They back down, but not before Carmen gets off a parting shot. “I’m the man in charge ’ere.”
“Really, Hugo,” Miss McCleethy chides.
“Hugo?” I say, wide-eyed. I see a grin pulling at Damion’s lips.
Carmen’s face darkens. “Promised you wouldn’t call me that.”
“The dead come. They come, they come…,” Mother Elena mutters, bringing us back to the terrible task at hand.
“How do we keep them out?” I ask.
“Mark the windows and doors,” she says. “And still it may not be enough.”
“We can’t possibly mark every door and window,” I say.
“We’ll do what we can,” Damion says.
Mother Elena has us mix chicken blood and ashes, which she pours into bowls and gives to us all. When the doors to the great room swing open, we sweep in, our faces grim with purpose. The girls gasp upon seeing Mother Elena
