He led the way towards the service entrance. Here and there, a few small fires flickered, eating tires and detritus. The stink was pretty bad. I breathed through my mouth and ignored it. I touched Thomas on the elbow. "Hey. Where's Molly? And my bag?"

"You're bag's still in the fort. And Molly?" He pointed at the line of retreating civilians. I saw Alex and Faith, each under one of Molly's arms, moving steadily away.

I took a deep breath. "Good. Lara?"

He looked angry. "Not sure. She was running with the Alphas. Mouse too. They were at the head of the column. They got here first, went around behind the stadium a while ago to scout it. We haven't seen them since we were jumped, Harry."

I clenched a fist. Lara I didn't really care about, and the political considerations between the Council and the White Court could wait to see if we all survived this. The pack, I hoped, was going to be fine. They had to be. Will, Georgia, Andi, all of them. And Mouse.

I shook my head as Thomas ducked off to grab my bag. They would be fine. The pack could handle itself. I caught Murph's eye as she moved near the refugee column. "How's it going?" I asked.

She jogged over. "Well enough. They didn't lose many in the ambush. Maybe two dozen?"

I winced. From 1200, two dozen was a small price to pay. But it was still two dozen people. People who would never go home again. Never see or be seen by loved ones in this life again.

People who I'd let down.

I ground my teeth and said nothing. I had to focus on helping the ones who were left, plain and simple.

"We were lucky," Elaine said. She didn't look at either of us, instead watching the civilians. "It was Mr. McCoy." She looked at him. "If you hadn't been here…" She shook her head. "I don't really want to think about it."

"Did what I had to," my old teacher said. He looked angry about it, too. But also impatient; he wanted to get after the vamps. So did I, but first things first.

I jerked my chin at the survivors. "Where are you taking them?" I asked.

"Sending," Murph said with a note of finality. "Across the highway. Shimer and De la Salle are just a few blocks down. They should be able to get shelter. Just have to get them away from here, really. With Cowl gone and those demons that popped up earlier vanished, they should be safe enough." She paused and looked at McCoy. "I mean, those things aren't coming back, right?"

McCoy said, "My guess is that with the Transit falling apart, they retreated, rather than be banished. I hear it hurts like hell."

"The same with those wolves?"

"Probably."

I glanced aside as Thomas emerged from the breakpire, Fix at his side. The younger man fixed his eyes on me. "Harry." As he came closer, I began to feel a slight pressure, not behind my eyes, but behind my nose. For some reason, I thought of two magnets, pushing against each other.

"Fix."

He looked me up and down, then took a deep breath. "I was afraid this would happen. It's never been a secret that Mab had an interest in you."

"I'll make you a deal; I won't try to kill you unless I'm ordered to, and even then, I'll bring incompetent back-up."

He smirked. "Maybe I can punch you through a tree?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

"Sounds good."

"You up for a vampire hunt?"

His face hardened. "Always."

John Marcone hobbled out of the breakpire, one of the last to do so. His arm was in a sling, but he walked with his back straight. If I had to guess, I would've said he wasn't on painkillers. Gard was beside him, a hand on his arm. Aside from the ragged, blood-covered blouse, she looked fine. Stupid Valkyries.

I didn't see Helen or Hendricks. Marcone saw us and started in our direction. I eyed him the whole way, the way you keep an eye on an angry dog. "You're going after the vampires," he said.

"Yes."

He looked at Gard, who pulled a pocket watch out of that small pouch she'd been wearing at her belt lately, glanced at it, then nodded once.

"Ms. Gard here would like to accompany you."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"I owe them," she said, putting watch away. "They nearly took Hendricks." After a beat and a glance at her boss, she added, "And Mr. Marcone. It is a matter of professional pride."

"You need a weapon?" McCoy asked. He had edged closer to the stadium, and eagerness was turning to outright anxiousness.

"I will find something," she said. The scary grin that spread across her face told us she wouldn't have a problem.

"I'm all for bringing more troops," McCoy said. "Anyone else?"

I turned and shouted, "Sanya!"

The big man came jogging up a second later, smiling. "Is always good to see you, Harry. You always put on a good show."

"Yeah, fireworks are my specialty." I looked around. "Anyone seen Ana?"

Everyone exchanged glances. "Damn," McCoy muttered. Some of the eagerness ebbed, and he looked tired again.

"She was at the back of the column," Elaine said.

"Right where they jumped us," Thomas added.

"Lots of fire tossed around," Sanya said, for once not smiling.

"Where?"

"Other side of bridge," the Knight said, pointing.

I took a step in that direction. "Hoss. No time."

McCoy's voice was like cold water in my face. "Dammit."

I lowered my head, closed my eyes. Ana hadn't been the love of my life, but we had cared for each other. She was good people. She still looked in on her family's descendants, checking every few years to see if any of them had developed talents. It was a way of reassuring herself that she was still fighting for something.

