Vegard’s pale blue eyes darted. “Dammit!”

“It’s a cloak,” I told him.

I drew the pair of swords strapped across my back. The longer my steel, the farther away I could stay from those things. In theory.

“You can see them?” Vegard asked.

“Yeah, I’m just lucky that way.” I centered my attention on the demon that had focused his yellow eyes on me. He grinned. I didn’t.

I felt Vegard’s power building beside me.

“Shield your eyes,” he ordered.

“What are you-”

“Street dust,” he said with a vicious smile. “No cloak is that solid.”

I half covered my eyes, and with a simple gesture and word, Vegard kicked up a dust storm, coating the demons in dust and whatever else was in the gutters. The cloaked demons were still cloaked, but thanks to Vegard’s dirt bath, everyone could see them just fine. I loved a man who could think dirty on his feet.

The demons charged. We spread out to give ourselves room to fight. I claimed a piece of street with a wall at my back. Better a wall than a demon.

“Want some company?” Phaelan’s maniacal grin told me this was the most fun he’d had since last week, when he’d helped blast a hole in the elven embassy.

Phaelan wasn’t the only one who wanted to keep me company. The demon who’d targeted me was closing distance fast. He didn’t have a weapon. Those horns and talon-tipped hands were weapons. When he was within range, I opened his gut with the tip of one of my blades. I expected insides to fall out, not his hand to go into the hole I’d made, making it bigger.

Oh, that wasn’t good.

The demon grinned wider and pulled out a fistful of something you’d think he’d need to keep. The stench was all too familiar.

I was almost too disgusted to move. Almost.

The demon flung it right at us.

“Incoming!” I yelled. I ducked and pulled Phaelan with me.