The sewer tunnel emptied into a drainage ditch on the eastern edge of town, and the team crawled out like drowned rats, one by one.
Cora came first, hauling herself over the concrete lip, her boots squelching. She turned and helped Derek, whose legs were shaking so badly he could barely lift them. Mason followed, his gauntlets steaming in the cold air. Sera came last, her crossbow slung across her back, her phone somehow still dry in her pocket. Lucian brought up the rear, his blades wrapped in cloth, his dark hair plastered to his forehead.
They stood there for a moment, breathing hard, listening.
No footsteps. No voices. No howls.
The demon hadn't followed.
Mason raised a hand, a small blue flame flickering to life. It cast weak light on their faces—pale, exhausted, smeared with dirt and sweat.
"We need to keep moving," he said.
"No one's arguing," Cora replied.
