“Hey, man!” another ghoul protested, tall and whippet-thin. Ray D, I presumed. “You don’t treat her like that.”

“Or what?” Dunham calmly pulled a pistol from the waistband of his jeans.

Ray D laughed and spread his arms. “Go ahead, shoot.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna shoot you.” Dunham shifted his stance and aimed the gun at my head. My mind went blank with terror. “First I shoot the girl; then I shoot the fish, and you ravening motherfuckers can starve.”

Across the room came the sound of a shotgun being pumped. “Do it and I blow your head off, Dunham,” Johnny said. “And there’s no coming back for you. Stick with the plan.”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do, you dumb hillbilly.” Jerry Dunham turned to face him with a sociopath’s utter lack of fear. “You promised me you could keep your ghouls under control long enough.”

Johnny gritted his teeth, his pupils waxing and waning. “And I will. No feeding on the girl,” he warned them. “Not until this is over.”

“Oh, but she’s so scared,” Mary Sudbury crooned, circling back to stroke my cheek. “Poor little thing.” A shadow crossed her face. “I bet your mommy’s going to miss you ever so much.”

“Get off her, Mary,” Dunham said again. “I’m not gonna tell you a third time.”

She pouted. “Just a taste?”

“Not until it’s over.” Johnny gestured with the shotgun. “Ray, pull her off.”

“Come on, sweetheart.” The tall, thin ghoul took Mary by the shoulders, easing her gently backward. “It won’t be long.” He grinned at me, baring discolored teeth. “And when it’s over, we’ll have a feast.”

Licking my dry lips, I found my voice. It sounded shaky. “Was that the offer you couldn’t refuse?” I asked Johnny.

He shook his head. “You’re just the icing on the cake. Dunham, you ready to try again? I can’t touch it.”

“Yeah, I’ll have another go.” Jerry Dunham shoved the pistol back into his waistband, flexing his hand. There was a bandanna wrapped around it. “Fuck, that fucking hurt. Luke, you got that welding glove for me?”

A ghoul I didn’t recognize tossed it to him. I shrank back at Dunham’s approach, finding a wall behind me. In the tank beside me, the mermaid pressed her webbed hands against the glass in a gesture of sympathy.

“Quit your cowering,” Dunham said to me with disdain. “I’m not interested in you.” Reaching down with his gloved hand, he yanked dauda-dagr from its sheath. Within seconds, he was grimacing. “Motherfucker, that’s cold!”

“Can you hold it long enough to do the job?” Johnny asked him.

“Oh, yeah.” Dunham dropped the dagger on the top of the bar and shook out his hand. “I reckon I might lose a few more layers of skin. But for Mister High Lord Muckety-Muck, I’ll manage.”