“Tegan and Bentley, I don’t like this. Perhaps we should abort,” Tenn said into our minds.

“NO. I need to know WHO lured us here,” Tegan said back telepathically. “We need them to think we really fell for it. Let them play their cards.”

Lennox cleared her throat and skipped forward like this wasn’t a tense moment. She pointed her wand at the ground and hummed. “Landreia?”

I didn’t know much about Landreia yet, other than that she was my relative’s soulmate and that she was a witch who lived in Salem. She wore all black, her long skirt twirling around her ankles with every step. She held her Wolverine-wands out and flicked them as if she were a conductor at an orchestra.

“Interesting.” Landreia turned toward us. “No fey lines here. They are a few blocks away, so no Unseelies will be popping up at our feet.”

“This is the spot though.” Cooper pushed forward and pointed to the building in front of us. “That’s where I saw Sweyn in my dream. That’s the spot.”

I frowned. Cooper was being awfully obvious with the pointing. Which meant he was doing it for show. I held my hand over my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun and inspected the building in question. It was a three-story with one of those fancy iron railings all the way around the second-floor balcony. All the windows on the upper floors were closed with either thick curtains or boards covering them on the inside. The first-floor storefront had its curtains closed.

Libby moved to stand beside Cooper. She pointed at the building. “Those doors there. They lead to her lair. She had us here a few days ago.”

“So let’s yank the doors open and let some light in.” Bentley rubbed his injured shoulder. “I’d love to get in there and retaliate a little.”

“Jackson, if he’s lying, please scratch your jaw,” Tenn requested in our minds.

Jackson scratched his jaw, and I had to appreciate his skill at being so subtle. “If our psychic says to go in, who are we to argue?”

“Babe, got any devious plans for us?”

She smirked and it was menacing. “I just need a little more time,” she said into our minds.

“Okay, we’re here. What are they doing? Where’s the trap⁠—”

Tenn’s telepathic questions were cut off by a breeze that carried the thick scent of maple syrup. We barely had time to get into a battle formation before a sea of demons poured around the corner. Some ran on four legs, some ran on two, but even more flew on wings. There were dozens of them. They rounded that corner row after row.

It was a stampede made for one thing.

Death.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

SAM

They fell for it. I couldn’t believe they fell for it.