“But if we were human, you’d see us as fair game, is that it?” Patrick asked.
“Please let me go,” the teenager begged, eyes wide and stinking up the whole area with his fear. “Don’t—don’t bring the god pack around here.”
Jono opened his mouth to respond when Patrick swore and moved past him, a mageglobe sparking into existence at shoulder height.
“Jono,” Patrick snapped.
He looked in the direction Patrick was headed, down the cross street that cut deeper into Rainriver and became a car park. The tiered wing of the council estate they were near came with patios, and a group of creatures were flinging themselves down the building one level at a time with a swiftness Jono knew meant trouble.
They lookedwrong, stretched out limbs and torsos giving the human bodies an almost animalistic appearance. As the creatures threw themselves off the building and drew closer, Jono realized their heads were larger than their bodies. The sluggish breeze was blowing in the opposite direction, which was why Jono hadn’t smelled them.
He unclenched his fingers from the teenager’s shirt. The teen stumbled when his feet hit the ground, falling on his bum. Jono paid him only enough attention to growl, “Get the fuck inside.”
The teenagers scattered. Patrick was already racing toward the threat. Jono followed, closing the distance between them in half a second.
“What are they?”
“Drekavac,” Patrick said, dagger already in hand.
“In English, mate.”
Patrick’s mageglobe multiplied, and Jono knew that wasn’t a good sign. “A type of undead.”
Jono flexed his hands, fingertips splitting around the beginnings of claws. “Zombies?”
“Close enough.”
“Think that necromancer summoned them?”
“Someone did.” Patrick shot him a look, green eyes reflecting the pale blue light of his mageglobes. “Don’t shift.”
Jono gestured angrily at the small horde of demonic-looking zombies running toward them. “You want me to stay human whilst we face off against those bloody things? Not on your fucking life.”
“For once, could you just listen?” Patrick shot back before he snagged one of his mageglobes and threw it at the oncoming drekavacs.
Raw magic exploded in the middle of the group, but the fuckers were fast, and all but one escaped the blast radius. Black asphalt rose into the air before coming down on the surrounding parked vehicles, crashing through numerous windows and denting metal.
The drekavacs screamed a warning, the shrill sound enough to shatter a couple more windows. Jono resisted the urge to cover his ears, dialing down his hearing for a couple of seconds to save it before risking sound again.
“What are they? Part banshee?” Jono asked.
Patrick didn’t answer, too busy flinging a magical strike at the undead while digging out his mobile. He tossed it to Jono, who caught it with one hand.
“Call Nadine. Tell her what’s going on,” Patrick said before flinging another mageglobe at the drekavacs, which the lanky bastards dodged with preternatural speed. “She needs to get the WSA to get eyes on CCTV around this place, and then you need to get the hell out of here.”
“I’m not fucking leaving you.”
“The WSAcan’tknow about you. The only way they won’t know is if you get the fuck away.”
Jono unlocked Patrick’s mobile and speed-dialed Nadine. “Sorry, you’re speakingidiotagain. There’s CCTV all around. It doesn’t matter if I stay or go, they’ll see me anyway, so piss off with your suggestion that I walk away.”
Patrick snarled wordlessly, irritation in the curl of his lips. Jono ignored him and his stupid bloody idea of standing his ground alone.
“Did you find anything, Collins?” Nadine said in lieu of a hello.
“Sorry, not Pat. He’s a bit tied up at the moment with some zombies,” Jono said.
Nadine swore. “Where?”
