The Isis Collar

He turned to catch my eye. “Experimental rounds.” He put down two more zombies in rapid succession. Between all of us, we were nearly through them. “The director commissioned them for use on vampires, but this works, too.”



I have got to get me some of those.



“We get through this and I’ll make sure you get a box.”



The key, of course, was getting through this. Because losing a few zombies wasn’t going to stop Glinda. There were plenty more coming, crawling over the bodies of the fallen. Plus, she still had all her stolen magic, and who knew what else in reserve. Since the troops hadn’t come in, the barrier had to be backed up, and its magic made it impossible for me to speak mind-to-mind to John.



The action didn’t stop while I was thinking this. In fact, it had intensified. Glinda threw a blast of power our way that narrowly missed hitting me in the leg. I threw myself sideways and skidded across linoleum slick with vile fluids. Bruno and Matumbo sent nearly simultaneous attacks at her from opposite sides of the room, but she stopped them effortlessly.



I noticed, when the guys attacked, that the glow from the collar diminished a bit. Maybe she hadn’t taken enough power to keep it regenerating. I had to tell the others but couldn’t let her know what I noticed. It was time for me to, as Rizzoli put it, do my damnedest. I pressed fingers to my temples and shouted in my head for all I was worth, praying that Matumbo would keep the zombies from sinking fangs and claws into me.



Aim for the collar. Make her defend it. Can you take down the barrier, or is she the one powering it?



I felt a tentative brush of words against my head. It hurt to listen for it, as though it was on the other side of a powerful waterfall. No, it’s not her. I’ve been trying to feel for the power source, but that damned necklace is putting out too much interference. If you can keep her off-balance, I’ll see what I can do.



For the most part, she was ignoring me as being beneath her notice. They needed a distraction, and I was the only one available to give them one. I could jump straight up twenty feet if I tried, but she’d simply blast me out of the air. But if I moved from perch to perch, she’d have to focus on me to hit me. That could give the mages the time they needed. If I was really lucky, I might even get within striking distance.



I moved to where she couldn’t see me very well and crouched, ready to pounce to my first spot. That’s when the cavalry arrived in the form of a dozen FBI agents, a glowing John Creede, and one tall gray wolf. They all aimed weapons for the balcony and apparently Rizzoli wasn’t the only one with the special shells.



Glinda took one look at John Creede, his eyes filled with fire and fury etched on his face, and panicked. She pulled a small ceramic disk from her pocket and hurled it onto the floor between Bruno and Matumbo. It shattered, as Glinda had meant it to, and I felt a sickening, and all-too-familiar lurch.



She’d summoned a demon.



Oh, crap.



We’d closed the rift, so demons could no longer pass through at will. But their dimension still existed. A human stupid enough, with enough power, could still summon one. And Glinda had summoned a doozie. I wondered immediately if it was the demon disk Eirene once lost in the desert. People had searched for hours but came up empty. She had the money to pay for it if someone found it and decided to profit from the sale.



The demon screeched with a lipless mouth, showing row after row of serrated teeth that dripped venom. His bellow of fury was loud enough to make my ears bleed, and I found myself as deafened as if I’d been standing next to an explosion.



He stood three stories tall, his hide like that of a rhinoceros—if the rhino came in black with oil-slick-colored highlights. He had only one pair of legs, but sported six tentacled arms. Each one of them had a weapon and they all moved independently of the others.



Fuck a duck.



A mace ball the size of a chair descended on us and Matumbo barely managed to get a shield up in time. It deflected the blow but sent us to our knees. She looked at us like we’d lost our minds. “So what are you waiting for? Attack it!”



Bruno returned the shocked look. “You’d have to lower the shield. You’re nuts!”



Apparently to prove a point, John raised a hand and flung a fireball at the creature, right through the shield, causing a new screech. “Most of my ability is offensive magic. It’s why George and I made a good team. He was a defensive guy. You just keep the shield moving with us. I’ll fight right through it. It’s my best thing.”



Bruno was suitably impressed, as was I. We attacked. Not that it did a lot of good. The thing was huge, and fast enough that it was nearly impossible to see the blows that were raining down on us. On the bright side, they were raining down fast enough that it would be hard to miss. Drawing my knives, I struck blindly, and felt the blow hit home down my arm to my shoulder.



I was knocked off my feet and skidded across the floor. Another tentacle came down that I fully expected was going to lop off my head and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. But the blow never reached. Instead, I saw teeth and claws and fur fly past my face and the demon screamed again from the werewolf attack.



Way to go, Emma. I owe you one.