And she had been one hell of a warrior.

Wait a second. I opened my eyes and looked at the Valkyrie. "Sigrun?"

She was already shaking her head. "Several Wardens and soldiers died, Dresden. I don't know their names. I felt their deaths coming barely seconds before it happened. And I was at the other end of the column. I didn't see her die, but I felt several warriors fall."

She'd died saving people's lives, just as she'd always lived.

All I could offer her in thanks, now, was revenge. I looked at McCoy, and I saw the same thoughts dancing on his face. Without another word, he turned and started towards the stadium's service entrance.

McCoy took point and I brought up the rear, Murphy and Sanya flanking us and the others in the middle.

We passed through the service entrance loading doors, which had been broken open and left that way. The interior was dark and shadowy and foreboding and horror movie-like. There were dozens of little places where a vampire could fit. I kept my shield bracelet ready and the athame pointed.

There were crates and cases and boxes and various kinds of shelving everywhere, most of it spread around the floor. A few cases of nacho trays had fallen hard after the quakes, and spilled towers of black and clear plastic all over the concrete floor. There was no way to walk over them without making a racket. Gard picked up a heavy metal leg from a fallen shelving unit, twirled it, nodded to herself and kept walking. I saw Thomas reach into my bag and pull out my old shotgun. A genuine double-barrel sawed-off. Funny, I had loaned that one to Thomas ages ago, and could have sworn he never gave it back.

We moved relatively quickly. There were only two or three turns between the delivery rooms and the stadium proper, all through nice, wide, ambush-free hallways. It creeped me out that no one and nothing tried to stop us. McCoy, Elaine and I provided light.

Finally, after taking yet another dark turn, McCoy looked around. "The hell with this," he muttered. He put his hand against a wall, murmured to himself for a moment. I felt a gathering of power, simple yet enormous, as he pushed.

The wall blew outward, raising an enormous wind and ruckus. The hall was suddenly open to center field, debris covering the well-manicured lawn.

"That is much more convenient," Sanya said.

We all poured out. There, near the pitcher's mound, stood almost a dozen human-ish creatures; The Lords of Outer Night. And I have to admit, the name was appropriate; they did look like a bunch of loons. They stood in a circle, facing out. Each was taller than I was, but that might have had something to do with the enormous, grotesque golden masks they were wearing.

Each wore a colourful, gaudy robe, covered in designs made of gold thread. From that distance, I couldn't make out much detail, but I guessed each was unique. Above them, the red dust of the Transit swirled and writhed, a twister made of magic, slowly painting the sky. Given enough time, the Transit would be re-asserted, and Chicago would be drawn all the way back into Hell.

They saw us, of course. Their heads turned towards us, though they otherwise didn't move.

"Now what?" Fix asked.

"Can you crush them from here, Sir?"

"I think so," McCoy said. He stuck his hand out, curled his fingers like he was grabbing something, and pulled. As if he had just pulled it off a rack, a staff of pure black wood materialized in his hand.

The Blackstaff.

I stared. So, that was what he meant when he gave me his staff and said he had another one. I hadn't realised the position came with a rod of office, but I guess it made sense. It almost looked like it was cut from the same wood as the athame's handle.

He planted the heavy-looking staff in the ground at his feet and lifted one hand, to point at the circle of ostentatious vampires. "Stay behind me," he said. He took aim. I could feel the gathering of power around him, enough power that it felt like electricity in the air, and some of the hair on my neck started to stand up.

There was a slight thrumming in my feet. McCoy was about to unleash a gravity bomb.

About to unleash it.

Any second now.

But he didn't. And the power was slipping away.

"Sir?"

I heard him grunt. I glanced at Elaine; we didn't need to exchange thoughts to know we were both thinking the same thing: Anything that could immobilize McCoy was terribly powerful. With a tinge of worry, I stepped forward, just far enough to see his face. His eyes found mine, but he didn't turn his head. I saw the panic there. He didn't move because he couldn't. Crap.

"Sir?" I stepped in front of him and felt like I'd slid in front of an open fire hydrant. The sudden impact of pure power on my back knocked me into Ebenezar, and we both fell down. But the power that had been holding him vanished.

"Harry?" Fix said. "What just - " He cut himself off, and I rolled over to see why. I followed his gaze downfield. From between the loons, a fat, stocky, bulbous and solid black creature had emerged. Its mouth opened, revealing a large, pink tongue and a ridiculous number of long, sharp teeth. A Red Court vampire, shorn of its flesh mask.

The Red King.

It screamed, high-pitched and piercing. An answering scream came from the bleachers. We all looked around as damn near every seat in the stadium seemed to come to life and shake. Vampires, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, some with human skin and some without, jumped out from behind the seats and started down towards us.

"Blood Slaves," Thomas muttered.

