Patrick didn’t see the Ka-Bar in Lucien’s hand until he had it shoved between Estelle’s teeth, cutting into the corners of her mouth. His other hand had a gun raised and pointed at Youssef’s head before their pack could even think about moving.
“You have nothing but what I give you. I’m letting you leave with your life because the police irritate me and I don’t need them looking my way. Consider it a warning.”
He yanked the knife out of Estelle’s mouth, slicing open her cheek with the motion. Blood gushed down her face and throat, staining her silk blouse. Estelle covered the wound with her hands, stumbling backward. Youssef caught her before she fell, fear and hatred warring in his gaze as he stared at Lucien.
Lucien gestured at the door with his gun. “Get out.”
The other god pack members swarmed their alphas and hustled the pair out of Ginnungagap in seconds. The door slammed shut behind them on its own accord.
“Was that the only reason you brought us here?” Patrick asked.
Lucien licked Estelle’s blood off his Ka-Bar, careful of the serrated edge. “Does it matter?”
“If I wanted to see a show, I would’ve gone to Broadway.”
“Your life choices remain terrible.”
“Yeah, about that. I kept the promise I made to you. Tremaine is dead and the Manhattan Night Court is yours. What more do you want?”
“Yes, your debt is paid. For once.”
Patrick flipped him off. “Fuck you.”
“Get out before I shoot you.”
Patrick opened his mouth, but Jono quickly covered it with his hand. “That’s enough, mate. Let’s be off.”
Patrick scowled against Jono’s palm, but Wade was already hurrying toward the exit. Sage followed after him at a sedate pace, pausing only when she was in Lucien’s line of sight.
“When you’re ready to talk territory boundaries, call me.” Sage plucked a business card from the little pocket on the back of her phone case and held it out. “I’ll set up a meeting with my alphas.”
Patrick stiffened as Lucien approached Sage, but the master vampire didn’t try to slice a second smile into her face. Lucien smirked at her and took the business card, crumpling it up before dropping it on the ground.
“If I need to speak with Patrick, I’ll call him,” Lucien said.
“You’ll callme. I’m his dire, which puts me on par with Carmen. Don’t disrespect me or my pack, Lucien.”
Jono had a proud look on his face as he watched Sage turn her back on Lucien and walk out of the warehouse. “Knew I chose right when I gave her that rank.”
Patrick batted Jono’s hand away from his mouth and headed after the other two, knowing Jono had his six. They left the warehouse for the alleyway, finding it empty of the god pack but not empty of gods.
“Your car hasn’t been fixed,” Hermes said from where he sat on the hood.
“I’ll fix your face with my fist if you come closer,” Patrick said, scowling at him. “Get off my car.”
Hermes grinned and stayed where he was. Quetzalcoatl snorted, pushing away from the driver’s-side door he’d been leaning against. The immortals were in their DEA uniforms but weren’t sweating from the heat in their jackets with the agency lettering on the back.
“Hello, Patrick,” Quetzalcoatl said.
“I have a dragon to feed. If you need to talk about work, it can wait until tomorrow.”
“I’ve heard from Áltsé Hashké. I thought you’d like to know what he had to say.”
“That’s what phones are for.”
“True, but if we left personal greetings by the wayside, Hermes would be out of a job.”
“Never,” Hermes retorted as he jumped off the hood of the car.
