The smell of those flowers blossomed on Patrick’s tongue, sudden and floral, making him gag with the memories it brought. He froze, and he’d hate himself later for that, but Áltsé Hashké didn’t hesitate.
“You have done enough harm to the children, cousin. I will not let you have this one,” Áltsé Hashké said.
Patrick watched as the god reached around Tezcatlipoca and pried his hands off Wade with a strength none of them had. Jono lunged forward to grab Wade by his tactical vest and haul him out of reach. That left them both open to an attack by the jaguar on their left. Patrick put himself between them and the extension of Tezcatlipoca’s power, dagger at the ready. Bright heavenly fire reflected in the jaguar’s eyes.
“You have chosen the losing side, cousin,” Tezcatlipoca said, sounding furiously betrayed.
Tezcatlipoca wrenched free of Áltsé Hashké’s grip, eyes glowing from an inner light. He twisted around to face off with the trickster god, only Áltsé Hashké was no longer there. Tezcatlipoca let out a war cry that shook the building until Patrick realized the source of that reverberation came from the front of the club, not the rear.
“DEA!” someone shouted from behind a row of riot shields etched with protective wards as their backup swarmed the building. “Lower your weapons!”
Quetzalcoatl’s raid had begun.
As Patrick faced off with the jaguar, trapped between two gods allied with the hells, he made the decision to run because surviving was all that mattered.
Patrick grabbed Wade by the arm and held on tight. “Let’s go.”
It was like working with his old team again, the way he didn’t have to explain himself. Jono knew what he wanted, and maybe that was because of the soulbond tying them together, but Patrick didn’t care. Jono put himself between them and the threat with a growl that was only cut off when he got his jaws around the jaguar’s throat.
Wade was too warm in Patrick’s grip, even through gloves. The teen’s eyes were solidly gold now, the black pupils reptilian slits. Iridescent red scales covered his face and neck, his hair disappearing in patches. Patrick’s M4A1 carbine banged heavily against his hip as he dragged Wade forward, struggling to piece together his patchwork shields. The anchor points in his bones weren’t damaged, but that hit from Tezcatlipoca had siphoned off more of his magic than he liked to think about.
He needed to get Wade out of the Crimson Diamond.
Tremaine, like with Tezcatlipoca, didn’t want to let Wade go.
The master vampire slammed into them from the side, his sharp nails scraping over Patrick’s weakened shields. Patrick grunted as he twisted in between Wade and Tremaine, expanding his shields. Standing between the two brought the remembered smell of marigolds to his nose. Patrick swallowed against that unwanted memory and brought up his dagger, hoping for room to strike.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” Patrick said.
The cold itch at the edges of his mind was all Tremaine. This time, Patrick wasn’t half out of his mind while high on shine. He blocked Tremaine out of his thoughts by altering his shields, the pressure easing.
“Thatis not yours,” Tremaine said.
Patrick took a step to the side, bringing Wade with him. “He has a fucking name.”
Sage barreled her way through a pair of vampires on his left, aiming for Tremaine. The master vampire leaped out of her way—straight into Carmen’s painful right hook.
“Oh, child,” Carmen purred, the venom in her voice as she shot Tremaine in the back while he was on his knees impossible to miss. “Your daddy wants a word.”
Tremaine wasn’t crippled by the bullet. Patrick could see a bulletproof vest beneath his torn dress shirt as the vampire looked over his shoulder.
“I owe him nothing,” Tremaine snarled.
“Of all the things to get with the times on, you had to go for body armor.”
Tremaine moved out of the way of Carmen’s next bullet, a shadowy blur who would rather run than face what passed as his family.
“You’re a fucking coward, Tremaine,” Patrick yelled.
The fact that he was running headfirst toward Quetzalcoatl and a defensive line of federal agents and NYPD officers just made Patrick’s day worse. He needed Tremaineoutof police custody in order to keep his promise to Lucien.
A shudder ran through Wade’s entire body, muscles fighting against Patrick’s grip. He looked at the teen in his custody and made a choice he knew he wouldn’t regret. Making sure Lucien got Tremaine’s head on a proverbial platter was relegated to second place. Wade came first.
“Sage!” Patrick shouted, gaining her attention.
That large, monstrous head whipped around, the curved fangs in her mouth glistening with blood. Her teeth resembled a saber-tooth tiger’s rather than a modern one, and Patrick was thankful she was on their side as Sage quickly closed the distance between them.
Wade felt heavier in his hands than a teenager had any right to be. All the hair was gone from his head now, and the fingernails on each hand had turned black. The frightened expression on his scaly face made Patrick wish he could give the kid a normal life.
