Side by side, they climbed the porch steps.
Victory resettled her grip on her sword, then pushed open her front door. Mikelos kept close to her. With one last glance at the now indistinguishable figures on the other side of the shield, Victory stepped inside.
The familiar foyer stood empty. She glimpsed coats hanging in the closet, through the door Mikelos never remembered to close. Her daywalker slipped inside behind her.
The snick of the door latching shut, a sound she’d heard thousands, millions of times over her decades in this house, should not have sounded as ominous as it did.
A moment to get their bearings was all they were allowed. A throat cleared to the right, from the former great room Victory had converted to a workout studio. She wasted no more time and pushed through the
