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That was the worst part. He made no sound. Blood burst out of him in a gush. A banshee emerged, its tentacle hair growing and spreading.

The nearest people screamed, but they weren’t the only ones. Screams and shouts went up across the Night Market.

“Cover your ears!” Adam shouted.

He reached for his earbuds and dropped one.

“Shit!”

Across the market, other banshees began to sing.

The sound wormed its way into his wards like drill bits—no, like jackhammers. He bent to retrieve the fallen earpiece but found his hands not quite working as his head swam and the darkness closed in, commanding him to sleep, pushing him down, insistent and unrelenting.

Adam poured his will into his wards, shoving the song back. For a moment, he held it at bay. It was long enough to grasp the earbud. Swaying, he shoved it into his ear and clicked the button to turn them on.

White noise, like a rush of wind, filled his hearing.

It helped, and with the wards, he could shake off the song’s drowsy weight.

Across the market, others were fighting it but many were fully asleep. The banshees floated over the streets, their heads just above the stalls. They shone, their song a chorus, their hair a bramble of hungry tentacles as they sought victims. Tentacles stabbed and the scent of a dozen species’ blood filled the air.

Adam looked to Joey, who lay slumped and drooling over the counter. Wendy lay prone behind it.

A whisper warned him. He turned to see the hair, tendrils of it, driving toward the stall. Adam leaped and grabbed the shotgun from where Joey had dropped it.

“Hey!” he shouted, charging the banshee where it hovered.

Its pupilless, steely eyes did not react to his approach.

“Never seen one of these, huh?”

Adam took aim and fired, giving it both barrels.

It had been a while, and he’d forgotten about the kick. He hadn’t set his stance, so he fell backward, ears ringing as he landed on his ass.

The banshee exploded, shredded by buckshot. Brine and burned rubber filled the air as thick, sluggish blood rained and splattered the nearby stalls or unconscious shoppers.

Adam wished he didn’t find the sight so gratifying.

Across the market, the song paused, the banshee’s fellows were stunned by its violent death, but only for a moment. As one, they swam through the air, releasing their victims, climbing over the stalls to come and see.

“Crap.”

Adam ran back to the counter and dove behind it, looking for what else Joey might have squirreled away, other weapons, or more shotgun shells, though he wasn’t certain he’d have time to reload.

Three of the banshees were almost to him. They gathered halfway up the street.

Adam was out of time.

It wasn’t like this incident was going to go unnoticed. He’d be dragged before Silver, probably the entire elven court.

Adam closed his hand and called the sword, his sword. He hadn’t dared to try this since Silver had put him on probation

Sensing he was up to something, the banshees unleashed their hair.

The sword settled into Adam’s hand, a familiar weight. He could feel its joy.

“I missed you too.”