The silence in the wake of Adena’s story was suffocating. Resent had stared at her for a long moment, then returned control to Rodrigo. Raquel was kicking him under the table, prompting him to say something, but he was at a loss. Assassinating the King of Hell had seemed an absurd fantasy when Adena had first mentioned it. But clearly, with her smokey eyes, glazed over in dark remembrance, this was very real to her. She would never have any semblance of peace until Misery was ash and bone. At least, that’s how Rodrigo would feel.

Leila, who had been quiet the whole time, other than the sound of her nervously tapping her fingers on the table, broke the silence. “I know we don’t know each other or anything, so it might not mean much, but I’m really, truly, sorry for what happened to your family. But...this Misery guy. What exactly is your plan?”

“We’re not there yet,” Adena said. In a startling motion, she sprang out of her chair and onto her feet, the caffeine apparently now in full swing. “I have something to show all of you. I would rather get this done today so we’re better prepared for tomorrow.”

Since everyone was too wired to sleep, they went up to the second floor where two guest rooms had been prepared for them, then continued up another flight of steps. There were several doors, but Adena stopped in front of the first and unlocked it with a key. As she pushed it open, jaws went slack and eyes grew wide. Guns, swords, polearms, knives, and other weapons of all kinds and sizes hung on the walls. Some were on tables and others were on standing racks.

“Welcome to my armory,” Adena said. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, normal weapons have little effect on demons and won’t do anything to the stronger ones. However, these are all either from Hell or have been enchanted. Take some time to pick what you like.”

“Now, when you say enchanted, can you define that? For the kids, I mean,” Rodrigo said in a vain attempt to mask his ignorance on demonology.

“After my fight in the arena, I started taking occasional trips back to Hell with weapons from our world. A necromancer there, who isn’t fond of Misery, strengthens them for me.”

“A necromancer’s abilities revolve around harvesting the souls of the recently deceased,” Resent said. “I suppose if they could pry the aspect granting a demon their Flair from a soul that no longer has use for it, they could imbue a weapon with it.”

Rodrigo was eyeing a basket-hilted cavalry saber, about ten inches longer and with a less drastic curve than his short sword, when he heard Raquel. “How come these bullets are all different colors?”

“With guns, things are a bit more complicated,” Adena said. “Guns aren’t native to Hell as demons have been unimpressed when they’ve encountered them, so it’s not the firearm but the cartridges that are enchanted. I had these cast in specific colors, representing their effects.”

Carlito glanced at the open crate of ammunition. “Red’s fire, blue’s either ice or water, and yellow’s electricity.”

“Points for you.”

“Nerd,” Raquel muttered. “Still, that’s so cool. That means if I got a gun, it’d be like I had powers, too.”

“Raquel, look at the other weapons. You can’t use a gun,” Rodrigo said.

“Wanna bet?”

“If you want to try out a couple of guns with normal rounds, there’s a small target range in the next room,” Adena said, ignoring his objection.

“Raquel, come on, just put the gun down and pick something else,” Rodrigo insisted.

“I could show her how to use it the right way if you’re, like, worried she’s gonna shoot herself,” Leila said.

The truth was, Rodrigo didn’t want Raquel and Carlito carrying weapons. It would encourage them to take risks instead of staying hidden. Then again, that malformed nearly abducted Raquel right off the sidewalk. If he had reacted a few seconds later, she could have been gone forever. At least for a while, they’d be in harm’s way regardless. And a ranged weapon was probably the safest way for a human to take on a demon.

“I guess I’m okay with that.” Rodrigo followed the girls out of the room while Carlito kept browsing the weapons.

As Leila went over the basics of firearms, Rodrigo was glad to see his sister focused and taking it seriously. Despite only being interested in edged weapons, he paid attention, too, just in case there came a time he had to use one. Once Raquel was ready to start shooting, Adena handed them each a pair of safety glasses and earplugs.

“All right, the targets will pop up ten yards from you, five seconds from now,” Adena said as she clicked a red button and a bell rang.

