7
Ephraim was weary as death. Though reinforcements had slowly begun to filter in from around the world in the last week, it seemed that there was no turning back the tides. New Orleans was a ghost town, eerily vacant of meaningful life. And around every corner, hanging from every French Quarter balcony, was some hellish creature from beyond the Veil, lying in wait for the Guardians.
Aeric had relieved him on patrol over an hour ago, but the sheer effort of getting from one side of town to the other with all his body parts intact had nearly driven Ephraim to despair. Papa Aguiel was stirring up trouble all over town, threatening the precious few stubborn Kith and foolish humans that’d stayed behind.
It was all over the human news now, explained as “the outbreak of an unknown virus”, som
