Page 58 of The Cruelest Undead

She needed backup.

Percy! I’m trapped at the Saint Louis cemetery and need our guardians. We have zombies!

His reply was exactly what she expected. How could it be anything else? She would have asked the same thing.

ZOMBIES?

Yeah, color me surprised. Marie Laveau’s bones are gone, Percy. Get here. Something is trying to attack the city, and we all know why! We can’t let this get out. We have to make them forget. Send out the family to get it done!

He knew she was right.

We’re heading there right now. Just keep fighting. Half of us will wipe memories, and half will be ready for battle!

Thank.

Freaking.

God.

In case this kills me, you have to let the master know that I picked up a smell. It was Mathew. His scent is here! He has to be part of this.

Percy was worried. They were damn hard to kill, and if Clariel thought that was possible, that made him…twitchy. They were marked by Rinnon, but was this magickal?

Don’t you die, and how could he be there? He’s dead, Clari!

That was a question that she honestly couldn’t answer for him.

Is he? Because we have dead rising, and that can’t be a good thing.

And it wasn’t.

Yeah, she could say that again.

As soon as we handle this, you’d better call for Flynn. He’ll want to know about this. You don’t have dead rising and Mathew’s scent in New Orleans, and not have it be Fate fucking with Jolie.

She was aware.

He was going to be pissed.

Oh, as was Jolie.

I’m injured and so is one of the humans. I’ll heal but it’s going to be slow. As for one of the human cops, he’s infected with something. We need help. Fast. There’s magick going on here.

Percy knew how dire it was.

We’re almost there. Hang in there, Clariel.

She kicked a zombie who had successfully made the climb up the mausoleum. It landed on a metal fence impaled through its rotting flesh. The screams of pain it made were horrific, and she felt bad.

They’d been innocent dead, and now, they were being used for something nefarious.

All around them, chaos was breaking out.

Logan was sitting on top of the mausoleum and scared stupid. He was holding his oozing wound on his arm, his gun empty of bullets.

“I must be asleep. There’s no way. Why is your wife here, and why do we have dead bodies climbing a mausoleum?”

Oh, well, the jig was up. It seemed that someone else’s memory was going to have to be wiped too.

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