The grinding sound of bones breaking and reforming made Patrick wince. He never looked away from the twisting bodies of fur that became skin, limbs settling from wolf to human. Jono shook his head to clear it, remaining crouched on one knee, naked and streaked with blood that wasn’t all his.
The woman who knelt on the other side of Sage had skin so dark it looked glossy in the sunlight. Her hair was twisted into Bantu knots, and her dark brown eyes were locked on Jono. She said something in rapid French that made Jono shake his head.
“Sorry, don’t speak French,” he said.
“You are not with our god pack,” the woman said in heavily accented French.
“Passing through.”
“What caused this?”
“Bloke with a god complex. We’re trying to get to the Eiffel Tower.”
She gave him a troubled look. “That way lies certain death. My pack and I had to swim across the Seine for safety. The Left Bank is overrun with zombies.”
Patrick looked across the square and the smudge of swarming zombies he could see beyond the obelisk where the Pont de la Concorde started. “So is the Right Bank. Nowhere in Paris will be safe until we take down the one responsible for all this. If you keep trying to run, you’ll be overwhelmed, and the last thing any of us need is a zombie werewolf.”
“We tried to help people to safety but the zombies were too much.”
“That’s probably going to happen on this side of the Seine. You can keep pushing through to your homes and risk getting boxed in and killed, or get behind the shields here in this building,” Patrick said.
The woman glanced at Jono, her full lips twisting. “Paris is our home. Hiding will not save it.”
“Everyone is without communications all across the city. If you’re willing to fight, do you think you and your pack could run relays between police headquarters on Île de la Cité and the Ministry of Magical Affairs?” Nadine asked.
The woman blinked before her expression hardened. “Oui. There are fifteen of us in my pack.”
“I’ll pull one of the police officers from their duties here, and they can act as a liaison once we get you to the Ministry.”
It was a risky endeavor, but connecting two major groups of first responders would be helpful in the long run. Patrick met Jono’s gaze and gave him a nod.
“I have a plan to get across the bridge,” Patrick said.
Jono sighed, resting both hands on the ground. “Will the bridge survive?”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Spencer called out from behind them.
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Oh, fuck you both. Let’s get moving.”
Jono and the woman shifted back into their animal forms, Jono towering over her slimmer bulk. Patrick looked around until he spied Wade standing behind a car and stuffing his face with the last of his cookies.
“Wade, I’m going to need you to stay with me up front,” Patrick said.
Wade rushed over, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. It didn’t do much but smear cookie crumbs across his cheek. “Yeah?”
Patrick reached out and tugged him close, looking Wade in the eyes. “We’re going to push forward as much as we can. When I tell you to, I want you to firebomb the zombies without shifting. Can you do that?”
Wade hesitated a moment before squaring his shoulders and nodding determinedly. “Yeah, I can do it.”
Patrick clapped him on the shoulder. “Great. I’ll be right by your side. Just do what I say, when I say it, and don’t get distracted.”
“Okay. No distractions.”
Wade dug one last smushed cookie from his pocket, shoved it in his mouth, and chewed. He looked a little wide-eyed and worried, but not overly frightened, which was all Patrick could hope for in the situation.
Less than a minute later they moved out, Nadine dropping her shield as the last officer hustled inside the building. Patrick sensed the sorceress’ magic rise over the entrance, and he wished her all the best in keeping everyone safe.
The lone police officer who’d volunteered to come with them stuck close. Nadine scrambled on top of a car to get a better view of the square. Patrick joined her, scanning the area. Zombies were coming from the east and west, pouring out of the two parks on either side of the square. They looked newly dead compared to the dense movement of old skeletons lurching across the bridge south of them.