The beast appeared to shriek again if the open mouth was any indication, as Kevin attacked again. Gook abruptly splashed on my skin, burning like hot oil mixed with acid. I was actually glad I couldn’t hear anymore, because both Matumbo and Bruno flinched in pain at the sound.



Celia, you need to do that again. I need a distraction to make my way over to that door. Bruno pointed. The power for the perimeter is coming from there.



I could see his lips move, but I was hearing him with my siren gift. Matumbo nodded grimly and blocked another blow with a shield of magic. I couldn’t hear her in my mind but could read her lips. “We’ll keep it busy.” She shook her head, trying to keep her balance.



Apparently I wasn’t the only one whose ears were shot. I yelled in my head, hoping she’d hear. I really needed to start to train the telepathy. “Get ready. On three.”



On three I threw myself forward and the shield moved with me. I sliced the nearest arm twice. My knives cut in deep and true and the arm fell off the body in a flood of eerie green blood. But this time I didn’t wind up with any demon blood scorching my skin. Let’s hear it for shields.



The beast turned, swinging a mace in a heavy blow, not at me but at Matumbo. He was smart enough to know that breaching her shields would leave us all vulnerable.



The shield fell abruptly and I had to duck a lightning flash of magic. Matumbo was knocked unconscious. I had to get her out of there or she’d wind up zombie food.



We definitely had to take out Glinda.



I wasn’t the only one to think it. I caught a bare glimpse of Rizzoli standing at the top of the stairs, firing methodically into the witch’s shield. It was a good move so long as he had ammo. Because unlike the spawn, Glinda couldn’t maintain her shield and attack us at the same time.



Movement was all around me, men and women in navy jackets with block white lettering reading FBI who were shooting at everything. Zombies were falling but had stopped burning. Maybe they became immune? I hadn’t a clue, but the bullets didn’t have the same oomph as when Rizzoli fired the first shot.



None of the FBI were mages but Matumbo. But she was out of commission for now. John and Bruno joined forces, doing their best to shield everyone but the demon. Unfortunately, it couldn’t last long, and on the second floor Glinda had used magic to mow down three officers who’d come in from the fire escape. I could hear the screams of the wounded. My ears had finally healed, at least until the demon’s next scream.



Glinda was holding Rizzoli off as she inched her way backward.



Don’t let her escape, Rizzoli!



I’m trying, damn it! But I’m almost out of ammo.



The demon’s attention was on the Feds, who were finally starting to make some headway. It gave me the opening I needed. I sheathed my knives and pulled Matumbo into the most sheltered spot I could find, then dashed to the floor beneath the balcony on the end opposite from Rizzoli. Leaping with every ounce of my strength, I was able to grab onto the balcony railing and pull myself upward—in time to be greeted with a blast of power from Glinda that hit close enough to singe my hair and melt the clothing to my skin on my left side. I howled in agony, stumbling to one knee. I could see Rizzoli pull the trigger, aiming to take her with her shield down. But his gun clicked empty. She whirled to face him. With a triumphant shout she let loose a bolt of energy that hit him full in the chest, sending him into the wall behind with a sickening wet thud.



I guess intuition isn’t always infallible. Like clairvoyance.



Pulling my knives, I pounced. I hit her before she could shield, driving both knives deep into her chest. I knew when one of them found her heart, because her eyes dimmed, and the fire of magic that had flickered and glowed around her died.



The witch was dead.



I had to get back to the fight. But I wasn’t about to leave the collar on her neck. God knew who was liable to pick it up. When my hand touched the clasp I felt a surge of power unlike anything I’d ever encountered. Sudden, blinding light that seemed to scorch through my retinas. My eyes watered and I couldn’t breathe.



“You summoned me?” The voice was alto, tinged with a hint of an accent, and came from inside the light … no, it was the light. I looked away, blinking away the tears, and realized that everything else had stopped. The creature’s arm, raised in a blow meant to crush the huge wolf that was Kevin, was still and suspended in the air.



The light had stopped time.



Oh, crap.



That just wasn’t possible. Except maybe for God.



The voice took on a melody of humor. “Or a goddess.”



“There’s only one God.” I believed that. Even now, facing … this, I believed. Maybe my gran’s lessons had sunk in after all.



When I turned back a woman had appeared before me. She was Egyptian, beautiful beyond measure. “You are a true believer. And yet I am still Isis.” She wasn’t happy. But she didn’t seem angry, either. More curious, and amused. “Goddess of magic, the home, and children. You touched the collar that was my gift. More, you have done me a great service, taking my tool from a hand that wielded it against all I hold most dear. What do you seek? Wisdom? Power?”