I kept looking and saw at each end of the block, cop cars were angled in, their lights flashing, the cops out, bracing their weapons against hoods and roofs, using the cars as shields.

“Are we sure how long Lilah’s light will hold?” Callum asked.

“We’re not sure of anything,” Abel replied.

“Then incapacitate them and contact The Council,” Callum ordered the phantoms.

They nodded and most floated off.

One remained behind and shared, “The Council is aware of your location. Reinforcements will be here within five minutes.”

“Little late,” Cain muttered.

I sighed.

The phantom drifted away.

“How can they incapacitate them?” Leah asked while leaning heavily against Lucien.

“They feed on energy and sometimes they can be…greedy,” Callum answered. “In this instance, it might make them ill.” He jerked his head to the scene behind us as phantoms swooped down on the motionless supernaturals who then dropped to their sides or backs like they were narcoleptics. “All that negative energy. But they can purge it when they get to somewhere safe where it will dissipate and not infect another being.”

“Ah,” Leah murmured.

Suddenly, Lucien transferred her weight to Callum and stalked off.

We all watched.

Then, noting his destination, we all quickly followed.

He stopped, looking down at his father, who was on his knees.

“Yield,” he whispered.

His father stared up at him, mute.

I gasped as my next vision was Lucien holding Etienne aloft by his throat.

“Yield!” he thundered.

“Neh…ver,” Etienne forced out.

Lucien hauled him to within an inch of his face.

“Then you will burn,” he growled and, with no further ado, tossed his father aside.

Etienne barely landed before I felt Abel’s body jolt.

I whipped around, panic instantly having a stranglehold on me that we had new aggressors.

Then I gawked.

The girl in the pink camisole and polka-dotted pajama pants was hugging my man around the middle.

My heart squeezed.

“Come here, Amelia!” a woman standing on the sidewalk shrieked.

The girl tipped her head way back.

“I’ll never forget you,” she whispered. “Never. I’ll never ever forget you.”

Abel lifted a hand and dropped it to the top of her head.

She grinned. It was weak, it was shaky, but she managed it.

Then she let him go and ran to her mother, leaping over bodies, sliding on blood and gore.

We heard vehicles. Some of us looked one way, others looked the other, and we saw army green Jeeps and sparkling black SUVs angling in behind the cop cars.

“Let’s go home,” Leah said, getting close to her man and hugging him from the side.

He slid an arm around her shoulders.

She reached out and grabbed Callum’s hand.

Callum lifted his other hand and dropped it on Cain’s shoulder.