she extended her right arm palm out, turning the gem in her ring toward the window. Green fire arced from her ring and hit Baldy full in the chest, holding him in place. Mr. Thompson’s eyes narrowed and this time when he sent a blast of magic from his cane, a dagger of solid ice lodged deep in Baldy’s chest like a frozen lance. Blood bubbled from the wound and the fallen angel collapsed as his body gave a final shudder, then disappeared.
Four Nephilim sauntered toward us, seemingly undeterred by the fact that we’d already dispatched three of their buddies. It didn’t help that Nephilim could fly, and landing in the walled garden was a lot easier than scaling the walls to get out. They didn’t need to hurry. We were the ones inside a burning building.
The ghosts of Palmetto Meadows had begun to gather. Maybe they wanted to watch us fight the monsters, or perhaps they sensed that some of the residents might soon be among them, if we couldn’t tame the fire and smoke soon. But I glimpsed their presence near the memorial tree, silent witnesses to our skirmish with the forces of Hell.
The smoke was getting thicker despite the broken windows. In the hallway, I heard screams and sobbing, shouts and prayers. I wanted to help the staff get the patients to safety. But nowhere was safe until we dealt with the Nephilim. Then the fire doors triggered, and we were cut off from the hallway, locked in the activity room with three fallen angels, and fenced in all around with a brick wall too high to climb.
I pushed my athame back up my sleeve and snapped the chakram free, leaving Josiah’s pistol jammed into my belt. Ginger stepped through the shattered glass coming straight at me, while two others advanced on Chuck and Mr. Thompson. I sent the chakram flying.
Ginger flinched an instant too late. The chakram hit him in the chest, slicing bone-deep, right through to the ribs. A large flap of flesh hung from the bones, splattering blood across the broken glass that still clung to the window frame. The Nephilim staggered forward, howling in anger and pain. Bo’s ghost lunged, chest high, and sank his teeth into Ginger’s right shoulder. As the Nephilim struggled, Chuck flicked his wrist and sent a silver dagger into the fallen angel’s left eye. Bo released his jaws, and Ginger fell to the ground, convulsing, before disappearing in the next instant.
“Got another one of them,” Chuck muttered.
“Watch out!” Judy shouted, and shot her green fire over my shoulder so close it singed my hair. She caught Painting Creep full in the face, and while he was trapped by her magic, I grabbed Josiah’s pistol, took aim and shot that son of a bitch right through the heart with Winfield’s special bullet. He dropped like a rock.
Baxter whined quietly from the backpack, and much as I hated to admit it, I was as scared as he was.
Two Nephilim left. I prayed that they didn’t get more reinforcements. Crow ran toward Mr. Thompson, who brought his ash wood cane up like a rifle. He shouted a command, and ice formed on the Nephilim’s skin and clothing, frosting his hair white. The fallen angel slowed, and I wondered whether Old Man Thompson was trying to freeze his blood or stop his heart.
But in the next breath, Crow shook off the ice and came at Thompson with a roar, lifting him out of his wheelchair and throwing him across the room. Thompson twisted as he flew through the air, and managed to hang onto his cane. He fell hard, but he was tough enough to roll into a ball, a move that told me he had long practice and plenty of experience with fights.
Judy ran over to him, and I put myself between Crow and them, hoping to buy time. I got in a shot with my athame that sent the Nephilim halfway across the room, but I knew it wasn’t putting him down for good. Then I realized I had made a big mistake.
I had forgotten about Becky.
Becky charged out of the activity room’s side parlor armed with a kitchen knife in each hand. I don’t know what hold her fallen angel boyfriend had on her, but her eyes were glazed and her lips pulled back over her teeth in a snarl. Meanwhile, the Nephilim I’d just hit with my magic got to his feet and looked ready to rumble.
I couldn’t