Fatima let out a yowl that made Patrick wince, though it only served to make Wade twist around to face her direction with a quick smile. “Fatima!”
The sound of someone landing heavily from a great height came from behind them. Patrick looked over his shoulder in time to see Spencer scramble out of Takoma’s hold to get both feet on the ground. Past Spencer, Patrick could see Emma skidding to a stop beside Leon, bumping noses in a quick greeting.
“Oh, good. Gerard managed to save your ass,” Spencer said, a mageglobe already in hand.
“Did you doubt him?” Patrick asked.
“Never.”
“What happened back there?”
“Reed blew a bunch of bombs to bring down the Park Avenue Viaduct. The zombies will have to scatter now. Peklabog and Baba Yaga are feeding on the rest to give Reed’s forces time to get clear and make it to new positions.” Spencer blinked rapidly beneath his hard helmet, his gaze a little distant. “Maybe we should ask them to come up here and take point.”
Patrick faced forward again, watching as Spencer’s magic rolled through the zombies, Fatima dancing through bones as she swallowed souls whole. “Break as many souls as you can for now. We’re heading for the Morgan Library.”
The fight down to East Thirty-Seventh Street was a hard push through a line of demon-backed hunters, zombies, and dive-bombing Sluagh. Nadine’s shield held against spelled bullets while the Night Marchers targeted hunters. The valkyries and Hinon did their best to force the Sluagh back, and Patrick kept having to talk Wade down from shifting mass and joining the aerial battle.
“You’ll bring a skyscraper down on us, and that’s the last thing we need,” Patrick shouted as they finally turned the corner on East Thirty-Seventh Street, breaking through a barricade held by hunters.
“Ugh, fine,” Wade complained right before he spat dragon fire at a hunter’s face.
The agonized scream was drowned out by Jono’s snarl as he nearly bit a hunter in half, the hole left behind in the body’s trunk bloody and spilling out organs. The negative light of a demon fleeing left Patrick blinking to clear his vision. When the hunter’s body started to rise off the street, called to fight by the Morrígan’s staff, Spencer put the soul to rest.
The vampires covering Spencer were a mix of Lucien’s and Takoma’s Night Courts. With Peklabog and Baba Yaga having fucked off to wherever, Spencer was their heavy-hitter against the dead. If he went down, they’d be backed into a corner.
The narrow street was lined on either side by apartment buildings, none with lights on, but all surrounded by enough magic it made the hair on the back of Patrick’s neck stand on end. The reason became apparent when several doors opened up down the length of the street and nearly two dozen magic users stepped out past their thresholds. Patrick mentally placed where they were and realized they’d reached a block where covens had promised defensive support.
Lucien ejected the empty magazine from his carbine and reloaded in a swift motion. “Get to the library. Ashanti is waiting for you there.”
She’d gone on ahead some time ago, and Patrick had lost sight of her in the fight. Jono stepped close, ducking his massive wolf head low to shove at Patrick’s hip. The burning white of his eyes was a sure sign it wasn’t Jono urging him on but Fenrir.
“I’m going,” Patrick snapped.
The violet glow of Nadine’s magic created a dome over the two blocks. At either end of the street, thick brambles broke through the asphalt, shoving abandoned cars aside. The living wall was courtesy of Órlaith, still astride her steed and following in Gerard’s wake.
Those were the only two immortals Patrick could see. He didn’t know where the others had gone off to; he only hoped they were still fighting.
Wade threw himself over the hood of a car and landed next to Patrick. “The library’s entrance is on Madison Avenue.”
Patrick really needed to check Wade’s apartment hoard when this was all over.
It wasn’t a retreat so much as a hard-fought-for break in the battle. The coven magic users on this block were focused on defending both ends of the street. The Hellraisers, werecreatures, and most of the vampires and fae took time to deal with any wounded, reload their weapons, and rest.
Patrick and his pack, Nadine, Spencer, Marek, Lucien, and Carmen double-timed it to the Morgan Library and Museum on Madison Avenue. The contemporary front of the building was situated between two buildings with older-style architecture. The floor-to-ceiling windows lining the ground floor had been shattered in one area. Patrick could see Ashanti standing amidst the broken glass inside.
“I thought vampires couldn’t enter without permission?” Wade muttered.
“It’s a public building,” Patrick said.
Screams from the Sluagh made Patrick glance up, staring past Nadine’s shield. The spirits clawed at the magic only to be driven off by a trio of valkyries.
“Let’s get this over with. I don’t want to hold this shield up forever if we have the rest of Manhattan to fight through,” Nadine said, striding inside the library.
Glass crunched underfoot as they entered the building, the quiet hush of the place interrupted by the shrieks of the battle outside. Patrick cast witchlights into the air, and Nadine and Spencer did the same to help light the space. The lobby was done up in pale hardwood floors and darker wooden paneling for the walls interspaced in the entrance. Patrick could see a set of stairs just past the empty security desk.
“Are we doing the blood rite here?” Wade asked.
“It’s not defensible,” Spencer said.
