Fenrir flowed through Jono’s soul and mind, sinking into every last crevice of who he was. Jono let him, not minding the god’s presence in the face of hell.
“Let us shake the world,” Fenrir said, the god’s voice coming out harsh around teeth and tongue not meant to speak in the form they were in.
When Fenrir charged forward with a challenging howl that echoed eerily in the air, two goddesses joined him, and the Tempest pack followed in their wake. Nadine kept growing the radius of her shields in meters, the edge of it nipping at their heels as they dove fangs and claws first into the horde.
Fenrir rode Jono’s consciousness but didn’t fight him for control. The god was ever present as Jono ripped his way through the zombies, shattering bones between his teeth as he clawed at the fae moving between the dead. Those were more irritating than the zombies, with gangly limbs and claws that could find their way deep into his fur if he didn’t shake them off quick enough.
The werewolves around him were a snarling mass of support that spanned the width of the street amidst parked and abandoned cars. They needed to push the fae back so Nadine could set her shield’s boundaries over the block. But like in Paris, the dead kept coming, and even with the Cailleach Bheur and Ashanti lending their power to the fight, the sheer number of the dead and the Unseelie Court fae coming at them would overwhelm their position soon.
Jono kicked out with his hind paws, slamming them into an abandoned car and sending it crashing through a group of zombies. It created space for himself and Emma to maneuver in as they fought the next wave of fae. They were about to charge when the glow from Nadine’s magic disappeared in the area they stood in, and Jono tensed.
The crackle of her magic was replaced by the thunder of hooves.
Jono wrenched his head around in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar streak of gold and black darting forward through the legs of werewolves, bits of the veil trailing from between her small teeth as Fatima yowled a vicious challenge.
A group of Seelie fae warriors on horses galloped their way from the intersection behind them, Órlaith leading the charge, a sword clutched in one hand, her armor gleaming. Perched behind her, one hand outstretched around her, sat PIA Agent Spencer Bailey dressed for a fight, a dark green mageglobe burning against his palm.
The dead around them fell in waves, Fatima drawing their souls into her mouth and guiding them to where they belonged at the behest of Spencer’s uncanny magic. Órlaith’s steed galloped past Nadine, and Spencer flung himself off it at her position. He stumbled on the landing, but Nadine grabbed his shoulder, steadying him.
“Sorry I’m late!” Spencer shouted. “I needed a ride in.”
Jono faced forward again with a snarl as Órlaith’s steed clambered onto a frozen car with inhuman sure-footedness. It might look like a horse, but it had fae blood running through its veins. The rain beat down on them both, flattening Jono’s fur and weighing down her thick braid.
Órlaith looked down at him with a fierceness to her gaze. “What do you need?”
Fenrir took control of Jono’s voice, words tearing through his teeth. “A barrier they can’t get through.”
Órlaith nodded tightly before she pointed her sword at the brambles still pushing over and through the wall surrounding Central Park. “Pull your people back.”
Jono threw his head up and howled, putting power into the wordless command. Emma’s pack retreated over the bones of the dead and iced-over cars, weaving past the fae soldiers who had come up to form ranks around Órlaith and Jono.
The Cailleach Bheur and Ashanti slipped past the horses to stand by Jono. Ashanti’s lips were covered in black blood, her clawed fingers wet with it. She seemed unconcerned about the horde of zombies and Unseelie Court fae still coming their way.
Órlaith sheathed her sword, freeing both hands. She extended her arms outward and clenched her hands into fists. For a second, nothing happened. Then the earth began to shake in such a way that Jono worried about the integrity of the buildings around them and the subway below.
The color of the brambles went from black to a dark green as Órlaith’s magic called forth the life of summer. The fae screeched a challenge, but Órlaith was the Summer Lady of the Seelie Court and Brigid’s heir. Even in the in-between plane of existence that New York City had fallen into, there was still life, and Órlaith called it forth.
The brambles exploded, growing twice as fast and doubling in size in seconds. The tangled maze of thorns and branches cut through the enemy on Fifth Avenue, blood spraying through the air. As the bramble barricade grew, wintery ice filled every space between the thorns, until an icy wall the width of Fifth Avenue, two blocks in length, and three stories high settled into place.
Nadine’s barrier ward passed over them to anchor itself to the base Órlaith and the Cailleach Bheur had created. The dome of her shield encompassed their block and the one beside it, supporting what the pair of immortals had created.
“This will not stop them forever,” Ashanti warned.
“It only needs to stop them until we plan our next move,” Órlaith said coolly.
Jono worked his way backward, bone crunching beneath his paws, until he could leap over a car and make it to the sidewalk. Crouched low, he shifted back to human with a speed that almost made him dizzy, Fenrir helping him back to human shape. Without fur, he shivered in the biting cold that had settled over their street, feeling it in a way he normally never did.
“Who did you bring with you other than Spencer?” Jono asked over his shoulder.
Órlaith maneuvered her steed off the car. “A strike team of warriors. We came through before the hawthorn path fell. Brigid is fighting for control of it on the other side. When she gets here, she will aid you, cousin.”
Jono glanced back at the ice and bramble wall filling the street beneath Nadine’s shield. Hermes’ warning to stay in one place rang through his head, but it would be meaningless if they died under siege.
“How long can you both keep up the barriers?” Jono asked.
Nadine squinted up at the mix of magic and ice walling them off from Central Park. “Under normal circumstances, I can hold a shield up for days. We’re within the veil’s boundaries now. If it’s going to be like Cairo, I’ll want to conserve my strength.”
“I was on the other side in New Jersey with a group of PIA agents when Órlaith showed up with her riders. Scared the shit out of the soldiers with us,” Spencer said.
