“Manhattan was already lost when the veil tore,” Fenrir replied before biting down on a zombie and shaking his head so rapidly the bones flew apart.
Jono hated the taste of zombies. No wonder Wade complained so much about eating them and demons. Thinking of Wade made worry rise to the forefront of his mind again. Jono didn’t know where they were or how they were doing, and the uncertainty ate at him.
“Your pessimism is, as always, unwanted, cousin.”
“Watch your left.”
Órlaith twisted in her saddle and slammed the spearpoint through the rotting head of a zombie about to claw her steed. She shifted position, putting space between them to better cover the area they’d been pushed to.
Around them, werecreatures savaged zombies before darting out of the way so soldiers could fire spelled bullets at the walking dead. The sheer number of zombies pouring out of Grand Central Station was enough to overwhelm an army, and they weren’t even that. What they did have was gods walking the earth once more, and Jono wondered how many survivors of this mess would vow to worship them. The cynical part of him wondered if maybe that was the whole point of this fight.
Despite Peklabog’s stomach-churning appearance, the god could put down more zombies than Spencer. Between him and Baba Yaga, they rerouted zombies into areas where magic users other than Spencer could take them down. Stragglers got pushed down the street into kill box areas, but those stragglers were turning into a wave at this point.
Jono’s people had pushed south, keeping on the street that ran parallel to the Park Avenue Viaduct. They fought to hold their ground with soldiers and police officers. Jono knew he couldn’t leave until Reed had the situation under control, but that might be wishful thinking at this point.
Especially when the hunters showed up.
Hidden by the fog and the noise of the battle already happening, Jono didn’t realize hunters had arrived until shots rang out from behind where they stood facing Grand Central. A couple of soldiers went down, and their fellow fighters had to hurriedly pitch their bodies outside the barriers.
Jono was saved from taking a bullet by virtue of being surrounded by zombies. He snarled and spun to face the new threat walking out of the fog. Jono tossed back his head and howled a warning that was taken up by other werecreatures. Soldiers and police officers shouted to each other as they worked to split their forces to deal with the heavily armed hunters.
Jono barreled his way forward through zombies, shaking off their grasping hands, to take cover near a barricade of cars. The police hunkered down in that questionable safety barely gave him a second glance, all their focus on the hunters taking indiscriminate aim at the battlefield.
Carmen landed lightly beside him, having dropped down from the viaduct to his right. She knelt beside him, shouldering an RPG with deft hands. Jono cocked his wolf head at her and eyed her weapon, noticing the lack of a reload.
“Reed is attempting to seal the entrances to Grand Central Station with something more permanent. Nadine is with him, so there is no defensive magic to spare this way,” Carmen said.
Then she stood in one swift motion, aimed, and fired the RPG in the direction of the hunters. The burn of explosives and magic stung Jono’s nose as the large grenade flew toward its target. The hunters had brought magic users with them, and he expected their shield to hold up against the attack.
It didn’t.
The grenade slammed right through the magical barrier, whatever spell adhered to the grenade forcing its way through to the other side. The crackling magic of the broken shield couldn’t be reset fast enough to block the attack. When it exploded, pieces of bodies went flying far enough they got lost in the zombies. Jono hoped they wouldn’t get resurrected.
Carmen ducked back down and tossed the now empty RPG over the barricade of abandoned cars. “Military-grade spell. Messy, but useful.”
Jono wasn’t about to complain, but a quick glance down the road showed the one explosion had merely dented the hunters’ forces. He growled, not sure how they were going to get out from where they were cornered between zombies and hunters. Peklabog and Baba Yaga had their hands full closer to Grand Central Station, and Jono wasn’t sure they’d leave their feast of the dead if he called for help.
Ashanti landed on a nearby car, crunching the hood before vaulting off it to reach Jono’s side. The mother of all vampires had bits of blood and rotten flesh sticking to her clothes, her hands messy from tearing through bodies alive and dead alike.
“This is unsustainable, cousin. We must leave,” Ashanti said flatly.
No, Jono thought, forcing Fenrir to listen.
