The reactionary storm had finally, fully made it to shore. Snow was dropping furiously all over the city. Jono wouldn’t be surprised if whiteout conditions happened within the next half hour. All that mattered was that they got to Au Hall before visibility dropped to zero.
Patrick was focused on the road, the snow swirling in front of them dipping through the flashing colors of the SUV’s emergency lights. Jono didn’t try to draw him into conversation, but that changed when they drove across a bridge spanning the Chicago River. Jono didn’t expect Wade to frantically smack them both on the shoulder.
“There’s something in the water,” Wade said.
Jono craned his head around, trying to peer through the snow beyond the window. He looked at Wade, who almost had his face pressed up against the fogged window.
“How the hell can you see anything in this weather?” Patrick wanted to know.
“I, uh, can feel it? It’s big.”
“Kid can sniff out gods,” Jono reminded him, still squinting through the snow.
“The kid is right,” Hermes said.
Wade scowled at Jono and Hermes, his brown eyes gold with reptilian slit pupils. “I’m not a kid.”
“Hide your eyes, Wade,” Patrick said. “Whatever is in the river can wait.”
Jono wasn’t so sure about that, but Patrick was in charge at the moment. Right now their priority was getting to Au Hall. If a monster was in the river, they’d deal with it after they saved Thor and found Odin.
They drove off the bridge, and Wade settled back down in his seat. No one spoke as Patrick maneuvered them through city streets, aiming for the stretch of road running parallel to Grant Park. When he finally turned onto South Michigan Avenue, the steering wheel slipped through his grip from the howling wind that slammed into the vehicle. Jono grabbed it and held it steady until Patrick got a better grip and straightened out the SUV.
“Thanks,” Patrick muttered.
Jono let the steering wheel go. “’Course, love.”
They’d left the wall of skyscrapers and its steel buffer behind them. The ferocity of the reactionary storm blew across the open shores of Lake Michigan with a roar that almost drowned out the SUV’s sirens.
“If we have to fight in this, I’m going to freeze,” Wade said.
“What do you meanif?” Patrick asked.
A single bright headlight flashed across the rearview mirror before disappearing. It was replaced by another, and being almost boxed in made Jono tense. A mageglobe flared into existence near Patrick’s elbow, and Jono shifted claws out of his fingertips. The roar of a motorcycle cut through the storm, and Jono flexed his fingers. Jono tracked the shadow as the dark shape on Patrick’s side of the road pulled up alongside the SUV.
“That’s Brynhildr and Dynfari,” Wade said, sounding excited. “And Eir!”
Jono forced his claws back, leaving his hands human-shaped for the moment. The valkyries followed them up the street as far as they could go until they hit a police blockade at the intersection near Au Hall. Patrick turned and pulled over to the curb. He killed the engine and tossed the keys in the glove compartment. The lights and sirens switched off, but the roar of the wind never faltered.
“Ready?” Jono asked, fingers curling over the door handle.
Patrick nodded. “Let’s go.”
Jono shoved open the SUV door and stepped out into freezing cold. Despite always running hot, the cold stung his skin. Brynhildr and Eir jumped the curb and pulled up onto the sidewalk. Jono rounded the SUV and helped Patrick get his door open so he could get out.
Both valkyries raised the visors on their helmets, Patrick’s mageglobe washing pale blue light over their eyes and the grim expressions on their faces.
“We’ve been searching for you,” Brynhildr practically yelled to be heard over the wind. “We can’t reach Thor.”
Jono closed Patrick’s door once he was out of the way. Wade and Hermes had made it out of the SUV and onto the sidewalk. Jono had to grab Wade by the collar of his sweater and hold him back when the teenager would’ve gone to greet the valkyries.
“The SOA’s necromancer raised the dead today. Body we found was Dean Westberg. Someone’s been impersonating him since probably last week,” Patrick said.
Eir turned her head, staring at Hermes. “Cousin. What are you doing here? You’ve never cared for Chicago.”
Hermes wasn’t dressed for the weather, but the cold didn’t seem to bother him. “I’ve never cared for the bridges your pantheon builds to the other side. You’ve misplaced a hole in New York City. Feel free to take it back.”
“Ginnungagap goes where it likes,” Brynhildr said.
