“Where are the others?” I ask once the ghoul’s body is discarded on the floor. Its eyes are still open and its fingers are twitching, like it’s trying to find its head and put it back on its body.
“Outside. We tried to stop them before they got to you. Are you sure you’re—”
Something crashes through the living room window. Another ghoul rushes in, making horrible screeching noises as it rushes at us. I fire off a few rounds, but it does nothing to stop the ghoul. Hasan flies forward, hitting it hard in the head and sending it back several yards.
Iron. What the fuck do I have that’s iron? I hold out my hand, giving magic one last-ditch effort. Nothing happens, and my heart is pounding. What’s the point of having—fire. The fireplace poker. It’s old and came with the house, and I’m willing to bet it’s made out of iron.
I spin, tossing my gun onto the couch, and grab the poker. Hasan has the ghoul by the throat, holding it out and away from him, not sure what to do with it. Ripping it to shreds is only a temporary means to an end, and probably is just going to piss it off even more in the long run.
Tightening my grip on the poker, I raise it and shove the pointy end into the ghoul’s heart. Its body twitches, and then it goes limp. The red light glowing from within dims until there is nothing left.
Hasan drops the dead ghoul onto the floor, and we both turn, seeing the decapitated body continue to twitch and reach for its head. I step over and bring the fire poker down into its chest.
“How many more are outside?” I ask, yanking the poker up. Ghoul blood splatters my face.
“Half a dozen at least.”
“Fucking hell!” I go back to the fireplace. Ignoring the little broom, I grab the large tongs. They’re not ideal for stabbing, but they’ll do. I hope.
Hasan takes them from me and forces them apart, breaking the two pieces apart at the hinge.
“Good thinking.” Sucking in air, I run to the front door. As soon as I step onto the cold stone porch, it hits me just how fucked we are. Not because there are eight ghouls doing everything they can to rip my gargoyles to shreds, but because the sun will be up in a matter of minutes.
Thomas and Gilbert have four of the ghouls grouped together, and they’re taking turns grabbing one, flying twenty feet up, and dropping it to the ground while the other throws punches.
Jacques is head-to-head with two others, large wings spread behind him, looking like an angel of death as he curls his fist and delivers blow after blow. One of the ghouls rushes toward him, and Jacques grabs it by the throat and uses it as a shield, hitting the other ghoul in the face. The sound of heads smacking echoes through the yard, and both ghouls stumble back.
But the fuckers won’t die. Not until I stab them in the heart with my iron poker. I raise the poker in my hand and make a move to jump off the porch.
“Stay here,” Hasan orders, holding out a hand. His dark eyes are set and he’s in battle mode, ready to go out there and bash skulls and do what he was made to do. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I’m not a princess,” I snap, nostrils flaring.
“But you are human.” He jumps off the porch, flying over to Thomas and Gilbert. Thomas has one ghoul by the ankle, holding it upside down.
Hasan calls to him, and Thomas flaps his wings, going up another ten feet. Holding steady, Thomas waits for Hasan to fly over and shove the blunt end of the iron tong into the ghoul’s chest.
It stops struggling immediately, and Thomas reaches down, pulling the iron from its body. He lets the ghoul fall to the ground, and then dive-bombs another, tag-teaming with Gilbert to take out the next ghoul.
Hasan goes after two at the far side of the yard, and realizing Jacques has no way to kill the ghouls he’s fighting off, I leap off the porch with the iron poker raised.
“Hey, fuck-face!” I yell, and the ghoul closest to me whips around.
“Ace!” Jacques calls out, turning toward me. The other ghoul attacks, biting Jac hard on the neck. He grabs it by its head, pulling it away. He doesn’t let go, and a chunk of Jacques’s skin comes off along with it.
One of the ghouls comes barreling at me, and I slow, holding up the poker. He’s making this easy as he practically impales himself. But before the poker can hit it in the heart, he’s pulled back and thrown to the ground. Jacques swoops in, thinking I’m about to get my face chewed off.
“It’s iron,” I pant, unable to see behind Jacques’s wings. Those things are close. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I think he’s going to tell me to go back inside and stay away from the danger just like Hasan.
Instead, he nods and whirls around, taking to the sky and knocking the nearest ghoul to the ground. I run forward, poker raised in my hand again. This time, I bring it down on the ghoul, breaking its sternum on my way to its heart.
“The sun,” Jacques calls to the others in warning, and spins around with more grace than anyone his size should possess. He grabs the other ghoul by the arms and brings it to me, holding it out so I can kill it too.
“Are you hurt?” he asks me when he drops the dead ghoul to the ground.
“Not seriously,” I say, knowing he can see the claw marks on my arms. “But you are?”
He brings his hand to his neck, as if he’s just now realizing a chunk of skin is missing and he’s bleeding. “I’ll heal.”
