fight off both Becky and Crow at the same time. As Becky ran at me, the last fallen angel, Asian Dude, started to transform into his nightmare beast form. This just kept going from bad to worse.
Becky was closer than the Nephilim, and if I didn’t stop those knives, I’d be mincemeat before the fallen angel got to me. Baxter barked angrily from my backpack.
Bo’s ghost snapped and harried Crow while I went after Becky. Josiah’s gun only held one shot, so I grabbed it by the barrel and swung it like a club. I slammed the butt against her right hand, and she lost her grip on one of the knives, which I kicked to the far corner of the room. She got me good with the other knife, opening a deep cut on my left forearm that hurt like hell. I brought the dueling pistol back for a second blow and this time, I nailed Becky right in the temple. She sagged like a sack of potatoes, and while she was on her way down, I kicked the bloody knife from her left hand, just in case. I hoped she was down for the count, because Crow was closing fast.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Chuck was losing ground against Asian Dude. It was in its monster form, a purplish-black, fanged and clawed creature from a nightmare, and it stood at least eight feet tall with muscles all the steroids in the world couldn’t give a mortal.
Chuck hit the monster with his sword and two of his silver throwing knives, but the creature just bellowed in rage and kept coming. He zapped it with the ray gun look-alike he had used at the Old Jail, but that only slowed the Nephilim down. I hoped Chuck had more surprises in his pack, because I couldn’t help him and still protect Judy and Mr. Thompson.
The room was growing smokier by the minute. We would probably have been dead already if the Nephilim hadn’t broken all the floor-to-ceiling windows on their way in. I heard sirens in the distance, but I wasn’t counting on them getting here in time for a rescue.
More ghosts lurked around the edge of the room. I would have expected them all to appear as frail old people, but maybe they got to choose, because many of them looked as they had in their prime. Most of the men wore military uniforms from the World Wars. Some of the women wore ball gowns while others sported cocktail dresses or shirtwaists with matching hats and white gloves. They watched the fight with interest, staying well back out of the way.
“Hey soldier boys!” I yelled. “We could use a little help here!”
Bo got his ghostly teeth into Crow’s thigh, and refused to let go. The ghostly old soldiers swept forward, some toward Crow and others toward the monster Chuck battled. Like Bo, they were solid enough to grab arms and legs, dragging the fallen angels back and slowing them down. I was willing to take all the help I could get.
While Crow and Asian Dude struggled to get loose, my gaze fell on the silver candelabrum under the memorial tree canvas. I dove for it and came up swinging. Damn, it was heavy. Holding it by its base, I swung with both hands, slamming it into Crow’s head so hard I crushed the side of his skull. Blood streamed down his ruined face and fluid poured from his eye, but he kept on coming.
He smacked his fist into me and sent me reeling. I lost Josiah’s pistol out of my belt, and it went spinning away. Even though I was seeing double from the impact, I swung the candelabrum again, aiming this time for the front of his face. The silver burned his skin as it made contact, breaking his nose and caving in his cheekbones. His remaining eye fixed on me with a bone-chilling hatred.
Crow raised his fist to hit me again. Bo snarled and chomped down on the fallen angel’s wrist, while the old soldiers tackled him, throwing him off balance. It was the break I needed. Running with all my might, I angled the candle-holder side of the candelabrum toward the Nephilim and charged at him with my full strength, ramming the six separate prongs into his chest with enough force to break ribs. Then I let go of the candelabrum with my right hand and shoved my palm right against