"Oh, boy," Fix said. He pulled his shotgun, Gard lifted mine, Sanya swung his AK-47 around, Thomas pulled out two giant pistols, and Murph's Glock seemed to grow out of her hand. Bullets started flying. The noise was deafening. Some vampires were split open and fell, but the numbers were too large to even comprehend, let alone describe. The vamps from the outfield seats descended first, and I barely had time to throw up a shield before the first wave was on us.

Fortunately, McCoy and Elaine were beside me. The combined shield we threw up was rock solid, and dozens of vampires bounced off, hitting the others like dodgeballs. "Fall back!" I shouted. We moved slowly, a step at a time farther into the field. Bullets kept flying, and so did vampires, but the shield was only so big, and in just a few seconds, they would swarm around it. Then the vamps from the rest of the stadium would be on us. I would have tossed fire between gaps in the shield, but there were no gaps; McCoy and Elaine were too damn good.

Elaine, on my right, had Sanya, Gard and Fix on her side, guns blazing. McCoy had Thomas and Murphy, smaller guns but better shots. A few vamps actually tried to climb the shield wall. Sensing my time to shine, I pointed the old knife and started unleashing fire and ice, sending charred and frozen vampsicles crashing back down on their brethren.

"Enough of this," I heard McCoy say. He twisted around to get the Blackstaff pointed at the swarm approaching us from the left field side. "Down!" he shouted. Thomas and Murphy both threw themselves out of the way.

About three hundred vampires collapsed as their heads exploded simultaneously.

Wow.

Then he turned to the other side and did it again, Sanya and Fix ducking out of the way and Gard throwing herself behind Elaine.

Instant breathing space.

Double wow.

In the three seconds of space we had, I turned back to McCoy. I saw his hand and thought for a moment he had been burned; lines of black… something, perfectly matching the dark wood of the Blackstaff, had stretched up his arm, covering his hand completely. And they were moving.

I had no time to think about it; movement above me drew my eye, and I loosed a few more gouts of flame at the vamps up there. With a grunt of effort, I heard and felt Elaine's shield go down. Sanya and Fix immediately started firing again, and I let loose with some more ice spells. I saw Gard checking her watch again, then getting up and swinging her makeshift club like a real major-leaguer.

Then I heard McCoy grunt, too. His shield didn't fall, but when I snapped my head around, he was down on one knee, arm still extended to hold up his shield. As I watched, first Thomas, then Murphy stopped firing and collapsed to their knees, then fell flat to the ground, unable to move.

I turned all the way around, and saw the Red King, now only a few dozen feet away. He was moving slowly, languidly, like he had all the time in the world. I whipped up the athame and shouted, "Fuego!"

The king raised a hand and the fire just kind of bent away from him. Then his head turned a little to the side. Fix, Sanya, Gard and Elaine were suddenly thrown to the ground, pinned down. The vamps who had been trying to overrun us were driven back, and started cowering and grovelling well out of reach of my friends.

I dropped my shield, and felt McCoy do the same. I kept my eye and my athame on the King as he lumbered to within twenty-five feet of me. Beside me, McCoy was struggling to stand, but didn't seem to be able to make it. A quick glance told me no one else was moving, but they were trying. I could feel the power radiating off the King, now. He was holding them in place through sheer force of will. And making it look easy.

It was like Lea had said; the son of a bitch was on par with a Faerie Queen in terms of sheer power.

He tilted his head at me, like he was studying me. I wanted to incinerate him, but he'd already made me look like I was shooting a water gun at him. And I was pretty sure he was holding the rest of the vamps off, and if I disrupted his concentration, my friends would be swarmed. So I waited.

And as I watched, the vampire King assembled a flesh mask. It was really creepy and a bit incongruous, like cheap stop-motion animation. A layer of human skin, deep tan in colour, burst out of the King's own oily black hide, bit by bit and patch by patch, as his body began to shrink in on itself.

Watching a vampire burst out of a flesh mask is creepy enough – you basically see a human being explode into a thrashing, demonic monster, like in Alien or some old horror movie. Watching a vampire create a flesh mask is a hundred times worse, because while the shape and colour and size become more human-like, you still see the parts of the monster pulsating and writhing while the bits come together.

Makes you wonder what's inside of all the people you see walking down the street, doesn't it?

The King finally came together, so to speak. Just before he finished with his, uh, delicate bits, two vamps in the crowd rushed forward with a long red swatch of cloth and wrapped it around his waist, then dashed back to their places

Now that I was looking at him, all the holes in his skin closed, a little hair on the head, I wasn't that disgusted. He was short, for one thing. Maybe shorter than Murphy. He'd grown himself some black hair, just long enough to cover his neck. His eyes were dark brown. He took a few more steps forward.

"Mortal," he said. He had an accent, but it wasn't too thick. Even from his tiny stature, he was somehow looking down his nose at me.

