Draug, in the rain. They were concentrating on this one spot, flooding down to add their bulk to what looked like a flooded low spot in the road.

I could see them moving like shadows through the rain, surrounding Adele and the other vampires, who were shoulder to shoulder in a circle-the-wagons formation. Even through the earplugs I could hear the muffled blasts of the shotguns.

My fanged friend grabbed my shoulder and pulled me to a halt. He was right—we couldn’t get closer; with three vampires firing in there, and taking a toll on the draug, we could get hit by friendly fire just as easily. He pointed to the silver nitrate glass jars that I’d clipped to my belt carabiner, and then to the thick, squirming puddle in the depression of the road.

I gave him a thumbs-up, passed him my gun, and unclipped the jars. My hands were cold and wet, and I had to concentrate to make sure I didn’t slip and drop them. And then it occurred to me that my brilliant plan was to run right into the middle of the draug.

It was suddenly not so brilliant.

The vampire bumped my shoulder and gave me an encouraging nod. He had a shotgun in each hand, like something out of a badass Old West movie; all he really needed was a big hat and bandoliers over his chest to complete the picture. And maybe a poncho. Ponchos are cool.

I got the message. He’d be right behind me, firing on the draug coming from the sides. Plus, they wouldn’t be nearly as interested in me if there was hot, tasty vampire within reach.

I gave him a firm, calm nod (and didn’t feel that way at all) and ran forward.

Adele must have spotted us, because her gunfire in our direction stopped, but behind me I heard the close percussive booms of my new friend’s shotguns going off as draug lurched out of the rain from the left and the right. Don’t stop, don’t stop, no matter what, don’t stop …

I ran directly into a draug.

Literally.

It was just forming itself out of the rain, and behind that human form was something vile and monstrous and formless, twitching and oozing.

I didn’t have the time to stop, even if I’d wanted to. I don’t know which of us was more surprised, actually.

I ran right into it, and through it.

It felt like half-congealed gelatin, or the thickest possible slimy mud. I retched at the feel of it on my skin, and it burned hard and fast, like an acid bath … but then I was out of it, and the rain, even draug-infested, was cleaner, and sluicing the ick away.

And then I was at the edges of the puddle.

A draug crawled up out of it, but passed me, heading for the vampire behind me. He shot it in half. I was really glad for excellent vampire aim, because my hands were trembling hard now, and I was scared to death, horribly and miserably terrified, and I felt like I was screaming and I probably was, but I managed to bring my hands up and smash the two jars together, hard enough to pop the glass.