to grab him, simultaneously plugging himself into the outlet. As the current buzzed through his energy field, he latched onto Devin’s ankle. Sparks flew up the slayer’s leg and sizzled across his mail. Devin’s limbs stiffened, and his fingers locked around the sword’s hilt. Light bulbs popped in the ceiling fixture, and the room fell dim. With the current no longer streaking through him, Gabriel collapsed and released his grip.
Palin stood transfixed, as if hypnotized by the glow of streetlights illuminating the room. Irene jerked away his sword and charged at the slayer.
Devin toppled forward, and with a stiff jab, thrust his blade into Irene’s stomach, slashing downward as he fell. He thudded prostrate to the hardwood floor, covering the candlestone.
Irene dropped Palin’s sword and grasped her belly. Blood oozed between her fingers. Her legs buckled, and she dropped to her knees, her eyes wide and her mouth agape.
Gabriel could barely crawl. His energy field sizzled as he willed his way toward Irene.
She fell to her side, her eyes still open. Palin jumped over her, retrieved his sword, and knelt beside his fallen leader. He shook Devin’s body. “My liege! Can you hear me?”
Devin stayed flat on the floor. “I hear you. . . . But I can’t see anything . . . except a lump on the floor. Did I kill the demon witch?”
Palin glanced at Irene. “A mortal stab, my liege. If she’s not already dead, she will be soon.”
Gasping for breath, Devin lifted his head. “An electrical shock. That mongrel . . . Gabriel . . . must have done this.”
“I see him,” Palin said. “Just a few glitters on the floor near your feet, and he seems paralyzed, but he’s definitely here.”
“No use . . . worrying about him.” Devin nodded toward the stairs. “Check the house. . . . See if the witch whelped any mongrels. Conner said he had no kids, . . . but make sure.”
“And if she has?”
“Kill them. But save . . . some of their blood.”
Palin turned and, stepping over Irene’s deathly still body, headed for the stairs. Gabriel followed, slithering along the thin planks like a dribbling stream of sparks.
Pointing his sword upward, Palin climbed the stairs slowly. Devin pushed up to his hands and knees. The candlestone again dangled from its chain, swaying back and forth as the slayer struggled to right himself.
Gabriel strained against the relentless pull. He had beaten the evil gem before, but would he be strong enough to get away this time? Stretching and clawing, he attached his energy to the heads of the nails holding down the wooden strips. Like scaling a sheer cliff, he grabbed one nail after the other and slowly edged toward the stairs.
Finally, the drag from the candlestone eased. He crawled faster and reached the carpeted stairway just as Palin stepped up to the top landing. Gabriel plodded upward, trying to float, but his energy field seemed mired in sticky mud. At least his sparks had faded. He would likely be invisible to the slayers now.
Palin disappeared into the master bedroom. Gabriel lurched forward. The slayer wouldn’t find anyone there, but Bonnie’s bedroom was next in line.
As Gabriel reached the final step, Palin poked his head out of the master bedroom and gazed down the hallway in the opposite direction. Gabriel slid into Bonnie’s bedroom and settled next to the outlet that fed the lamp, close enough to the door to grab Palin before he could reach Bonnie.
Palin stepped into the room. With every light off, he seemed more phantom than human. Gabriel plugged his fingers in again, but this time no painful buzz rocketed through his body. He yanked his hand back. That last jolt must have knocked out the electricity!
The slayer reached over to the lamp and turned its switch. Nothing happened. He leaned back into the hall. “Sir Devin! Are you up?”
“Yes,” came the reply. “Did you find anyone?”
Gabriel cringed. Would their conversation awaken Bonnie? Would she groan or cry out?
“Not yet,” Palin said. “The electricity’s off. Can you see well enough to find the circuit breakers?”
“Maybe. Hold on.”
Gabriel forced his energy field to stand up, but he fell backwards, right through the lamp and into the wall, flattening himself against Bonnie’s poster of a little girl praying. He draped his fingers across the girl’s twin ponytails. Looking toward Bonnie in the darkness, he imagined her head lying on the pillow, her own ponytails draped across her neck.