I glanced side to side at everyone else, still unable to even raise their arms, each of them giving the King an angry look. Or giving me a desperate one. McCoy was still struggling to rise from one knee. Through clenched teeth, and with a lot of sarcasm, I said, "Your highness."

He eyed the athame, recognition flashing in his eyes. "Lower the weapon."

"No."

He raised his eyebrows. From all around, every single vampire screamed. It was the same sound the King had made a few minutes ago, piercing and inhuman, too high to be anything natural. But it was worse. Higher, longer. It was the kind of sound that caused you to crawl under the covers, shut your eyes and hope the monster passed you by. It was the sound of a Ringwraith, the monster under your bed, that strange thumping sound you sometimes hear at one in the morning, and your neighbour's hungry dog all rolled into one.

A few years back, I was caught by some Reds while trying to rescue someone. The things they did to me are… hard to describe, and I still don't like to think about it. That sound brought all of those memories rushing back, and I shuddered.

Once the sound died away, I looked at the King again.

Through clenched teeth he said, "Lower. It."

Harry, Lash whispered, lower the knife.

What? Are you on his side?

No. But you should point the knife down. Into the earth.

What are you – oh. Oh, sneaky.

On the outside, I slowly lowered my arm, letting the athame point directly into the ground, and put all my focus into forming a spell.

"What do you want?"

"The Summer Queen is a powerful ally. She offers much, in exchange for you."

"She fears me," I heard my voice say.

"Yes," the King said. He gave me a once over. "Though I cannot see why." He took a step forward.

My left arm jumped up, fingers curled in a traditional warding gesture. I kept my focus on the gravity spell. A ring, starting just beyond where everyone was lying. Almost there…

The King just laughed, though he did stop walking. "You may be strong. You may have hidden power. But you are mortal. You are nothing before us. Nothing before me."

"And yet," my mouth ran on, "Titania herself fears me. Perhaps you should consider that further." My legs each took a step.

"Perhaps you should bow down before I have your companions ripped to pieces and devoured!" He was shouting. Both of our faces contorted with anger, though I'm pretty sure mine didn't ripple with unnatural movements beneath the skin.

I said nothing. My head turned first to one side, then the other. Just a few more seconds…

"Submit to me, and they will live. Or stand, and they die. Slowly."

"I thought she wanted me dead."

He shrugged, a deceptively human gesture. "She changed her mind last night, as she has done every night for thousands of years. Now. Submit."

Deep breath. My arm slowly went down, and the King grew a smile. "Before I do, I must say one thing."

The king tilted his head.

Ready.

All yours, Lash said.

I took back control of my mouth and body from Lash, who I have to say, did a pretty good impression of me. I shouted, "Geodus!"

Energy swept from me, down the athame and its perfect focus, and into the ground. That power flowed down in an arc, coming right back up to the surface about fifteen feet away in a perfect circle, and spreading out. Fifteen feet was just beyond where Murphy lay on one side and Sanya on the other, and just before where the King stood.

He was pulled down into the turf, off balance, while the nearest vampires were crushed outright. The King lost his concentration as he was pulled backwards, and his will faltered.

I heard McCoy shout wordlessly in triumph; he jumped to his feet and charged forward, swinging the Blackstaff. The King was thrown into the air by invisible force. "He's mine!" my old teacher said, and ran forward. The others rolled to their feet. I spun to see Murph and Sanya pulling their Swords free. With Gard, they charged into the now-charging crowd, weapons swinging. My heart jumped into my throat as Karrin and her weapon were swallowed by a red and black mob.

I took a step toward her, but a vampire came charging at me from the side; I snapped off a spell that froze it solid then kicked it over. By the time I turned my head back, I'd lost track of Murphy.

Fix, Thomas and Elaine found their way back me. "Are you okay?" Elaine asked. I was breathing heavily. I nodded, frustrated. Despite the strength I'd borrowed from Mab, I suspected that I was in for a rough recovery. Of course, I'd have to live to see that. And to have any chance of that, the Transit had to end. Murph would have to wait.

I pointed at the Lords of Outer Night, still standing in their circle. "We have to take the Loons," I said.

Off to the side, we watched as McCoy and the King, free of his flesh mask once more, charged into each other; McCoy hit him with a ball of blue light, which bounced off the King's shoulder; McCoy caught one huge claw on the Blackstaff itself and twisted it down. Then they both backhanded each other with magically-enhanced blows, and blew apart.

"Damn," Fix said, eyes locked on my grandfather.

"No kidding," I said. "He can hold his own for a few minutes; we'll help him once the loons are down."

We got about fifteen feet before the remaining vamps started to close us in, protecting their masters. We formed a rough square, Fix at the front, Thomas behind and Elaine and me on the flanks.

"Well, so much for that heroic charge," Elaine said.

"Yeah, this could be going better," Thomas said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "There can only be about four, five hundred of them surrounding us. Tops. Murph and the others are probably dealing with more than that right now."

