Lucien’s black eyes narrowed to slits. “We burned the buildings to the ground with all the soldiers in them, but they had mage priests we could not fight against and win.”
Tremaine didn’t have any manpower left for him to wreak havoc like that, but he had a god. One god, one powerful god who personified death, along with his own sadistic upbringing. Tremaine’s words and his raw pride flashed through Patrick’s mind.
He could barely get his numb lips to shape the syllables. “He learned that lesson well.”
“And what lesson is that? I taught him many.”
Raze and ruin and Stanilesti.
Lucien was known in history for his salted-earth policy. For leaving nothing behind that his enemies could possibly use while he moved on—exactly what Tremaine was doing now. Only tonight it wasn’t about a town where two armies went to war against a Night Court but a huge metropolitan city held up by tunnels that could bring it tumbling down around the lives of millions of people.
The body count this time would be one for the history books.
“He’s still in the fucking subway tunnels. The barrier ward won’t be enough as a patch if they break the anchors,” Patrick said, mouth gone bone-dry.
He fumbled out his phone from his pocket, dialing Casale’s personal line. It picked up almost immediately.
“What the fuck was that light show just now?” Casale demanded. “And was that adragonthat just flew overhead?”
“Evacuate the subways and Grand Central. Don’t let anyone inside. I’m coming to you,” Patrick said.
“Collins—”
“Santa Muerte is stillhere, Casale. She’s still looking for sacrifices, and they’re going to blow the fucking protective wards in the subway to sacrifice everyone in it to power their prayers to her. I need to know where the central anchor point for the protective wards is located.”
“It’s in the M42 sub-basement here in Grand Central. I’ll send—”
“You’ll send no one. I just said keep everyone the fuck out of there. I’ll deal with Tremaine and Santa Muerte.” Patrick ended the call. “Rats and their fucking tunnels.”
“We need transport to Grand Central,” Lucien said.
Carmen slipped past Einar, nodding at the squad cars closest to them. “Keys are still in the ignition.”
Looked like they were stealing a couple of cop cars.
They’d be noticed instantly, and Patrick didn’t have time to talk about why he and a bunch of vampires needed the vehicles. Áltsé Hashké made sure he didn’t have to.
“They will not see you leave,” the god said.
The world slowed around them, as if time was standing still when Patrick knew that was impossible. Áltsé Hashké stood on the outskirts of the crowd of frozen police officers and federal agents. The trickster god watched them with unblinking yellow eyes, mouth quirked at the corners, as if he knew a secret none of them were privy to.
“That building is about to come down. The werecreatures we saved don’t deserve to die in it,” Patrick said.
“The children will be kept safe.”
Patrick knew better than to ask for a promise from a god, so he kept his mouth shut. He looked at Jono and Sage, realizing their bulk wouldn’t fit in the back seat of any car.
“Can you keep up?” Patrick asked.
Both of them nodded their large heads, and Patrick took their silent confirmation at face value. He climbed into the driver’s seat of the nearest cop car, unsurprised when Lucien joined him. Lucien didn’t bother with a seat belt, too interested in the computer setup hooked to the dash.
Patrick put the car in reverse, slammed his foot on the gas pedal, and hit the sirens. The world snapped back to normal once he hit the cross-street with Jono and Sage pacing the vehicle.
The drive uptown to Grand Central was chaotic, but they got there. Jono and Sage easily kept up. The three cop cars and two werecreatures made a strange sight on the street, but the white vehicles with blue-striped NYPD detailing were enough to keep everyone out of their way.
Manhattan was a grid laid out in one-way streets. They took Sixth Avenue all the way up to East Forty-Second Street. The closer they got, the more crowded it got. A sea of people was moving away from the transit hub on order of the police. Some of them started panicking once they caught sight of Jono and Sage, and that was a stampede Patrick didn’t need to deal with.
Patrick parked and left the keys in the ignition. Jono and Sage moved up to stand beside him as Einar, Carmen, and half a dozen other vampires who’d ridden in the other two cars joined them.
