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“No.” I fumbled with the clasp, then held the watch out to him. “Take it.”

He did. For a second, I thought that would be the end of it. He had what he wanted, and I had nothing else of value on me. All I had to do was stay still and let him leave.

Then the darkness moved.

It poured across the pavement in a silent wave, swallowing the yellow pool of light cast by the nearest streetlamp.

The pressure of the knife disappeared from my side as the man behind me let out a strangled gasp.

I turned.

Caligo stood between us and the street. Not the humanoid version I’d grown used to, but his true form. Seven feet of living shadow, his horns outlined against the night sky, and his red eyes burning in the darkness.

The mugger stared at him. “What the fuck?”

Caligo’s gaze dropped to the knife.

Then to me.

The scrape on my cheek stung beneath his attention.

“Oh, shit.” The mugger backed away, the knife wavering in front of him. “Stay the fuck back.”

Caligo moved.

One moment he was a few meters away. The next, he had the man by the throat. The mugger’s feet left the ground as Caligo slammed him against the opposite wall hard enough to shake dirt from the brickwork.

The knife clattered onto the pavement.

My phone, watch, and wallet followed.

Caligo drew one clawed hand back. The claws were new. I’d never seen them before, and there was no mistaking what he intended to do with them.

“Caligo!”

His claws stopped inches from the man’s stomach. The mugger kicked helplessly, both hands locked around Caligo’s wrist. His face had already begun to darken from the pressure on his throat.

“He threatened you,” Caligo said, his voice still carrying that same smokiness but now edged with steel.

“I know, but he’s not a threat anymore.”

“He held a knife to you.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

Caligo turned his head, his gaze returning to the mark on my cheek.

“That wasn’t him. It was the wall.” When his grip didn’t loosen, I made my voice firmer. “Caligo.”

With obvious reluctance, he lowered the man to the ground and released him. The mugger collapsed onto his hands and knees, coughing and dragging air back into his lungs.

“Wait,” I called as he started to rise.

He froze.

I retrieved my phone and wallet, then picked up my watch. A crack ran across its face, but it was still ticking. Unlike the man who crouched at Caligo’s feet, who looked as though he’d forgotten not only how to breathe, but how to perform every basic function required to stay alive. It was lucky the watch didn’t have any sentimental value, or I might have let Caligo have at him.

“You’re going to get to walk away,” I said. “But if you ever rob anyone again—anyone—Caligo will know.”