“That’s just it, Cal. They have nothing to be afraid of, but they are afraid. We still have gotten no word from the last two and nobody wants to go down there to find out why.”

“Pussies. When I get the chance, I’ll do it myself. Right now, let’s just stop these punks before they get lucky and put a slug in my brain. Are you with me?”

Mo’Lock sounded insulted. “Of course.”

“I need you to distract them. Walk by the windows, rustle the shades. I don’t care what you do, just keep ’em looking at the apartment. When you see some action, come down and give me a hand.”

“I’m on it.”

It took me a few minutes to walk from the Dupont Metro station to the street where I lived. I stopped about three blocks back, careful to check everything in my line of vision. Since it was Sunday, the streets were deserted. If bullets started flying, I didn’t have to worry about bystanders.

Everything was clear. When I was a block away, I flattened myself against the wall of the building to my left. If Mo’Lock was right, my ascot-wearing would-be assassins were right in the courtyard, near the entrance.

I took out a can of mace and my favorite blackjack. I wanted them alive, if possible. Well, at least one of them. For questioning. If they were working for someone else, I needed to know who it was. If they were operating on their own, I wanted to find out why. After that, I was just going to beat the living crap out of them for fun.

I peered, one-eyed, around the corner. They were there, all three of them, staring up at the window of my place. I started moving around the corner, edging slowly so as not to catch their attention. I made the mistake of following their gaze and almost laughed out loud.

Mo’Lock was thrashing wildly from window to window. It looked like he was doing a super-charged dance of the veils. I forced myself to look away and focus on the perps.

They wore the same clothes as the day before, with one exception—the female had a bandage around her head. I could see a spot of blood where one of my shots must have grazed her.

I crept up until I was right behind her, but she turned quickly. The look on her face when she saw me was reward enough, but I popped her anyway. One swipe with the blackjack and she hit the ground like a wet tea-bag. Her two buddies spun around and I was in trouble instantly. Caught with no room to move and no time to reach for my piece, I did what seemed to be the only thing that made any sense.

I screamed for the ghoul to back me up.

“Mo’Lock!”

Yelling stalled the two boys for half a second. I was about to mace them to hold them at bay while I awaited Tall-Dead-and-Ugly, but the sight of their faces made me hesitate. They were beyond strange, like plastic or wax, but very, very pretty. Like models straight out of a glossy advertisement, every feature was carved perfection. I began to realize who these oddly beautiful teens might be.