"You're far from home yourself. Will you beat me like a woman squealing at a rat?" It chuckles again.

Murphy takes a step forward. "Get off of my curtains," she says. "We picked those out special."

The light from her sword solidifies. The stage is clear. It's just her, Gabriel, and the skinwalker. Murphy can only pray that Vansen and Hawkes are either safe or not planning something stupid. The skinwalker drops onto the stage, splintering the boards and sending a little wave of impact over the stage. It sounds amused.

"Come then, little hammer."

And then it launches itself forward, arms spreading into wings and speed increasing the closer it gets. Murphy drops, thrusting the sword upwards as it skims overhead and banks into the catwalks of the theatre.