"Stars," Elaine cursed from behind me. "Molly was right. You are in love with her."

I spun around to look at her. "What?"

The vampires charged us. I twirled back around and loosed a wall of flame while Fix started swinging his sword and Thomas produced a couple of short combat knives from up his sleeves. Behind me, lightning struck the ground.

"I said you're in love with Murphy!"

"I heard that!"

"Then why'd you ask? Intria!"

"Hell's bells! Forzare!" It was like Murph and my fight with the zombies all over again. "I mean why did you say that? What did you mean?"

Thomas chimed in, "It's kind of obvious, Harry." Then he was cutting a claw from a vampire's arm while simultaneously disembowelling it.

"What's obvious? Fuego! Elaine, is this because I didn't kiss you properly earlier?"

"It's been a long time coming, Harry. Scavil!"

"You think I'm in love because I mentioned her instead of Gard and Sanya?"

Thomas said, "She's always the first one you talk about. The first person you think of, the first one you worry about. How do you think it is with me and Justine?"

"Are you people seriously having this conversation?" Fix shouted. His sword never stopped moving, and his voice sounded panicked.

I brought up a shield and bounced three vampires off it. "Arctis! This is ridiculous! Of course I worry about her, she's my best friend!"

"Oh, please, Harry," Elaine said, "it's an indication – vires! – of how you feel!"

"Elaine, how can you say that?"

"Like I said: It's obvious, Harry," Thomas said. "Just like it's obvious she loves you."

"What!"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Fix cursed. "You love her, she loves you, and you're both too damn stubborn to admit it! Can we please talk about this later! We need to kill the vampires so I can find Lily!"

The sudden reminder that Lily was still in danger, Titania probably holding a knife to her throat, was like a slap in the face. I threw a lot of frustration into my internal magic engine as fuel, whipped the old knife around and shouted, "Pyrofuego!" About 40 vampires popped and fried, leaving us a momentary way forward, though the stench was even worse than out in the parking lot. "Move!"

As the parted Red Vampire Sea started to roll in on us again, something caught my eye, and I grabbed Fix's shoulder to pull him to a stop. "Hold up!"

"What?"

The Red King hit the ground on his back not three feet in front of us and bounced by, bowling over dozens of vampires. A blade of fire – not a bolt, not a ball, not a beam, but an actual, sword-shaped, blade of fucking fire – went zipping after him. Ebenezar McCoy came flying – again, I'm being literal – after him, screaming; he didn't seem to notice us, but I saw the black lines on his arm had grown and thickened. His right arm was totally black. In fact, it looked just like a Red Court Vampire's skin. I watched McCoy hit the ground as the King got out of the way, and felt the tremor he kicked up.

Then Thomas grabbed my shoulder and wheeled me around. Murphy, Gard and Sanya were putting up a fighting retreat as they moved towards us, carving a path through a surging tide of vampires. For a moment, I took in the whole outfield; it was a freaking mess. There were streaks of red and puddles of black everywhere. But Murphy was okay.

I mean, all three of them were okay. For the moment. The crimson tide was still rolling in. Lash, I'm sorry, but we need to end this.

I understand. Do what you must; I will help you.

I glanced at Elaine, and sent her a quick mental message; she nodded and we went to work while Thomas and Fix covered our backs. I put my hand on hers, tapped just a little Soulfire, and suffused both of our spells.

It was an interesting, if brief, study in contrasts. On Elaine's side, the soil and grass erupted to life, sinking and growing, grabbing and slapping, as water and sudden, rampant growth ripped through the ground and the vampires upon it. On mine, the ground turned to a sheet of ice, freezing to the feet of many vampires and either holding them fast or breaking them off.

I cut off the flow, wooziness and dizziness competing for dominance in my head. And nothing else. I felt no fear, no worry, no relief.

Harry, you cannot use Soulfire again. There is so little left…

Slowly, like emerging from fog, my awareness and emotions came back. I shook my head.

Elaine was all but panting. But Gard and the Knights had a clear path back to us. They bolted, slashing and kicking at the vamps unlucky enough to be held in place close to the opening.

"Hey, magic-people!"

Elaine and I turned at the sound of Fix's voice. The vamps were pushing in from that side, the remaining two or three hundred rushing to get between us and the Lords of Outer Night, maybe another hundred behind us, flowing after Gard, Sanya and Murphy. Thomas was moving quickly – his hands were actually blurring. He was standing just ahead of Fix, slashing and stabbing left and right, cutting down vampires and making it look easy.

But even he was starting to slow. Elaine lifted her hand, then winced and dropped it. "I'm tapped," she said.

