The malevolent power brewing inside Grand Central Terminal didn’t bode well to the people stationed outside it. The soldiers manning a hastily built barricade consisting of abandoned cars kept their weapons trained on them as they approached. No one was shooting—yet—but Nadine hadn’t lowered her defensive shield.
“I’m PIA Special Agent Nadine Mulroney,” Nadine said loudly. “I’m with allies.”
“Looks like you’re with werecreatures and vampires,” someone shouted.
“Like I said. Allies.”
“If they don’t let us pass, we’ll go through them,” Lucien said as he sauntered up to stand by Ashanti.
Jono turned his wolf’s head to keep the master vampire in his sights. Lucien’s pale face was splattered with blood from the demons and hunters he’d killed on their push downtown. He cradled a rifle with the casual expertise of someone who rarely went anywhere without a weapon.
“We’re with the joint task force,” Spencer called out.
The murmur of voices spiked, and Jono dialed up his hearing to catch what he could beneath the roar of the reactionary storm. Fenrir’s presence settled on the surface of Jono’s mind, a thought away from taking control if things went south. Finally, someone with some sort of rank waved them forward with a commanding gesture.
“Mulroney, was it?” the woman in uniform asked. “General Reed said to provide your group support if we crossed paths.”
“Is General Reed within the vicinity?” Nadine asked.
“The brass are coordinating the defense of Grand Central Station on Park Avenue down the way.”
“What’s going on with Grand Central?”
The woman’s expression was grim beneath her hard helmet. “We don’t know.”
Jono growled his displeasure before moving forward, and everyone else followed. He could hear the noise from what had to be at least hundreds of fighters both on the viaduct and below on the street level, scattered in groups for blocks by the sound of it.
Jono knew the streets of Manhattan well, and fighting in this area would happen in tight quarters. With the Morrígan’s staff in play, anyone who died would just be resurrected to fight again like in Paris. The loss of life was going to be staggering if those in charge didn’t have a decent plan of attack.
Jono’s group merged into a single column consisting of werecreatures, vampires, gods, and Órlaith’s fae. They must have made an interesting spectacle judging by the stares and the spike of anxiousness that hit Jono’s nose.
The military had set up some sort of command center on the viaduct where it curved at the corner. Jono’s group came upon the section covered by a small domed shield that glittered gold in the fog. It was heavily guarded by soldiers and police in black riot gear. Jono didn’t miss the way a few people’s hands strayed closer to the triggers on their rifles and handguns as they approached.
“We’re here for General Reed,” Nadine called out.
A darker gold line cut perpendicular down the shield, parting it so the people on the inside could pass through it. Jono sat on his haunches and watched as General Reed and Casale came out, joined by several other people in uniform.
“Sir,” Nadine said, her greeting echoed by Spencer.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” Reed said, his gaze raking over their group. Jono knew when the dragon came up short by the frown that settled harshly on his face. “Where’s Collins? And Captain Breckenridge?”
At those questions, Jono started to shift, quickly tearing his body back to human shape. He ignored the way someone in police riot gear gagged, the rain washing blood and viscera off his skin as he stood. The cold rain made his skin prickle, but he wasn’t going to be human long enough for it to matter.
“Jonothon,” Reed said, crossing his arms. The smoke curling out of his nose couldn’t be explained away by a cigarette, not in this downpour. “Where’s your pack?”
“Patrick went to Salem to trade himself for Eloise on some spellwork there. He said something about cutting off Ethan’s power source,” Jono said.
“We got word through scrying crystals the Salem nexus was barricaded by SOA mages out of Boston Tuesday night,” Reed said.
Relief practically gutted him, but the news was only a silver lining because Patrick wasn’t with him. “When did you scry?”
“Whatever passed for morning. Time isn’t running normally here. It’s difficult to gauge.”
“Samhain is happening now,” Órlaith said, urging her steed forward. She towered over them all, practically glowing the way only immortals did. Quite a few people behind Reed and Casale eyed her with not a little worshipfulness in their eyes.
“The veil tears,” Ashanti agreed.
“We could use Collins, but Bailey will do for now,” Reed said.
