock-Pot kind of demigod.

I could fight.

I was not weak.

I could hold my own.

As I stared at the bodies on the ground, some moving or crawling, and some with the pallor of death seeping into their skin, I wasn’t entirely sure this was wise, because I . . . I’d never seen anything like this. It was a war zone. Shouts rattled my bones. The metallic scent of blood mingled with smoke. Cries followed my footsteps as my heart pounded.

This wasn’t training. This was real. This was what these people lived under the threat of.

Smoke plumed from burnt patches in the soil. I could see Alex and Aiden, fighting side by side, a dynamic duo—an extremely attractive and agile dynamic duo—and further up, there was a half-naked Seth, standing beside Solos. I twisted to the right, my heart stuttering in my chest. Something stared at me.

Something as white as a sheet of paper, with all-black eyes and teeth that looked like they belonged on a demonic dog.

Holy crap, what in the hell was that? I stumbled back out of surprise and then understanding struck me. A daimon—holy crap, that’s what a pure-blooded daimon looked like! I could see a daimon for what it was now, and oh my gods, they were not pretty.

It sniffed the air like a dog, legs tensing. Then the thing launched off the ground like it had rockets under its feet, coming right at me.

Darting to the side, I spun around as its bare feet kicked up loose soil and dirt. The thing twisted and shot toward me.

This isn’t training. This isn’t training.