"Thomas, move left!" I shouted. He did, and I pointed the athame. "Arctis!" The spell released a blast of ice – but it wasn't a big blast, like I'd been hoping for. It only slowed down about a dozen vamps, only bought Thomas about two seconds, and pulled me to my knees. Despite the Winter Knight's mantle, I was exhausted. I took a few deep breaths, but couldn't get my wind back.

Sanya stepped past us, joining Thomas and Fix, while Gard and Murph skidded to a stop behind. Elaine and I just kind of stood there, trying to catch our breath as our friends fought for our lives. One vamp got past Gard; I swung the athame at it, caught its arm. The limb went dead. It screeched at me before Thomas turned and put a knife through its head. I yanked the athame out and put it through the thing's heart. It dropped instantly.

Thomas swung back around and cut another vamp's belly open, hardly breaking his rhythm. But I'd seen his eyes. They were turning silver. His demon would be starving soon, and he'd have no choice but to feed. As I watched, he took a vicious slice to the left arm with a grunt; he didn't stop fighting, but he did start bleeding.

On my other side, Gard took a glancing blow to the side and lost her footing. I jabbed forward, taking the vamp in the throat; it died quietly, but it was replaced quickly. Murphy took a wide swing, decapitating one vampire and removing another's hand; then Gard jumped back up and put her improvised club through its brain. She had dug out her watch again.

"You're checking the time?" I asked.

"Yes. Almost there!"

"Almost where?"

A vamp got a leg past Murphy, and Elaine took a kick to the shin. I heard a crack. "Elaine!" Murph and I both lunged at the same time; she took it in the side, I got its chest. It dropped.

I dropped to one knee over Elaine. "Are you okay?"

She'd gone pale already, eyes wide, jaw clenched. "No," she forced out, as a low, rumbling cry rolled across the ballpark. I turned my head to see the Red King smashing into the home team dugout. McCoy, black tendrils now advancing down his left arm, was marching towards him. Every single vampire attacking us stopped moving.

Then, as one, they all started running for McCoy, dodging around us and shrieking. The next few seconds played out in slow motion to me.

"No!" I tried to take a step forward and stumbled. I just didn't have any juice left. Even getting out of my crouch was hard. Sanya and Thomas started forward, but they would never be able to stop the vampires. Through the crowd, I saw McCoy turn and raise the Blackstaff. Nothing happened. He looked over at the Loons, and I followed his gaze. I saw they had all turned to look at McCoy. No vampires fell to the deathstick, its magic blocked by power just as old as itself. And my grandfather stood struggling, rooted to the spot, held by the will of those damnable old creatures.

I tried to call up magic, but I had only exhaustion to fuel it with. Soulfire was off the table. I reached for Hellfire instead, shouted, "Fuego!" The resulting fire scorched the grass, except for some of the stuff Elaine had saturated, and only caught about half a dozen vamps, the rest ignoring it. I still had my force rings on, and they had recharged a bit. I triggered two of them, but that only pushed them closer to him.

Ebenezar McCoy was going to die, and I couldn't save him.

Thomas had left Sanya behind a dozen paces ago, keeping pace with the other vampires, and even making some headway, cutting two of them down. But even he wouldn't make it in time.

But he was trying. He still had strength left. I had done everything I could, called in every favour, rounded up every ally, made a horrible bargain and maybe even burned out my own soul. And my family was still going to die.

Evidently, I wasn't the only one who felt that was just not acceptable.

A loud, rousing growl came from the visitor's dugout, just behind Ebenezar; Mouse, Lara and the Alphas exploded out from it, and met the charging vamps head on. Fangs and flesh met in a bloody display, but the unstoppable force of vampires had met an impenetrable barrier of werewolves. Lara had, at some point, evidently found an excuse to lose her dress; it was so like her to end up naked in a fight I gave it no more thought.

Murphy pulled me to my feet as I let out a cheer. I turned to look at her; there was a large cut across her cheek, and the small finger on her right hand looked broken, and she had gash on her left arm that was held closed with a very small, very red strip of her shirt. But she still held Fidelacchius. And, wouldn't you know it, she was beautiful. "I love it when the cavalry charges in," she said.

"I was about to say the same thing," I said. I turned back to the others. Elaine was still on the ground, her leg broken and pointing in an odd direction. Fix was beside her, his hand against his side, where his shirt was stained red. One of his arms didn't look to be working. "Oh, hell's bells," I cursed. I looked back at the scrum; the line the Alphas had created seemed to be holding, but the vamps were piling on thicker. I was suddenly worried about the Alphas, and not sure which way to turn.

Karrin put a hand on my arm. "I got this. Stay with them."

I put my hand over hers. "I don't…" … want you to go. But she had to, didn't she?

"Finally," I heard Gard say.

I turned to see her looking at her watch. Then she pitched it at the fight, Nolan Ryan style. The watch flew forty feet, hit the ground, and exploded into a lightshow. A round hole in reality snapped into existence above it, its circumference consisting of green lighting.

