“Maybe a flamethrower or a bazooka?"

Althea shook her head, helping Josh lift a brick of clay onto the workbench. She stripped off the shirt she was wearing, revealing a dark sports bra. "No good. Against the demon-spawn, we can't deal out death from a distance. Modern weapons don't work on them. Not to the extent we need. They're almost like zombies that way. Unless you remove the head, they always seem to heal themselves and come back for more. A sword is the best weapon. Or a really good ax. Some of my incubi brothers use them. I don't. It's always been swords for me."

She sighed. "I have a lovely one at home. Seventeenth century, Toledo steel, made by a master swordsmith in Spain named Domingo Montoya. I would give anything to have it here right now. But I don't. So I will have to make do with what I have available." She started sketching out the dimensions on a bit of paper. "It doesn't have to be fancy, Josh.

Two edges, a pointy bit at the end, and a place to hold onto it. The most important part is the power. And the symbolism." She drifted off as a thought occurred to her, and she smiled.

"Oh, Yasna," she said, as the sound of an approaching car came through an open window.

“That's Jeremy and the rest of them. After they get their things put away, can you ask everyone to come in here? I have something to do before Josh and I get too deep into this project.” seem

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in the workshop, the seven mortals Looking curiously at the immortal sccubus

“You asked to see us, Althea?" Rachel asked. Her voice sounded a Little bit testy, and Josh smiled. His Lovely wife Looked vaguely aggravated, as if she had made plans that had gone unfulfilled.

“Have a nice afternoon?" he asked Alex quietly, making his voice low and threatening.

His son rolled his eyes towards him warily. "Yes, sir. I did."

"Good," he replied with a nod.

“I'm glad. Otherwise I would have wondered if something was wrong with your mother. Don't worry, kid," he said with a crooked smile. "I'm in no position to be jealous or angry.

Just don't wear her out so much that she doesn't have energy left for me."

"I don't think that's possible," his son whispered. His voice sounded

Slightly awed.

“We were going to start for the fourth time when Yasna knocked on the door. I wasn't sure I could do it."

Josh snickered, then caught himself as Althea pinned him with a hard look, making him feel Like a teenager who had been caught passing notes in study hall.

“I have been giving thought," she said, “about what to do about our

Kincaid problem. I cannot protect all of you all the time, and neither can we all huddle here like frightened children until he comes bursting through the front door.

“You must be protected. Josh and I are crafting a sword which I will use to dispatch him, when the opportunity presents itself. But it has occurred to me that I can do something similar for all of you, albeit on a smaller scale.

“In my world, the spirit world, symbolism is important. The sword was the tool used to dispose of one's enemies for millennia. As such, it has symbolic weight which you will not find in a gun or any other modern weapon.” A quick, blinding smile.

“But you have objects in your own Lives which have their own symbolic importance. Which mean more to you than their mere physical form would suggest.

“Find them. Bring them to me. And with your help I will imbue them with the power you will need to drive away the demon-spawn, should he ever approach you.

“They should be small. But precious to you. And if at all possible, they should be items which could, as a matter of last resort, be used as weapons. They will have much more power that way. Both for yourselves, and against our enemy.”

They scattered, heading towards the house, except for Josh, who remained where he was. Althea looked at him quizzically.