The chill swept across them stronger than ever. “Um, I think that’s a no?” Warm air flooded in. “That’s a yes?” More warm air. “You’re kidding me, Michael. Stay here?” Fine, if you were already a ghost, but how the hell were the two of them supposed to fight off three girls with knives and a cop with a gun?

Eve fainted. She did it convincingly, too, so well that Claire wasn’t totally for sure that she wasn’t really out. Monica, Gina, and Jennifer looked down at her, frowning, and Claire bent over her, fanning at her face. “She got cut,” she said. “She’s lost a lot of blood.” She hoped that was an exaggeration, but she wasn’t too sure, because the black towel had fallen away from Eve’s arm and it looked soaked.

“Leave her,” said Monica’s brother. “We only need you, anyway.”

“But—she’s bleeding! She needs—”

“Move.” He shoved her, and she nearly ran into the knife Gina was holding out. “Monica, for God’s sake, back the hell off, will you? I think I can handle some little girl!”

Monica frowned at him. “Oliver said we could have her when it’s over.”

“Yeah, when it’s over. Which isn’t now, so back the hell off!”

She shot him the finger, then stepped back to let Claire move past her. Claire did it as slowly as she could, manufacturing a crying jag and some shaking that, once started, felt too real to stop.

“See?” Monica said over her shoulder to Jennifer. “Told you she was a punk.”

Claire doubled over, moaning, and very deliberately puked all over Monica’s shoes. That was all it took. Monica screamed in horror and slapped her, Gina grabbed her, Jennifer stepped away, and Richard, confused by all the sudden girl fighting, took a couple of steps back so he wouldn’t put a bullet in the wrong one.

“Hey!” Shane’s voice, loud and angry. He was on the stairs, looking through the railing at them. “Enough already. I’ll give you the damn book. Just leave them alone.”

“Not fair,” Monica muttered, glaring at him. He glared right back, looking like he’d take back that hitting-a-girl rule, just once. Gladly. “Richard, shoot him.”

“No,” Richard said wearily. “I’m a cop. I only shoot who I’m told to shoot, and you aren’t the chief.”

“Well, I will be. One day.”

“Then I’ll shoot him when you are,” he said. “Shane, right? Get up here.”

“Let them walk out of here first.”

“Not going to happen, so just get your ass up here before I decide I don’t need either one of them.” Richard cocked the gun for emphasis. Shane slowly came up to the top of the steps and stopped. “Where is it?”

“The book? It’s safe. And it’s someplace you’ll never get it if you piss me off, Dick.”