“We cannot give up ground,” Fenrir said for Jono.
Ashanti’s lips curled over her iron fangs. “We lose it if we stay.”
As if to prove a point, bullets ripped through the air, forcing everyone to take cover. Jono breathed in a lungful of rot tinged with ozone, the dead coming closer despite the hail of bullets tearing through the advancing horde. Cutting through the slower-moving bones and decaying bodies were the elongated forms of drekavacs, their inhuman eyes locked on prey.
The soldiers and police were forced to split their focus between the zombies and the hunters, creating more crossfire that Jono’s people couldn’t fight through. Werecreatures were forced to the edge of the street, at risk of being boxed in. Fenrir clawed at his mind and soul, searching for complete control, expecting Jono to give it.
He would have if the world didn’t erupt in dragon fire.
The thunderous roar made his ears ring badly enough Jono had to dial down his hearing. The searing heat of dragon fire coming from above was hot enough to melt asphalt. The negative flashes of light that signaled demons fleeing dying hosts were almost impossible to see in the flame that burned through the magic to bodies behind shields. Jono looked up at the sky, expecting to see Reed, but the fire dragon whose beating wings forced the fog aside was a welcome, unexpected sight.
Wade landed on the Park Avenue Viaduct with a building-shaking arrival, his long, sinuous neck extending farther out as he belched more flame at the enemy. Magic couldn’t hold against dragon fire, and what spells the hunters had cast broke beneath the fire. Those who could flee down side streets did so, most likely running into the arms of Reed’s people to hopefully be cut down.
Jono howled a welcome as Wade folded his wings against his back, long tail lashing out behind him as he turned his focus to burning up the dead once the hunters on the street were eradicated. As Wade shifted position on the viaduct, Jono caught a glimpse of three people scrambling off his back. Jono’s heart skipped a beat, the relief flooding through him like a balm on his frayed nerves.
Jono wasted no time in using his preternatural strength to claw his way up the Park Avenue Viaduct, momentarily safe from bullets with Wade the bigger distraction. When he made it to the street level, Leon had already shifted to his wolf form, guarding Marek and Sage.
Marek had his arm wrapped protectively around Sage’s waist, hand low on her hip in deference of the gut wound she still suffered from. Sage was pale to the point of looking as if she would pass out, but the tight set to her mouth was a stubbornness Jono knew well. Both were soaked to the bone from flying through the reactionary storm.
He took a risk and shifted back to human, Fenrir forcing the change so quick he nearly vomited once he stood on two feet. Shaking his head, Jono hurried to where Sage and Marek stood, Wade having yet to move from his crouched position. The rancid smell of burning bodies was too much for even the wind and the rain to push aside, and it drifted up to them with a foulness that made Jono’s throat itch.
“How did you find us?” Jono asked once he was in earshot.
“The explosions were kind of hard to miss,” Marek said, teeth chattering a bit.
“Wade and Leon got us out of Bellevue once the veil tore,” Sage said.
Jono wrapped his arm around Sage’s shoulders, providing her support to lean on, breathing in her scent. “You shoul
d’ve stayed in the ICU.”
Sage shook her head, wavering on her feet a little. The hospital gown she wore clung to her skin wetly, and she felt cool to the touch in a way that was worrisome. Werecreatures had higher core temperatures, and she wasn’t anywhere close to that heat at the moment.
She looked him in the eye, blinking slowly. “I wasn’t leaving you to fight alone.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I tried that argument with her already. It didn’t work,” Marek said.
Jono grimaced. “Clearly.”
Sage nudged him in the side with her elbow. “Wade got us out from downtown. We didn’t have much trouble flying up here. He seemed to know where to go.”
“Reed’s here. Maybe that’s why.”
Marek lifted one shoulder, drawing attention to the rucksack he carried. “I have Wade’s clothes in here. I wasn’t sure if you wanted him to shift back to human or not, but he was adamant about not running around naked in the streets.”
