Phaedra shook her head. She looked from Harry to Sam, and back.
"So keres?" She asked, thinking the Roma equivalent, what are you doing?, at Harry at the same time. She had a tone that said she wasn't pleased with his idea. The more upset she got, typically, the more her native tongue or accent crept out. "You want to go out there? With the Xari?"
She didn't need to explain her people's word for the zombies. It was clear enough.
She shook her head. Right now, Phaedra didn't care that they were people. Fuck them. She had no allegiance to the people of York. She had one to Harry, first. Then maybe to Dean.
"Don't you watch horror movies? Something always goes wrong with plans like that."
As for the wards, she tilted her head, silently letting Harry know that she was profoundly disturbed that there had been a 'last time' for zombie attack on his house. Who hadn't he pissed off, anyway?
She chanced a look out the kitchen window, then, moving the shade just barely.
There was a little girl, couldn't have been more than 10. And she was shambling toward the house. Phaedra's mouth fell open, just slightly.
"Harry," she said. Her voice had urgency in it, and it also had authority. This was the voice that her co-workers and marks hated. "Get the blood. Fast."
She let the shade go. "And remind me we need to talk to the people who run the corn maze about why they can never, ever use children as actors again."