Coop reached into a pocket on his bloody leg and pulled out a packet the size of a walnut. The imp screamed again, its human disguise falling away completely. As it charged him, Coop threw the packet on the floor. A cloud of white smoke filled the corridor. When the fog cleared, three Coops stood side by side. Two of them took off running in different directions. The real Coop stood as still as a bacon-wrapped rat at a Rottweiler convention. Guard imps weren’t known for their brains, and most were attracted to motion. But this imp just stood there.

“Oh, hell,” said Phil. “We got the Stephen Hawking of imps. It’s onto us.”

“Shut up and let me think.”

One of the extra Coops came back down the hall, looked around, and sprinted past them down the stairs.

It was too much for the imp. It finally ran after him, screaming like a banshee taking first place in an air-raid-siren sing-along contest.

“See you around, smart guy—”

Something snapped behind Coop and the whole house shook. He turned around just in time to see the dragon swallowing the last of his broken jack.

“The imp woke it!” screamed Phil. “We’re double screwed! Do something, numb nuts!”

Coop ducked as the dragon blew a roiling blast of crimson fire over his head. The beast shook its shoulders, rocking the whole house. The wall started to crack as the monster pushed its way through and into the dining room.

“At least it’s not a Wendigo,” said Coop.

“You’re not funny,” said Phil.

“No, but I’m a good shot.”

Coop took a flat lead conjuring coin from his alchemy kit and flipped it across the room. It spun through the air, striking the nameplate on the front of the painting. The frame dropped like a guillotine onto the dragon’s neck, trapping it. It roared and shot out another jet of fire, but Coop was already down the corridor and out the same window he’d come in, shooting away from the house on the zip line he’d set up earlier. Phil whooped and jumped around in his skull.

“Suck on that, you monster assholes!” yelled Phil.

Coop was halfway across the manor grounds, heading for the stone wall that ringed the place, when he felt the zip line sag. He looked back and saw the imp sliding toward him down the line by one of its claws.

“Sorry, man, but those things eat poltergeists, too, and I’m not dressed for an evisceration,” said Phil. “I’m out of here.”

This time the poltergeist meant it, and Coop felt the sudden emptiness in his head that always followed Phil’s exit to wherever it was he went when he vanished. He couldn’t even feel angry for the guy deserting him. If he could desert himself right now, he would.