“So how do I do it?” Raquel asked.

“Before you pull the trigger, show me how you’d shoot on your own,” Leila said.

Raquel bent her knees and leaned forward slightly, mimicking Leila’s posture from when she had shot at the malformed. She held the gun in her right hand and closed her left eye.

“Kay, so first, use both hands. You’re not a pro or a character in a movie. And even if closing an eye can increase accuracy, it restricts your field of vision and considering what’s outside, that’s a no-no. Your stance is pretty good, though, so let’s see how you do.”

Raquel opened her eye, cupped her right hand, and squeezed the trigger. The kick of the pistol sent it bouncing upward, but not enough to miss the target completely. She squealed with delight and kept shooting until she ran out of ammo. “How was that, teach?”

Leila nodded in approval. “You’ve got good aim. Even with the recoil you didn’t miss once. That Makarov’s too high a caliber for you, though. Adena, do you have anything more kid-friendly?”

“Try this,” Adena said, handing Raquel a little red box.

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She opened it and out came a sleek black pistol with a pearl white slide. It was resting in a black leather holster. “This is amazing. What kind is it?”

“A custom Beretta Px4 Storm SubCompact. It’s a 9mm and was going to be used by someone younger than you are, so it should be a good fit.” Adena’s face twitched after she said that, and she made her way to the door. “It’s yours now, so take good care of it. Anyway, you should all clean yourselves up and try to get some rest. If you thought today was rough, tomorrow will be a nightmare.”

“I wonder whose gun this was going to be,” Raquel said, after Adena had left the shooting range. Rodrigo couldn’t be certain, but from the pained manner in which she had presented the weapon, it only made sense to have been intended for her brother.

“Who knows,” Leila said, in a sad tone that implied she was thinking along the same lines. She also headed for the exit. “Be back in a few. I need to pick out a new shotgun. Don’t want to carry that pervert’s any longer than I have to.”

“I’ll go with you,” Rodrigo said. The eagerness in his voice just then was cringeworthy, so he tried to gloss over it. “You know, to see what Carlito’s up to. Raquel, no more shooting until Leila gets back, all right?”

Raquel sucked her teeth and scowled at him, but eventually gave a reluctant nod. Just because she knew the basics now and had half-decent aim, didn’t mean he was okay with her shooting unsupervised. Not unless there was no other choice.

Back in the armory, Carlito was nowhere to be seen. Rodrigo’s eyes darted around the room, like his brother was playing hide-and-seek and would turn up crouching behind a weapon rack.

“He probably went to sleep,” Leila suggested, soothing Rodrigo’s mounting panic. “Today’s been...well, I don’t even have the words. But if he didn’t, it’s not like he’d leave the mansion.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He’s not that reckless.” Not like Raquel toting a brand new pistol would be. “What kind of shotgun are you in the market for, anyway?”

“Since regular ammo can’t really hurt the demons, I might as well pick out something in a smaller gauge with a little less kick.”

“It’s crazy how much you know about this stuff.”

Leila put her hands on her hips and gave him the stink eye. “Is a girl knowing about guns really that big of a shocker to you?”

Rodrigo took an involuntary step back. “N-no, that’s not what I—”

Leila cracked a smile before he could finish. “Relax, I’m just playing. I know unlike Adena, I don’t seem the type. But growing up, my dad made plenty of time to teach me and Hannah how to defend ourselves.”

And that was when it dawned on Rodrigo that not once had he stopped to question why Leila was so proficient with guns. Based on what he remembered of her family from his elementary school days, it just seemed fitting. “He was a soldier back in Lebanon, right?”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise at his memory. “Yeah. The Lebanese Armed Forces. Back when he and my mom were living there it was mandatory for guys once they turned eighteen. But my dad liked it enough that he volunteered to serve longer.”

“I don’t think he liked me much,” Rodrigo said, recalling Mr. Azar’s intensity. “Whenever I came over, and he was home, he would sort of hover. Crossing his arms and glaring, like he was waiting for me to do something wrong.”