Another burst of fire from Wade aimed below on the street sent a wave of heat their way. Jono eyed Wade critically. Manhattan streets were too narrow and hemmed in on all sides by tall buildings for Wade to safely traverse even on a clear day, much less the strange twilight they were currently fighting in amidst the veil.
“Wade,” Jono yelled. “Shift back to human.”
Wade twisted his long neck back around, one large golden eye blinking down at him from his wedge head. He spat another burst of fire at the street in a different direction, though the force of it was lessened some. Then he shifted mass with a rapidness that left his body a blur until he appeared as human, crouched between two cars he’d crunched flat upon landing.
“Am I glad to see you!” Wade yelled before sprinting their way.
Marek shrugged off the rucksack and tossed it to Wade, who hurriedly got dressed in clothes that got immediately wet from the rain. Red scales shined along his neck and face, pushing through skin. His eyes remained gold, and the smoke coming out of his nose was torn away by the wind.
“Are you all right?” Jono asked.
Wade shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers, staying low to the ground as gunfire sounded through the air from the street below. “I’m fine. Where’s Patrick?”
Jono shook his head. “Not here.”
A stricken expression crossed Wade’s face. “Still missing?”
“Gerard and the Hellraisers went to get him back with Hermes’ help. I’m hoping they arrive soon.”
“You can’t feel him?” Sage asked.
Jono’s mouth twisted. “We’re past the veil, or it passed us. Until he’s back with us, I can’t feel him through the soulbond.”
Even then, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to. He’d been trying, but whatever distance stretched between them was too far for him to know where Patrick was. Jono could only hope he was alive and unharmed.
An explosion had them all ducking low, Sage nearly falling over. Between Jono and Marek, they kept her upright.
“What was that?” Wade asked.
Jono craned his head around, looking at the smoke rising up from Grand Central Station. “I think they blew the entrances to keep the zombies from getting out.”
“That won’t stop them,” Sage said, one arm tucked around her middle. She held herself stiffly, breathing tightly through her clenched teeth. The scent of pain rolled off her, making Jono feel helpless about being unable to help her. “We learned that in Paris.”
The zombies had come up from the Paris Metro at every stop they’d pushed past in that city. Jono figured Manhattan would be the same. Reed’s plan to bury the dead wasn’t going to stop them from clawing their way up another subway stop farther down the line.
“We need to keep heading downtown. Whatever altar Ethan will use, it won’t be built on houses but skyscrapers.”
Fenrir growled agreement on that through his mind, the god’s surety like ice in Jono’s veins. The chill came from within, not the rain beating down on his bare shoulders.
Leon snarled a warning, and Jono’s head jerked up, attention focusing on the threat coming their way out of the broken windows of Grand Central Station. Drekavacs flung themselves onto the road of the viaduct, having found a way out like Jono knew they would’ve. The barricade that Reed had set up at the viaduct’s intersection had either been abandoned or fallen, because there was no one in that area to stand their ground.
“Fuck,” he said.
“Oh, I hate those things,” Wade groaned. “You sure you don’t want me to shift and eat them?”
“We can’t risk you bringing a building down on top of us. Guard Sage and Marek. Leon and I will handle them.”
“You got it.”
Jono sucked in a breath and exhaled harshly before shifting again. The ache in his bones faded as his nerves were turned off, leaving behind no pain as his body broke itself down into wolf form. When he stood on all four legs, the drekavacs were halfway to their position.
Leon planted himself beside Jono, lips curled up over his fangs as he snarled a challenge at the oncoming, fast-moving zombies. Jono was absolutely done with fucking zombies. Too bad no one told the drekavacs that.
The horde coming their way was ten strong, quick and vicious. Two werewolves might not be enough to hold them off, even with Fenrir riding his soul, so it was probably a good thing Wade was incandescently angry and willing to spit fire at any who got close to his position. Dodging the fire while dodging teeth and claws as Jono went in for the kill time and time again meant he and Leon had to spread out along the road between abandoned cars.
Space was tight, and while they didn’t have to contend with bullets on the viaduct, the drekavacs weren’t easy adversaries. They were worse than the slower-moving bodies taken from Paris or graves. But the zombies weren’t the only problem they had to contend with though.