And einherjar poured out of it. A dozen, two, three. Heavily armed and armoured immortal mercenaries with thick Scandinavian accents ran forward, guns blazing in controlled, directed bursts. Vampires fell by the score.

From within the crowd, I saw several bursts of light; McCoy was moving again. The Lords of Outer Night were still standing in the same place, but now their arms were moving; as I watched, several einherjar were pushed back or crushed under invisible power.

The vampires were still losing, but if the loons weren't taken out, it would be a pyrrhic victory. I glanced at Fix and Elaine, then turned to Gard. "Can you watch them?"

"Of course."

I winked at Karrin. "Shall we?"

She smiled and hefted the old Sword.

I hoped that with the all the fighting, the loons would be too distracted to notice us. We had just about made it to second base (ha!) when that illusion was shattered. It was like I'd walked into a wall. Just one of the Lords was now looking at us, the rest still focussed on the fight. I didn't fall down, but just lifting my leg, trying to put one foot forward seemed impossible.

Then Fidelacchius was between me and the bad guy, and the pressure was gone. "Stay behind me, Harry," Murph said.

"Not a problem," I said. We started forward, and I felt myself getting a second wind. Or maybe my ninth - I'd lost track.

The loon who was focussing on us stepped out of the circle, and his buddies adjusted to close the hole. The red cyclone above them continued, with just a slight ripple of clear sky through it. Murph and I stopped advancing. I could understand them not wanting to give up on the Transit spell; it's hard and time-consuming to get going, let alone complete, but just one vampire? I wondered if they making this too easy.

I have got to stop wondering things like that.

The vampire reached up and took off his mask, revealing a perfectly normal human face, set several inches below mine and several inches above Karrin's.

The vampire lord grinned at us. Okay. Perfectly normal human face, except for the teeth. Long, sharp rows, all mostly red-black stared back at us. "Oh, boy." The vampire held his arms out to the sides, and in his palms, small balls of blue-black energy started to form. Before I could even try to throw up a shield, Karrin took a step forward, Sword swinging.

The son of a bitch jumped over us. I fell to one knee, managed to rotate on that knee, and got the knife pointed back at him. I quickly checked over my shoulder to make sure the others were still standing still and chanting away. Murph had Fidelacchius back at guard.

When I looked back, the vampire lord was smiling at us. He was letting his natural hands out of his flesh mask. As we watched, the claws grew from hand-sized to long, sharp and solid black, with pieces of pretend skin flaking off here and there. The fraying edges of the skin costume remained at his wrists, looking like cheap, torn fabric. And the dark power he'd been gathering was growing again in his hands.

We'd have to take this guy before we could stop the others, or he'd just rip us open from behind. I moved to the right, and Karrin went left. The loon didn't move, instead flicking his eye between us. I took a step closer, hoping I could pull together enough mojo to incinerate him. I blinked, and he was a blur.

I stumbled from an impact and fell to my knees again.

I felt something, on my right arm. Something warm. Looking down, I saw the leather around my right bicep had split, and blood began to seep out. What the hell? I turned back to the lord, tearing the knee right out of my jeans in the process.

He was licking his fingers, still shining with my blood and that unnatural energy. Whatever it was, it allowed his claws to act like a Warden's sword, cutting through magical defences.

Crap. I was too tired and adrenalated to think of what kind of magic could cut through the re-enforced leather. A powerful enough bullet could do it, of course. I supposed that concentrating all that power they'd been trying to sledgehammer me with - power that could paralyse Ebenezar McCoy - along a razor-thin edge could do it. Hell, I was lucky he hadn't taken my arm off.

Murph was at my side again.

"Well, that didn't work," I said through gritted teeth. She stood between me and the vampire while I heaved myself to my feet.

"Nope," she said. "Can you work any magic?"

"Not sure." My left hand was holding my right arm, which some idiot had dipped in pepperjack sauce; the cut was burning like nobody's business.

"Try." Then, with no further ado, she leapt forward.

Fidelacchius moved like butterfly's wings, back and forth in a blur, yet beautiful. The loon's claws swept and raked but did not block. The loon might have had a marginal edge just in terms of sheer power, but so long as the Lord's adamantium was magically created, Fidelacchius would even the odds. It was up to me to give Karrin a clear advantage.

I didn't have time to wait for my amped-up recovery powers to kick in. And while it might have been smart to turn around and try to kill the other Lords of Outer Night, I wasn't about to abandon a friend in the middle of a fight. So, what did I have?

A Fallen Angel full of advice and an autopilot setting, some Hellfire that I was having trouble focussing properly, six partially charged force rings, a magic coat that was literally falling apart, a magic knife that I couldn't get close enough to use, and a shirt rapidly starting to soak up my blood.

My blood.

Bam. Usually, I have to fuel magic with my emotions and my willpower, which for an overly-sensitive, stubborn cuss like me is easy. But blood makes great fuel, too. In your face, vampires!

