Patrick flipped him off but kept his attention on his aunt. “Andras summoned all the dead in Salem to fight for him. You need to get behind a threshold.”
He didn’t want them to die—couldn’tlet them die—but this wasn’t where the fight was going to end. New York City and Jono were calling, and Patrick couldn’t stay.
Madelyn nodded jerkily. “Whatever is best.”
“Let’s get them back with the SOA agents for cover. Then we’ll go,” Gerard said.
Madelyn pulled out a small plastic bottle from her jacket pocket and offered it to Patrick. “Here. Drink this. It’s a restorative potion. It can’t heal you, but it’ll keep you moving for now.”
“I need a fucking vacation, not a potion,” Patrick said, but he took the bottle anyway, unscrewed the cap, and downed a drink that tasted sickeningly sweet.
The effects were immediate. The fog in his brain washed away, leaving him more clearheaded than he’d been in hours. It helped him focus, and while it didn’t cure the exhaustion, it enabled him to ignore it more easily.
He tossed the empty bottle over his shoulder and nodded at Gerard. “Ready when you are, sir.”
“Need to get you actual gear when we make it back to New York,” Gerard said, already moving toward where the fighting was still going on.
“I had a rifle.”
“You don’t have it now.”
“Blame Hermes.”
Patrick grabbed Brittany by the elbow and turned her around. Madelyn followed suit, sticking close to her daughter. Keith came up to flank them, and the other two Hellraisers took up the rearguard. Gerard had point, and Patrick kept his shield up as they ran across gravesites, taking shots at zombies as they went.
Several werecreatures came up from behind, helping to guard them. Patrick didn’t know if any of them were Georgelle, but he needed to remember to thank her at some point.
The Night Marchers helped clear a way forward, with Ku focusing on the Dominion Sect magic users. The number of witches, warlocks, and sorcerers supporting Zachary had been halved. Zachary was still standing, though Patrick didn’t have eyes on Andras. It left him feeling chilled in a way he couldn’t blame on the storm.
The second he got within arm’s reach of Hermes, he was taking back that rifle.
Werecreatures tore through zombies on either side of them, their ferocity enough to keep their area clear of danger. The Dominion Sect magic users were being whittled down in numbers, but several had come back as zombies. The Night Marchers were dealing with those particular walking dead.
Gerard led them behind the front line the SOA magic users had set up, handing Madelyn and Brittany back over to federal protection. They weren’t dressed for a fight, and Patrick hated the thought of leaving them there, but he couldn’t put their lives over everyone else’s, even if they were related.
“Undo the generational wards around the nexus, then let the SOA know when they’re down. The agents here will look after you. Keep your shields up, and do what they say,” Patrick said, raising his voice to be heard over the thunder crashing overhead.
“What about you?” Brittany asked, eyes wide in her pale face.
“Pattycakes here has a soul debt to pay,” Hermes said, slipping between two Hellraisers to come stand beside Patrick.
He was empty-handed.
“Where’s my rifle?” Patrick demanded.
“It wasn’t yours, and besides, I ran out of bullets.”
Lightning flashed above, reflecting in Hermes’ eyes. The hissing crackle in the air didn’t come from the storm but the mageglobes careening their way.
“Someone get shields up!” Gerard yelled.
An SOA sorceress managed to cobble together a defense just in time, and the strike spells crashed against a shield that wavered in a threatening way. The color of the dissipating magic was all Zachary’s signature, and Patrick knew they couldn’t leave here until the asshole was taken care of.
Patrick grabbed Gerard by the arm, getting his attention. “Is Andras on the field?”
Gerard shook his head. “The demon left once the zombies were raised.”
“He didn’t take Zachary with him?”