Wade’s panicked warning shout caught Jono’s ear. He spat out a broken arm before looking behind him at where Wade now stood with his back to them. Coming through the fog up the viaduct from the street level was a group of all-too-familiar jaguar constructs.
Sodding hell. More gods.
“We need to get off the viaduct,” Sage said from where she stood wrapped up in Marek’s arms.
Both easy routes were blocked. Their only option was to jump, but Jono wasn’t sure Sage had strength enough to hold on to him. Jono howled, calling for help from the packs and any vampires or fae who could be spared.
The help that arrived was unexpected.
Lightning flashed directly overhead, and the thunder that boomed through the air sounded like a continuous drum. The jaguars paused in their advance up the viaduct, and their hesitation cost them. Spears thrown from above lodged themselves in the constructs, shattering the jaguars into so many pieces of obsidian.
Jono looked up at the sky over Grand Central Station and howled a welcome to the valkyries on their pegasi flying toward them. Joining them was Hinon, the Haudenosaunee thunder god’s huge, storm-colored wings flapping powerfully in the air. Lightning crackled around the god, and he aimed several bolts to strike the enemy on the ground.
Over a dozen valkyries dived to their position, picking off the remaining drekavacs as they flew over the viaduct. Several landed lightly on the road amidst the rubble and shattered bits of the jaguars. Brynhildr was in the lead, with Thor seated behind her astride her pegasus.
She leaned over and gripped a spear embedded in the road, yanking it free with inhuman strength. She straightened up in the saddle, eyes blazing in her face. “We heard the call and came as quickly as we could through the veil.”
Thor slid off the pegasus behind her, Mjölnir clenched tightly in one fist. Lightning crackled around the hammer, crawling up his arms, but he didn’t appear bothered by it. “Well met, cousin.”
“You made decent time,” Fenrir said.
“Would’ve been faster if the veil wasn’t spreading where it shouldn’t. Containment will be difficult, if it’s not
already too late,” Thor said.
Fenrir snapped Jono’s teeth together. “This is a god’s beginning we shall end.”
Thor’s smile was cold and vicious, eyes dark with memory Jono could feel was shared with Fenrir. “May your hunger be all-consuming.”
“Eir,” Brynhildr called out. “Tend to the wounded.”
The young-looking valkyrie slid off her saddle with ease, clutching a spear in one hand. Jono watched as she ran toward Sage, who watched her come with wide eyes. Jono didn’t know what the immortal was going to do, but he wasn’t going to stop her if it meant Sage could stand upright for longer than ten seconds without support.
Another explosion echoed through the air, smoke drifting on the wind from around the corner behind them. Jono blinked rainwater out of his eyes, seeing more zombies climbing out of the ruined windows of Grand Central. Sparks of Spencer’s magic flashed over zombies, but he couldn’t see where Peklabog or Baba Yaga had got to.
Hinon streaked toward them in a tight dive, his massive wings folded behind him. When he landed, the road shook with his impact, but he appeared unaffected. “Where is Patrick?”
“Not here,” Ashanti rasped as she vaulted over the side of the viaduct, landing lightly on her bone hooks amidst scattered skeletons.
“His absence is not a way to win a war.”
“It is being handled.”
“By who?”
“Cú Chulainn.”
Hinon pursed his lips before shrugging, the arch of his wings moving with the motion. “We can only hope he is successful.”
Whatever else anyone was going to say, it was drowned out by the screaming cries of the Sluagh breaking free of the clouds above. The valkyries still in the air let out a challenging war cry as they reformed ranks between the skyscrapers.
“Eir!” Brynhildr called out.
“I’m almost done!” Eir shouted back, not taking her hands off Sage. She and Marek knelt on the road with Wade hovering protectively beside them while Eir used her power to heal what modern medicine couldn’t.
Brynhildr spun her spear to get a better grip and tipped her head in Thor’s and Hinon’s direction. “We will hold off the Sluagh.”
A Veiled & Hallowed Eve Page 27