"Merde!" Andre flung himself between the creature's clutching hands and its summoner, before Di could do anything.
And before Di could react to that, the thing backhanded him into a wall hard enough to put him through the plasterboard.
Valentine passed out again. Andre was already out for the count. There are some things even a vampire has a little trouble recovering from.
"Jesus!" Harrison was on his feet, rumbling for something in his pocket. Di joined him, holstering the Glock, and grabbed his arm.
"Harrison, distract it, make a noise, anything!" She pulled the athame from her boot sheath and began cutting sigils in the air with it, getting the Words of Dismissal out as fast as she could without slurring the syllables.
Harrison didn't even hesitate; he grabbed a couple of tin serving trays from the coffee table, shook off their contents, and banged them together.
The thing turned its head toward him, its hands just inches away from its goal. "Wah-wen-ine?" it said.
Harrison banged the trays again. It lunged toward the sound. It was a lot faster than Di had thought.
Evidently Harrison made the same error in judgment. It missed him by inches, and he scrambled out of the way by the width of a hair, just as Di concluded the Ritual of Dismissal.
To no effect.
)
