"You taste of fear." It wasn't Warren's voice.
I jerked my head out from under the hood hard enough to kink my neck. "Did you hear that?" I asked. I'd never run into a ghost at my home, but there was a first time for everything.
But even before he said anything, I saw the answer in Warren's body posture. He'd heard it all right.
"Do you smell anything unusual?" I asked. Something laughed, but Warren ignored it. "No."
Let's see. We were in a brightly lit building with no hiding places and neither Warren nor I could see or smell anything. That left two things it could be, and since it was still daylight outside, vampires were out.
"Fae," I said.
Warren must have had the same thought because he picked up the digging bar I kept just inside the door. It was five feet long and weighed eighteen pounds and he picked it up in one hand like I'd grab a knife.
Me, I picked up the walking stick that was lying by my feet where a moment ago there had been nothing but cement. It wasn't cold iron, but it had saved my life once already. Then we waited, senses alert...and nothing happened.
"Call Adam's house," Warren told me.
"Can't. My cell phone's still dead."
Warren threw back his head and howled.
"That won't work," the intruder whispered. I cocked my head. The voice was different, bigger and had a distinct Scots accent. It was Fideal, but I couldn't tell where he was. "No one can hear you, wolf. She is my prey and so are you."
Warren shook his head at me; he couldn't tell where the voice was coming from either.
I heard a pop and saw a spark out of the corner of my eye just before the lights went out.
"Damn it," I growled. "I cannot afford an electrician."
I don't have windows in my pole barn, but it was still bright afternoon and the light leaked in around the RV-sized garage doors. I could still see just fine, but there were a lot more shadows for Fideal to hide in.
"Why are you here?" Warren growled. "She is safe from your kind now. Ask your precious Gray Lords."
Fideal emerged from hiding to hit him. For a moment I saw him, a darker form vaguely horse shaped, the size of a large donkey. His front hooves connected with Warren's chest, knocking him off his feet. I hit the fae with the walking stick and it throbbed in my hands like a cattle prod. Fideal bugled like a stallion, twisted away from the stick's touch, and vanished into the shadows again.
Warren used the distraction to regain his feet. "I'm fine, Mercy. Get out of the way."
I couldn't see Fideal, but Warren held the digging bar like a baseball bat, took two steps to his right, then swung and connected with something.
Warren could perceive the Fideal, but I still couldn't. He was right--I needed to get out of the way before I blundered and got Warren hurt.
I put the Rabbit between me and the fight and then started looking around for something that would be a better weapon against the fae.
There were lots of aluminum fencing supplies and old copper pipes for plumbing. All my pry bars and good steel tools were on the other side of the garage.
Fideal shrieked, a nasty ear-splitting sound that echoed wildly. It was followed by a ringing clank, like a digging bar being flung across a cement floor.
Then there was no sound at all and Warren lay unmoving on the floor.
"Warren?"
Not even the sound of breathing. I ran across the garage to stand over his body, still armed with the walking stick. There was no sign of Fideal.
Something cut my face. I swiped blindly and this time the stick vibrated like a rattlesnake's tail when I connected. Fideal hissed and ran, tripping over a jack stand and into a small tool chest. I still couldn't see him, but he made a mess of my garage.
I jumped over the fallen jack stand, knowing that Fideal couldn't be too far away. As I rounded the tool chest, something big hit me.
I landed on the cement chin-, elbow-, and knee-first. Helpless. It took me a full second to understand that the buzzing in my head was someone snapping nasty phrases in German. Even dazed and facedown on the floor, I knew who'd come to my rescue. I only knew one man who snarled in German.