Oh, God. I was alone in a house full of ghouls and a captive mermaid, serving as bait for a trap to lure in Stefan. Too late to try to rein in my emotions now; I’d already loosed a bolt of sheer terror he couldn’t have missed. I’d sent the police on a wild-goose chase. The Oak King’s token was back home in my jewelry box. I’d lost dauda-dagr, an incredibly dangerous and valuable weapon, to a freaking sociopath. Apparently whatever ancient Norse magic had created a dagger only Hel’s chosen could wield hadn’t taken Kevlar welding gloves into account. I pulled my knees to my chest, bowing my head against them.

There were no good outcomes here.

Daughter . . .

Belphegor’s voice whispered faintly in my thoughts, promising power beyond imagining: powers of temptation, seduction, and destruction. The power to wreak vengeance on my enemies, which sounded pretty good right about now.

You have but to ask.

Yeah, and crack open the Inviolate Wall, paving the way for Armageddon. Turning my head, I gazed at the mermaid. She gazed back at me, eyes a lucent green beneath their nictitating membranes. The scales that covered the lower half of her body were large and gray. A row of gills ran along either side of her torso, starting below the armpit. They fanned open and shut feebly in the murky water, revealing vulnerable-looking inner flesh that was an unhealthy pale mauve color.

I didn’t know a lot about mermaids—or fish, for that matter—but I thought she looked pretty damn sickly. I wondered how long she’d been held captive in that tank.

“So what happens when this is over?” I asked Dunham. “You pack up the tank and skip town again?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Not worth it to hire an experienced crew. I found that out the hard way.”

“Bringing her from Seattle?”

Dunham didn’t bother to answer. “Just not a big enough market in this Podunk town.” He thumped the tank again. “And poor old Rosie’s on her last . . . fins.” He laughed at his own joke. “My fault for letting a couple of dumb ghouls handle things. I should have kept her in the trailer like I planned.”

“We did our best!” Ray D protested. “It wasn’t our fault that kid panicked and got himself drowned.”

“Sweet, sweet panic,” Mary murmured in a melancholy tone. “My sweet baby boy panicked when I held him underwater, but I held him ever so tight until he went to sleep like a good boy.”

“They all panic,” Dunham said briefly, nudging the extension cord with his foot. “That’s part of your fun, ain’t it? Your job was to keep Rosie in line so she didn’t struggle.”

“So it was an accident?” I asked.