Imps Books

“Jerod drew a ceremonial knife from his belt and sliced open his hand as he sprinkled blood on each of the nine circles around us. One by one, they burst into a slice of hellscape that began to melt the asphalt underneath. Tiny, clawed hands pried their way out of the cracked ground, red and black and gray hands that pulled ugly, devilish creatures out from below. Imps.
They cackled as they emerged, the sound of it sending chills down my back as I tried to stay near Gavin without being in his way.
"What in the ass crack of Satan are those doing here?" Gavin snapped as he punched another vampire in the face.
"Helping," Jerod said.
The imps themselves began to devour the meat we'd left out. They let blood and other juices dribble down their chins. They rubbed their horns in the offerings, smearing now-burned meat and bits on each other, eating the livers like they were delicacies and kicking around the rest of it. As they finally settled down, they turned one by one to face Jerod until he had a whole herd of imps at his feet, no higher than his waist. One imp stepped forward, glaring up at Jerod.
"You have one hour, warlock. Why have you summoned us here?" it asked with narrowed eyes. Its comrades bobbed their heads and gnashed their teeth and shook their fists. They were ready for his command.
Jerod simply flung his arms open wide, gesturing to the plaza around us. "My enemies are the vampires. Do what you can."
The lead imp broke out into a nasty grin. "Yes, warlock. We have a deal."
And they sprang into action. Imps leaped onto vampires, biting and clawing and in general causing mass confusion. The fae near us knew what was going on, but none of the rest of them did. Imps cackled and bit and clawed and threw handfuls of fire into the vampires. It was all very... efficient.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Dragons