Husk stood frozen for a moment, the club door swinging shut behind him. The bass thrummed through the walls, muffled now, but the real noise was the echo of his own words—sharp, unnecessary, cruel.

Husk’s ears drooped. The anger drained out of him like someone had pulled a plug. He stared down at the spider demon—louder than life, pricklier than a porcupine, and currently looking like the loneliest thing in all of Hell.