“Wasn’t my decision.”
“Casale knows you aren’t one of ours. He exceeded his authority.”
“I’m sorry, do you have a badge?” Patrick asked, sounding annoyed. “Because Casale didn’t exceed anything, and this problem doesn’t concern you.”
“The PCB knows to call us as representatives for those who are pack to ensure their anonymity. Your boss isn’t doing his job,” Youssef retorted.
Patrick pulled his badge out of his back pocket and flipped it open. “I’m not with the PCB.”
Estelle and Youssef went still in the way only preternatural creatures could. Jono watched their bright amber eyes lock on to the identification and he could practicallyseethe moment they realized they weren’t dealing with the NYPD.
Patrick snapped the thin leather wallet closed and tucked it back into his pocket. “You can make demands all you want, but your supposed authority doesn’t exist with me or the SOA. This case isn’t your business, so back the fuck off.”
Youssef shook off his surprise, eyes narrowing. “We weren’t informed the SOA had taken over the case.”
“What part of not your business did you not understand?”
“It’s our business when it involves werecreatures under our protection.”
Patrick jerked his thumb in Jono’s direction. “From what I understand, Jono doesn’t have a pack and he isn’t part of yours. Which means he’s not your concern, the same way Marek isn’t because of his status. They’re the only two I’m dealing with as witnesses right now, so your argument is still a bunch of bullshit.”
Youssef took a step forward but was restrained from going further than that by Estelle’s hand on his arm. She studied Patrick for a few seconds before shifting her attention to Jono.
“You do not speak for us or for the packs in our territory,” she said coolly.
“I know,” Jono said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.
“Nicholas will stay with the Tempest pack to act as liaison with the authorities during this case. You are to refrain from communicating with any pack involved in the attack that happened last night, Jono.”
“It’s like you’re deaf, when I know you’ve got preternatural hearing. You aren’t calling the shots, Estelle. Which means the god pack isn’t going to embed anyone with any pack, least of all the one Marek belongs to,” Patrick said.
“You can’t—”
Patrick cut her off, eyes locked on her face. “Federal law trumps your pack laws in a situation like this. If I hear of you trying to interfere again, you can expect a knock on your door from the SOA.”
Jono could have warned Patrick that Estelle and Youssef didn’t like being told what to do. Their rank meant everything to them, and having it taken away by an SOA special agent wasn’t going to douse their temper any.
When Youssef pulled free of Estelle and took a threatening step forward, Patrick flexed his fingers and conjured up a mageglobe that stopped Youssef in his tracks. The fiery blue magic spun in his hand, a threatening gesture the god pack couldn’t ignore.
“This conversation is over,” Patrick said in a low, hard voice.
Jono couldn’t smell Patrick’s emotional state, couldn’t get a read on the other man, but the scent of his magic was still just as bitter as before. Jono had spent half his life navigating the world with enhanced senses, but he didn’t need them in this moment. He didn’t doubt for a second that, if Youssef took one more step, Patrick would take him down hard.
“We’d like to be contacted in the event you need to speak with anyone who is pack,” Estelle said after a tense moment of silence.
“You aren’t being read into the case.” Patrick pointed at the exit. “Door’s that way. Get the fuck out.”
It was a dismissal they had no choice but to obey. Jono watched as Youssef spun on his heel and stalked out of the bar, Estelle and Nicholas right behind him. The door slammed shut with a loudbangthat made Jono wince.
Patrick made a fist, snuffing out his magic before he turned to glare at Marek. “You’re supposed to be home behind the barrier ward I built you.”
“I have a minder,” Marek retorted, gesturing at the sorcerer. “Tyler Casale here is my own personal guard, courtesy of the Crescent Coven.”
“Hi,” Tyler said, lifting one hand in a wave.
“Casale,” Patrick echoed. “Any relation to the chief of the PCB?”
“He’s my dad.”
