She raised a shield as ordered, barely getting it up in time. The wave of magic Andras called forth through Ilya hit like a punch. Nadine went down on one knee, and Spencer didn’t even look when he reached for her, dragging her back upright. Fatima yowled loudly, her small furry head looking up with concern at Spencer.
Around them, souls were fed back into the dead, the Morrígan’s staff commanding them to rise again. In the handful of seconds it took for them to reorient themselves, Ares appeared in front of Odin, blocking the Allfather’s passage.
“Odin,” Ares said, standing tall and proud amidst demons. “You chose the wrong side. When we came to you in Chicago, you should have committed to a hell that would remember you.”
“There is no memory of any of us that will survive what is birthed here. You misplaced your faith,” Odin said.
“I misplaced nothing.”
Odin slid off Sleipnir, no weapon in hand, because Loki still had possession of Gungnir. But the Allfather was head of a pantheon of gods, and Ares might be a god of war, but he wouldn’t outlast Odin in a fight. Then Ares looked up at the sky through the branches of Yggdrasil, and Patrick realized why Ares wasn’t worried.
Breaking free of the storm clouds came thousands of demons falling to earth, the veil no longer a barrier to keep them out. Wade roared a warning, and Patrick desperately wanted to shout at him to fly away, to not face an army of hell on his own.
None of them could.
Odin looked over his shoulder at Patrick, the steel gray of his left eye shining with power. “Make your stand. I will do the same.”
Ashanti blurred to a stop beside Patrick, wrapping her clawed fingers around his arm in a bruising tight grip. “You cannot stop now.”
Patrick nodded jerkily, and Ashanti let him go. Ares snarled wordlessly, but the attack the god leveled his way was turned aside by Odin. Spencer and Nadine stayed right by Patrick as they all followed Ashanti into the fray. Sage and Jono stuck closer, snapping at anything that tried to get in their way.
Skeletal fingers and rotten hands grasped at Patrick’s legs as he ran, the dead slowing his passage. Jono lunged close, biting off a zombie’s head. They kept running, and it reminded him of Paris, only worse, because if they lost here, there would be nothing left to fight for. The torn veil would keep peeling open, breaking over the world as Ethan remade it into a hell.
Hellfire exploded around them as they drew closer to the god and demon holding court over the dead. Nadine barely got another shield up in time, and the heat of the hellfire scorched Patrick’s skin for a few seconds. He skidded to a halt, breathing harshly. He tracked the hellfire as it slid down the curve of the shield, thick like napalm and sizzling against her magic. Nadine grunted, shaking her head and wiping at the fresh blood flowing from her nose.
The hellfire slid to the ground, burning there like a sea of flame. Patrick stared across it at where Hades stood. He hadn’t seen the Greek god of the Underworld since being put in the grave. He doubted whatever stalemate they’d endured in Salem, brokered by Persephone, would reach here, but a stalemate was no way to win a war.
“Drop your shield, Mulroney,” Patrick said.
“Are you fucking crazy?” she hissed.
“Just do it.”
Nadine drew her shield in closer rather than drop it, letting it surround herself and Spencer. The heat from the hellfire washed over Patrick like a muggy wave, turning the rain to steam around them. The sulfuric smell made Patrick want to gag, but he didn’t.
“If you want your daughter back, then get the fuck out of my way,” Patrick said.
Jono’s growl of agreement was loud enough to vibrate through Patrick’s chest from two feet away, his lover still pissed at what had happened in Salem.
“You know that’s not how this works,” Hades said.
“It could be. Your wife would want it to be.”
Hades’ expression twisted, hands curled, calling hellfire to him. “You know nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
He’d seen the way they’d looked at each other in Salem. For all her fury and demands, Patrick knew Persephone could forgive her husband even if she’d never forgive anyone else the transgressions Hades had let pass.
“I owe Persephone a debt. Let me pay it,” Patrick said.
“Your debt is meaningless when hell is already here.”
Patrick’s gaze snapped unbidden to the demon-infested sky above and the countless dead massed around them on the ground.
Hades raised his hands higher and gestured sharply, fingers spread wide. The hellfire surrounding them spun like a fire tornado, rising into the air. It was enough of a distraction for Patrick to miss Cerberus’ arrival, but Jono didn’t.
The three-headed beast charged through the circle of hellfire, but Jono met him halfway. Jono, with Fenrir’s help, forced Cerberus away from Patrick with vicious bites and swipes of his claws. The momentum of their fight sent them careening past the circle of hellfire, the dead clawing at their fur as demons screamed overhead.