I spun in a quick circle, tracing a line through the grass with the athame, sealing it with a drop of blood off my finger. Instantly, the air around me felt tight. Then, flexing my arm, which hurt a not-inconsiderable amount, I got a good flow going, and gathered some in the palm of my left hand.

"Ventas sangrias, ventas sangrias," I murmured. Murph was still moving, still weaving, still dodging… but the vampire wasn't getting any slower. "Ventas sangrias," I said one more time, forming the spell and dipping the athame in that little puddle of my blood. I brought the athame up to cut the circle. As the blade passed the barrier, I pointed it at the vamp's feet and shouted, "Dispertius!"

The ground opened up and swallowed the vampire Lord. Whole. He squealed as he fell. "Resarcius!" The hole sealed up, crushing him. And I didn't even feel short of breath.

Murph stared at the ground, then turned back to me. I grinned and shrugged. She smiled back and turned to the other loons.

The Red King fell out of the sky, landing with a scream between us and the Lords of Outer Night. The impact threw me off my feet. I hit the ground flat on my back, but somehow managed to hold onto the athame by two fingers. I rolled over, and saw the fight in shallow left field was wearing down both sides; there were literally more vampire carcasses than I could count, but more than a few einherjar had fallen. I couldn't see Sanya.

Gard and Fix had pulled Elaine a few dozen yards further away; I saw Lara and Thomas back-to-back, moving like glittering, gore-covered demons. One of Thomas' arms was a bloody mess and one of Lara's bare legs was the same. They'd given up using weapons, and were simply grabbing vampires, who would then stagger, writhe, and fall. They were feeding. Thomas' clothes were shredded. My bag had been discarded at some point. Mouse and the Alphas had moved to get between us and the remains of the horde. The mercs were still firing. And above them all, Ebenezar McCoy was leaping through the air like the Incredible Hulk.

McCoy hit the ground between the King and me. I bounced in place. His overalls were ripped, his shirt was more hole than fabric, but his skin was unbroken. Some of his hair had been burned away. Both of his arms were solid black, as was most of his torso that I could see; and I could have sworn I saw little ink-like tendrils riding up his neck. The King tried to stare him down with that telekinetic freeze frame trick – I know because I caught the edge of it – but Murphy appeared beside McCoy and the power vanished.

I heaved myself to my feet. The King, looking at each of us, seemed to finally get desperate. He gave a relatively low screech over his shoulder, and the loons finally moved, coming to help him, giving up on the Transit.

All that effort, lost. What a shame.

The red dust flying up into the sky began to disappear, and the real air of the world I knew and loved came flooding back in, stronger than ever. It was dusk.

"The King is mine," McCoy growled. He threw himself at the King again, and Karrin charged forward at the same time. With my blood smeared on the athame, I called up a little Hellfire and loosed a fire spell at the two loons closest to me. They threw up some sort of shield, but they were still driven back. I even winged the King himself.

McCoy came down on the big guy like the hammer of God. And the way he swung the Blackstaff, it kind of looked like a hammer, too. The King's return blow bounced off a shield McCoy created from a ring on his left middle finger; he absorbed the strike then used his finger in another traditional way.

The King tried to bring both fists down together in a crushing blow; McCoy dodged and spun to deliver a backhanded fist of his own, then lifted a fist. The ground heaved with his movement, tossing the King into the air.

Murphy cut down one of the loons almost laughably easily; the Lord tried to hit her, and she simply cut his arm off, followed by his face on the backswing. Then she stepped around his falling corpse and engaged another one. This one tried to throw fire at her. A slice of Fidelacchius disembowelled him, but also sent his fire spell wide.

Right into McCoy, in fact. My teacher absorbed the spell without harm, but it distracted him for just a second. The King got in a vicious punch that sent McCoy flying back. Outrage welled up in me, and was charging forward before I realized it.

I got within two feet of stabbing the King in the head. His arms came up, faster than I could see. One got around my right wrist, the other around my neck. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He yanked the athame out of my hand, looked at it, then very deliberately threw it away. Me, he tossed into the air, just a little. Then he kicked me, right in the chest.

I flew backwards, breath driven from me. I felt my ribs crack. My limbs whipped about. I saw stars.

Then I was on the ground, flipping over. I slid along the slick grass, twisted in every possible way, and came to a stop on the line between second and third, nearly bent double like a ragdoll. I probably shouldn't have survived that flight, but once again the Winter Knight's mantle proved its worth. My back straightened, pulling my head up like a ball on the end of an antenna. I sucked in air in a huge gasp, my lungs on fire. My limbs were numb. My eyes slowly got their focus back.

The colourful blur of the world resolved itself. I saw my hands, which were empty, the athame lost. I managed to get my head facing forward on a loose and limp neck.

I found the athame.

It was sticking out of my brother's chest.