Leila’s laugh, her first real laugh since their reunion, was like music to him. He had forgotten how much he missed the sound. “Oh, please. You got it easy compared to every boy that came after. He totally had a soft spot for you. After what happened, he told me it was a good thing you could protect the people you cared about.”

Just like that, Rodrigo’s reminiscence of a better, more innocent time evaporated. He had convinced himself that after the fight in the cafeteria and his suspension, Leila’s parents had forbidden her from hanging out with him. Surely, that was the only way four years of close friendship could amount to dodged calls and being turned away at the door. “And you couldn’t tell you were one of them?”

“Oh my god, why are you being such an asshole over ancient history?” Leila snapped, her cheerfulness ebbing away with such speed that it was as if it had been a mirage. “Sorry I was an eleven-year-old, who saw my best guy friend suddenly go postal and found it scary as hell!”

Despite how petty it was in the grand scheme of things, Rodrigo wanted to be upset with Leila. Or rather, he wanted to have the option to be. It was bad enough losing so many friends and having no recollection of why. Worse, was losing your first crush without ever getting the chance to tell her how you felt. He would have preferred outright rejection to the lack of closure.

But the longer he was near her, the more his indignation felt like a facade. When he looked at her, not timidly through her or in her general direction, but straight on, at her pretty olive-skinned face, anger was low on the spectrum of emotions he felt. And even then, he couldn’t be sure if it was at her, or because of the downward spiral his life took after losing her.

Leila was silent, examining the various guns in the room. Rodrigo was turning to leave when she grabbed his hand. “Wait a sec. Look, I’m sorry for losing it like that. I just...I need a friend right now, not someone reminding me of the crappy life choices I’ve made. If anything, I should be thanking you.”

“What for?” Rodrigo asked, taken aback by the one-eighty of the conversation.

“I mean, when Bianca was...killed, it messed me up. Bad enough that she was my best friend. But what was happening in that hotel...I couldn’t accept it. If it wasn’t for you, I really don’t think I would’ve moved from that spot. So, thanks.”

Leila leaned forward, invading Rodrigo’s personal space so thoroughly that he could smell the remnant of strawberry shampoo applied earlier in the day. And for a delusional second, he thought, no, hoped, she was going to kiss him. He must have been more transparent than he felt, because her full lips curled knowingly as she gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. “I would’ve hugged you, but...” Leila pointed at him, wagging her finger up and down.

Rodrigo felt the sting of insecurity, until he realized she was referring to the dry blood on him, then flushed beet red at his own self-doubt. “You don’t have to. It was no big thing.”

“Is making a bigger fool of yourself than usual a necessary part of the human mating ritual?” Resent asked.

“S-shut up.”

“Goodnight,” Leila said.

“Night,” Rodrigo said.

After leaving the armory, he went downstairs and pushed open the door of the nearest guest room. Carlito was stretched out in a queen-size-bed, sleeping on his back. Rodrigo went over and covered his brother with the red satin comforter he had already kicked off. Then he sat down on a bed of the same size across from his. He detached the sheathed sword from his belt and placed it on the nightstand. Even with everything that had happened tonight, personal hygiene dictated that he change into something clean. After a brisk shower in the adjoining bathroom washed blood as dark as ink from his skin and hair, he threw on some fresh clothes from his backpack.

Rodrigo imagined he’d pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He didn’t. Now that it was quiet, he could hear noises from outside. They were faint, but there was definitely screaming and gunfire nearby. Since he had entered Adena’s mansion, he somehow repressed that people were being murdered en masse beyond its gate. The worst part was that there was no way for the average person to defend themselves. They couldn’t outrun the demons, or hide from them, and any weapons they had would be useless. It was so ridiculously one-sided that it was utterly obscene. And all for what?

Rodrigo tossed and turned for about an hour, unable to stop replaying the day’s horrible events in his mind before he shot up and seized his sword. With Raquel and Carlito safe here, he could actually go find out how the rest of his family was doing. Maybe he’d even be able to save some lives on the way. At least two, to balance the scales.