Bartholomew observed the scene of chaos and horror before him. Seven bodies lay on the carpet, covered in bleeding s***h marks. No one was moving. He crouched by the nearest body and examined the wounds. He reached for the mask. As he tugged on it, the head fell apart, gore piling around his knee.
“Jesus Christ!” Bartholomew gasped. “What the hell?” He stood and stared in horror. This wasn’t mere defense. The signal was correct. This spell was illegal. And for good reason. “Damian Spires, I knew this day would come. I knew someday I would have to track you down and beat your ass. I just… didn’t think it would be this soon.”
He looked up and spied the window in the kitchen, currently open. He raced over. Perhaps the bastard merely waited outside, hoping to hide! But when he reached the wi
