Michael didn't so much as turn his head. He reached out, caught the cane, and with a sweep of his arm threw the cane-sheath free of the sword so that Fidelacchius's blade shone with its own light. Without pausing, he swung the second sword and struck Deirdre's tangling hair from his arm, sending her stumbling back.

Nicodemus attacked him, and Michael met him squarely, shouting, "O Dei! Lava quod est sordium!" Cleanse what is unclean, O God. Michael managed to hold his ground against Nicodemus, their blades ringing. Michael drove Nicodemus to one side and I had a shot at his back. I took it. Beside me, Marcone did the same.

The shots took Nicodemus by surprise and stole his balance. Michael shouted and pressed forward on the offensive, seizing the advantage for the first time. Both shining blades dipped and circled through attack after attack, and Michael drove Nicodemus back step by step.

"Hell's bells, he's going to win," I muttered.

But Nicodemus drew a gun from the back of his belt.

He shoved it against Michael's breastplate and pulled the trigger. Repeatedly. Light and thunder made even the rushing train sound quiet.

Michael fell and did not move.

The light of the two swords went out.

I shouted, "No!" I raised my gun and started shooting again. Marcone joined me.

We didn't do too badly considering we were standing on a moving train and all. But Nicodemus didn't seem to care. He walked toward us through the bullets, jerking and twitching occasionally. He casually kicked the two swords over the side of the train.

I ran dry on bullets, and Nicodemus took the gun from my hand with a stroke of his sword. It hit the top of the boxcar once, then bounced off and into the night. The train thundered down a long, shallow grade toward a bridge. Demon-girl Deirdre leapt over to her father's side on all fours, her face distorted in glee. Tendrils of her hair ran lovingly over Michael's unmoving form.

I drew up my unfocused shield into a regular barrier before me, and said, "Don't even bother offering me a coin."

"I hadn't planned on it," Nicodemus said. "You don't seem like a team player to me." He looked past me and said. "But I've heard about you, Marcone. Are you interested in a job?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," Marcone said.

Nicodemus smiled and said, "Bravo, sir. I understand. I'm obliged to kill you, but I understand."

I traded a look with Marcone. I flicked my eyes at the upcoming bridge. He took a deep breath and nodded.

Nicodemus lifted the gun and aimed for my head. His shadow suddenly swept forward, under and around my shield, seizing my left hand. It ripped at my arm hard, pulling me off balance.

Marcone was ready. He let one of his empty guns fall and produced a knife from somewhere on his person. He flicked it at Nicodemus's face.