The call came at 3:17 AM.
Isabel woke to the sound of Nathaniel's phone screaming into the darkness, his body going rigid beside her before he even touched the device. Years of danger had trained him to recognize the ringtone of catastrophe.
"Speak," he answered, his voice flat, cold, already preparing for the worst.
Isabel couldn't hear the words, but she saw the change. Saw the blood drain from his face, saw his hand tighten on the phone until the plastic cracked, saw the monster rise behind his eyes until there was nothing human left.
"Where?" he asked.. "How many?"
A pause. Isabel sat up, her heart hammering, her hand already reaching for the knife on her nightstand. Nathaniel had taught her well weapon first, questions later.
"We're coming," he said, and hung up.
"Nathaniel?"
