Fergus placed a large box of cartridges on the table and three shotguns with blunt grips and suspiciously short barrels. He looked up at me and curled his index finger. I obeyed the summons, and watched carefully as he demonstrated how to load and fire the weapon. He handed it to me, grip first and I held it, gingerly at first, and pointed carefully at the ground. The grip fit surprisingly well into my hand, and I quickly became used to its strangely comforting weight. I nodded my thanks to Fergus, who grinned back and started packing the pockets of his leather coat with cartridges. I followed his lead and stuffed a handful or two into the pockets of my jacket. I had never fired a gun before, but desperate times needed desperate measures, apparently.
Julia locked the door leading into the house, and pocketed the key. She had sent the staff home earlier, and the place was eerily quiet. I went to sit on the edge of the table, and watched through the windows as nothing happened outside, the shotgun resting across my thighs.
Oliver half sat, half leaned against a corner of the table, one leg dangling, while he strapped what looked like carbon fibre wrist guards onto his forearms. He flicked a switch on one, and several short curved blades appeared on its surface as if by magic. Another flick of the switch and they were gone. He had replaced his shirt with a sleeveless black leather tunic that fit his torso as if it had been moulded to it. Tiny plates gleamed dully like scales in the leather. He had a knife sheath strapped over his jeans on his right thigh, and a double bladed sword rested on the table next to him. Apparently he hadn't been joking when he'd said he liked to fight. He certainly looked well prepared.
I thought longingly of Angus, and wondered where he was right now. It had been about thirty minutes since he'd phoned, and I knew it would be at least another hour before he could be here with us. I glanced around the room, at Fergus with his two shotguns, at Julia with her knives, and Marcus with his crossbow, and at Oliver, and I wondered if Jack was even going to try to attack us here. I sincerely hoped not. I had never been in a fight in my life, apart from the brief and infrequent altercations with Shanice, the school thug. These guys looked like they did this for a living. I felt I had to point out my deficiencies.
"I have no idea how to fight," I explained, keeping it short and simple. Julia chuckled.