[alansplace]

I saw blisters rising on my left hand. I felt my fingers curling into a claw. They looked thinner, as if made of melting wax, and I could see the shadows of my bones beneath the flesh. The shield grew weaker yet. The pain got worse...

“Oh, God,” Murphy said. “Your hand, oh, God.” But she never stopped moving...

I lifted my left hand, and stared at it in shock for a second. I always thought I looked good in red and black, but as a rule I preferred that to be my clothes. Not my limbs. My hand was a blackened, twisted claw of badly cooked meat, burned dark wherever it wasn’t bloodred. My silver shield bracelet dangled beneath it, the charm-shields heat-warped, gleaming and bright...

Then he said, “You’re going to lose that hand.”

“I was sending it back to the kitchen anyway. I ordered it medium well.”

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“The three of us together should be able to take one vamp down the hard way if we’re alert. But if one of them closes on us, we’re probably going to die,” Kincaid said. “The best way to stay alive is to hit them fast and stay on the offensive. Once we’ve put down any unfriendlies, you two can go save the hostages or take the Renfields to therapy or tap dance or whatever. If things go south, stay together and come straight back out. McCoy should have the truck out front and ready where he can see the door.”

“I will,” Ebenezar agreed.

“Okay,” Kincaid said. “Anyone have any questions?”

“Why do they sell hot dogs in packages of ten but hot dog buns in packages of eight?” I said.

Everyone glared at me. I should probably leave off wizarding and chase my dream of becoming a stand-up comedian.

Instead, I put the toy gun in my right hand, my staff in my left, and said, “Let’s go.”

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“Hey!” I shouted. “You! You demented U.S. Army surplus blow-up doll! I’m talking to you. So say something!”

She didn’t, but her eyes glittered with annoyance, the first emotion I’d seen there. What can I say, inspiring anger is my gift. I have a responsibility to use it wisely.