Jono stoodwith his arms crossed over his chest in the baggage claim at LaGuardia’s Terminal B, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. The smell of so many people coming from so many places, packed in a tight area, made his nose twitch. Jono could’ve stayed in the car, but he was too impatient right now. He checked his mobile one more time, but Patrick hadn’t texted since saying he’d landed and responding with a smiley face emoji when Jono had replied he was waiting in the baggage claim.
Jono had picked a spot that was out of the way of people arriving to claim their luggage but still had a good view. No one looked twice at him if he didn’t count the toddler a weary mother was trying to keep occupied. Jono ignored the kid in favor of keeping an eye on the shifting crowd, perking up when he caught sight of a familiar face.
In a sea of people, Patrick’s dark red hair stood out, and Jono felt his shoulders ease as he finally got eyes on the mage. Three weeks of separation had hurt in a way they hadn’t anticipated, the soulbond still too new for distance to be easy. The soulbond was settling, the awareness of it burying itself deep beneath his wolf, but Jono knew he’d always be aware of Patrick to some degree from here on out.
“Hey,” Patrick said with a tired smile. “You could’ve picked me up curbside and saved some money.”
“Shut it. You’re worth way more than a parking ticket.”
Jono closed the distance between them and gave Patrick a welcoming kiss that lingered longer than was probably polite for public. Jono didn’t care, just happy to have Patrick within sight again. Texts, phone calls, and FaceTime couldn’t compete with being able to reach out and touch. Having the only member of his pack away had left Jono snappish and irritable, to the point Emma had sent him home early from the bar a few nights over the last week.
When he pulled back, Jono made sure to drag his hand over the side of Patrick’s throat, discreetly scent-marking him. Most people wouldn’t recognize the touch for what it truly meant, but it settled something deep inside him. The raised eyebrow from Patrick told him he wasn’t being subtle, but Jono didn’t care.
Patrick hiked the worn-looking, probably military-issued camouflage rucksack higher on his shoulders and nodded at the baggage carousel. “I came with two other bags.”
“Hope that’s the last of it.”
“Should be. You handled everything else.”
Jono nodded, remembering the numerous walk-throughs of dozens of flats Patrick had him do with the help of a broker. Sage’s suggestion had been a witch who hadn’t blinked at Jono’s eyes and could easily interpret the magical requirements Patrick threw at her over the phone that Jono had no clue what he was on about.
In the end, after seven days of nonstop searching, Patrick had signed the lease with Jono for the top-floor flat of a five-story Chelsea townhouse. The townhouse was older than most of the other places on the list, but the two-bedroom flat was surprisingly spacious and had gone through a recent renovation. The small, private garden space at the rear of the building shared by all the tenants had been a perk Jono doubted they’d use much, but it was nice to have.
Jono had been living in Manhattan long enough to know it was a steal. Patrick’s job as an SOA special agent could’ve tipped their chances either way, but they’d lucked out and beat out other potential renters. Jono had handled the moving trucks full of Patrick’s things around being interviewed by police out of the PCB about what had happened during summer solstice.
Jono had claimed not to remember much of his time with Ethan only because he hadn’t wanted to relive that torture just yet. Aside from that, he didn’t know where the Dominion Sect had held him captive, nor did he know the identities of the acolytes he’d seen.
Right now, all Jono cared about was the man who’d come home to him. Patrick had managed to condense all his meetings into three weeks rather than four since he’d had Jono helping with some of the moving issues. That was one week sooner than they’d initially thought, and Jono couldn’t wait to get Patrick alone.
The luggage came out surprisingly quick, and Jono picked out Patrick’s by scent. He hauled both off the conveyer belt and started for the exit.
“I need to buy a car,” Patrick said as they stepped outside into muggy July heat. The afternoon sun was bright overhead in a cloudless sky. “I’m gonna hate driving in this city.”
“Marek is letting us borrow one of his for now. It’s what I drove to pick you up.”
“The Maserati?”
Jono snorted. “If only.”
The Lexus was perfectly serviceable for their needs, and Jono hadn’t argued the choice. He chucked the luggage in the boot when they reached the vehicle and got behind the wheel.
“Will Marek kill me if I smoke?” Patrick asked once they were on the road.
Jono frowned. “Probably, but you really shouldn’t smoke.”
Patrick slouched in the seat and tipped his head back. “It’s stress relief. DC was shitty.”
“How?”
Patrick shrugged. “The agency is getting raked over the congressional coals. It never looks good when double agents are unearthed in the government. Setsuna’s holding on to her job, but who knows if she’ll keep it.”
“And you?” Jono wanted to know.
“I’ve submitted my official report, but there’s a chance I’ll have to testify in a closed hearing before the House Committee on Oversight.”
Jono wasn’t well versed in how the United States government functioned, but that didn’t sound good to him. “Does that mean you’re in trouble?”
“Just means I’ve got too many eyes looking my way. We’ll need to be careful.”
