on the porch, I yell as loud as I can. "Stay inside!"
I don't know if the house's inhabitant will hear me, but it's worth a shot.
Two of the slummoths break from their formation and come my way. The other three make for the large picture window at the front of the house.
Shit, shit, shit.
I run straight at the pair of demons. They screech at me, froth bubbling from their mouths. They're close together, but if I hit one, the other will flank me.
I have the stupidest idea ever.
I let my arms relax and my swords droop, running at the demons. Ten feet. Five feet.
At the last possible second, I bring both blades up. Throwing myself at the space just between the hellkin, the points of my swords connect with slimy skin. They pierce the slummoths' chins.
Hot pain slices across my middle. I shove my blades farther into the demons' heads, then jerk back.
Gasping, I stumble to the side just as I hear the crashing tinkle that tells me the other three have busted the window.
Hells.
I can feel wetness trickle down my stomach, but I can't let this homeowner get splatted.
I give myself one deep breath, and I jump over the slummoth carcasses and race up the porch stairs, throwing my swords in and diving through the window. I'm lucky there's a couch. I hit it and roll, a crunch of broken glass against my back.
Better back than front right now.
I land a couple feet from my blades. My one recovery breath cost me, and the demons are already up the stairs.
Stairs are about the last thing I want to do right now.
I hurry up them as fast as I can, hopping over a toppled brass floor lamp on the landing, my feet cracking pieces of matte emerald glass. Somehow the bulb survived. The shadows in the stairwell are long and clawlike.
A man's scream cuts the air. The claws are coming for him.
"Lock yourself in a closet or jump out the gods damned window!" I yell, and from the slam of a door, he's listening. The door won't exactly stop the slummoths, but it'll at least slow them down a bit.
I take a minuscule pause and listen. The sound of my own breath is all I hear, and that scares me more than taking on three more demons when I'm already injured.
Slummoths are not quiet.
Demons don't do stealth.
The upper level of the house only seems to hold three rooms and a bathroom. The two guest rooms are untouched, and the slimy footprints on the wood laminate floor go straight to the master suite.
I pretend I don't see the drops of blood falling as I walk forward.
Just as I reach the threshold, something explodes though the window.
Not something.
Carrick.
All three slummoths fall upon him, materializing out of the clawlike shadows. Carrick screams as demon teeth sink into his shoulder. I know that feeling all too well.
I make it the remaining fifteen feet into the room and drop my short sword with a clatter. The hellkin don't look up, and I take my saber in both hands like a baseball bat.
I try to forget the wet pain in my stomach and the sound of Carrick screaming. I don't know where the others are. I hope the Summit is sending backup.
But for now, it's me.
I swing my sword like a bat. One slummoth head goes rolling across the floor, and from the closet behind me comes a surprised thud and gasp. One of the two remaining demons has his teeth sunk deep in Carrick's deltoid. The other pulls bloody claws back from Carrick's ribs and comes at me. His head joins the other on the floor.
I can't decapitate the last one without slicing into Carrick's arm, so I settle for stabbing it through the head. My sword sticks in the slummoth's skull, and his jaw stays locked on Carrick's flesh for an interminable five breaths.
Carrick is unconscious.
Already I can see the slummoth poison inflaming his shoulder, spreading like red lines of a spiderweb out over his chest, speckled with yellow pustules that turn black at the top. Pretty. I should be more worried, but he'll be okay. I think.
Now that I'm not moving, I feel the seeping