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die in a room the color of seasickness.

He searched the room for Morgan and spotted her in the walk-in closet, rifling through clothes. “Please tell me you’re working on a brilliant escape plan. I could really go for one of those right about now.”

“How many patterned blouses does one woman need?” Morgan muttered to herself, and then shouted, “Aha! Found it!”

“Great! Could you use it before I’m sliced and diced?” Abel pushed against the wall, trying his best to crawl through it, but the Red Caps were almost in reach. Then the one at the head of the pack lunged for his throat.

“MORGAN!” Abel shrieked and threw himself to the side. He felt a wind and saw a blur. Something thumped against the dresser and fell to the floor.

It was the Red Cap’s head. Its body lay three feet away, leaking blood like a punctured tank.

Abel toppled backwards and scrambled away on all fours like some awkward crab as Morgan swirled above him in a deadly dance. She brandished a long, thin sword and tiptoed through the Red Caps, the epitome of grace. She skewered one, sliced the throat of another, kicked a third through the mirror and hurled the shattered glass into the stomach of the fourth, and split the final goblin clean in half at the waist. All that violence with as little effort as a ribbon dancer.

Abel gawked openmouthed. “Who are you?”

She offered him a red-splattered hand up pulled him to his feet. “I am the Morrigan, goddess of war.”

Abel blinked and nodded. “Oh. Now see, that’s the sort of thing you want to bring up before the first date.”

“If this is your idea of a date,” Morrigan said with a teasing smile, wiping her sword clean on the drapes and sheathing it, “you’re more my type than I thought.”

Abel tried to come up with a reply, but the word “goddess” slowly worked its way through his brain, trying to make sense. Before it sunk in, though, movement caught his eye. The first Red Cap had crawled toward its head and stuck it back in place on its shoulders. Around the room, the other creatures stirred.

“Zombie gnomes?” Abel asked, that old hysteria creeping back into his voice.

“Not zombies.” Morrigan drew her sword again. “Just immune to most forms of mortal harm.”

“So what doesn’t fall under the ‘most’ category?” Abel asked.

“No idea,” said Morrigan. “I’ve never seen them die; I’ve only seen them kill.”

“I imagine it’s pretty painful,” said Abel as the Red Caps closed in again.

“It did involve copious amounts of blood,” said Morrigan, putting herself between Abel and the little monsters. “And screaming.”

“Wow, that’s exactly what I needed to make me feel better.” Abel’s head swam. “Thanks.”

Morrigan sprang forward, hacking at the Red Caps again. This time, though, they were quicker, dodging her blade with ease. She wounded a couple, but then a talon sliced her forearm. She hissed in pain, her sword wavered, and the Red Caps batted it away across the room, backing the goddess against the bed and surrounding her.

The leader, who hadn’t quite gotten its head back on straight, approached Abel, claws gleaming darkly, the twisted smile even more crooked than before. “Thirsty!” it howled.

Abel wanted to run. He wanted to fight. But he wasn’t a warrior. He was a highly conditioned preacher’s kid, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a bell clanged away. The scream that had built for so long broke forth in a Bible verse, the first one that came to mind in times of fear: “‘When I am afraid, I will trust in you!’”

The Red Cap popped like a gorged mosquito, showering Abel in blood. He squeezed his eyes shut as the liquid spattered his face and clothes, making his skin crawl. When it was over, he wiped his glasses clean as best he could. All that remained of the Red Cap was a sticky red puddle and a single yellowed tooth.

Morrigan stared at Abel in surprise. The Red Caps stared at Abel in horror. Abel stared at the tooth in mild confusion. Something in him felt like he should react more strongly to being covered in goblin blood, that shock numbed him. But honestly, he was just happy his random Scripture spouting had worked. And it seemed ironic that somehow, on a day that involved meeting evil gnomes and teenage war goddesses, this qualified as the weirdest thing he’d seen.

Panicked, the Red Caps surged toward Abel, and he forced his brain back into gear, scrambling for more Bible verses.

“‘Trust in the Lord with all your heart!’ ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God!’ ‘You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free!’ ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son!’”

At each verse, another Red Cap burst in a wet crimson firework, and four new teeth plopped into the soaked carpet.

Abel flashed a cocky grin at the final goblin. “‘Jesus wept!’”

Splat! No more Red Caps.

A smile spread across Morrigan’s lips. “Wow. And here I thought I’d only need you to get the key. I might have to keep you around for a while.”

Abel frowned. “Was that not the plan?”

“Dunno. I’m sorta making this plan up as I go.”

“Me too. I have no idea how I did what I did. What did I do?”

“Most evil creatures can’t set foot on holy ground, like a church.” Morrigan tore a strip from the curtains to bind the wound on her forearm. “I guess it’s the same principle with Holy Scripture, only these Red Caps must be concentrated evil for so little to obliterate them.”

Abel looked down at his blood-drenched clothes and wiped as much as he could from his face. “I wish there were a way to obliterate them a little less completely.”

Morrigan grinned, using the bedspread to towel off her own dripping red face and to wipe her sword clean. “You’ll get used to it.”

Abel nodded … and then doubled over and puked all

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