I redirected my borrowed magic. When contestant number two was almost within reach, the steps simply collapsed beneath his weight, sending him crashing down into what sounded like a storage cabinet or cupboard of some sort.

The first vampire was dissolving into mist to escape the branches. I released my hold on Lena’s magic, returning her power. Not that she needed it at the moment. Both of her attackers lay bloody and groaning on the floor.

“Last warning,” I called out, studying the mist-vamp’s power and preparing to strip it from him.

“That’s enough.” Deb DeGeorge emerged from the attic door in the closet. She held a silver revolver in one hand. “Drop the swords, Lena.”

Deb appeared . . . unwell. Her short, graying hair was a dusty mess. Her face was gaunt, and she looked like three-day-old death. Smelled like it, too. The stench suffused the entire hallway.

A wasp flew from the open attic door behind her. I flinched instinctively.

Deb snatched it out of the air, crushed it between thumb and forefinger, and bit off the end. After spitting what I assume was the stinger onto the floor, she popped the rest into her mouth. The gun never wavered. “The swords. Don’t make me shoot you, Lena. Or Isaac.”

“Shoot him and you’ll die slowly.” Lena stabbed the swords into the floor. “Ever had a really nasty splinter? Imagine them growing through every inch of your skin.” She flexed her hands. Her knuckles made a distinctly wooden popping sound. “Shoot me, and you’ll just piss me off.”

I studied her battered minions. “The one with the perforated chin looks like a Renfield. You turned him?”

“Consensually. I have the notarized paperwork to prove it.”

Which would be worth absolutely nothing in any court. “You were expecting us,” I guessed.

She shrugged. “I figured someone would try to round me up sooner or later. Isn’t that how these things work? First they came for the vampires, et cetera.”

Each time I encountered Deb DeGeorge, I saw more of the monster and less of the person she’d been. Her humanity wasn’t entirely gone. The sleeveless black dress and knee-high studded leather boots were pure Deb. But not much remained of my one-time friend.

“Sandy Boyle,” I said.

“Never heard of her.” Despite being armed, Deb took a step back as I advanced.

“Cut the bullshit, Deb. I examined the body. I saw your magic worming through the meat of his brain. This is the part where you tell us everything you know, and we take your cooperation into consideration when deciding what to do with you.”