On the people in the club, in the streets beyond the iron-barred walls, on any immortal who fell beneath his teeth and claws—it was all Jono could think of in the early days of his infection. Fenrir was made for the end of the world, but that moment was not now, and Jono had learned to stand strong against an animal-god patron who would use him until nothing of himself remained if he let it happen.
No.
Vicious in his denial, Jono held tight to a new anchor that kept him tethered to his humanity—the soulbond. It pulled at him, a wound in his soul that would never close, would never let him go. It helped him keep his thoughts, keep his sanity, in order to fight as clearheaded as he could. But Jono needed more space than the containment circle gave him, and Patrick seemed to sense that through the soulbond. It was the only explanation for the dagger that landed between him and the jaguar, channeling the power of gods.
The matte-black blade sank centimeters into the marble, directly into the mouth of the center face that glowed. White fire erupted from the blade, carried by words in languages that Jono couldn’t read which drifted over the blade.
“I saidIwouldn’t fight,” Jono heard Patrick say from the mezzanine. “I never said they wouldn’t interfere. There’s a fucking difference, Lucien.”
Theybeing the gods of every heaven that had crafted the dagger which broke apart the containment circle in a burst of magic that nearly blinded Jono, even with Fenrir’s protection. The force of the blast upended people, vampires, and furniture. It shattered the chandelier directly above the fight area, raining crystal down on them. Jono shook it off as magic rebounded against the iron embedded in the walls and ceiling, crackling through everything electronic.
The Crimson Diamond was plunged into darkness, but Jono had no trouble seeing. Fenrir’s sight lit up the area for him in grays and shadows that turned night into a washed-out twilight. The jaguar had been flung back, out of the circle. With magic no longer a barrier, the teenaged werecreature Jono had sought to protect barreled toward the exit at a speed no human could match.
Jono howled a warning, but he couldn’t speak in this form, not unless he channeled Fenrir, and that was a card he had no intention of showing.
Not yet.
Jono pursued the teenager, but he wasn’t the only one. The jaguar was quick on its feet, despite only having three working ones at the moment. But what it lacked in its body, it more than made up for in its pack.
Jaguars in the wild were solitary. Here, driven by a god whose name Jono didn’t know, half a dozen more swarmed out of fog that appeared from nowhere.
“They’re crossing over from the veil!” Patrick yelled.
Jono heard him through the screams and cries of the crowd, everyone’s night of debauchery ruined for the better in his personal opinion. Jono’s night?
Just getting started.
He barreled through the crowd, using his size and speed to clear a pathway to the entrance the werecreature had already vanished through, the jaguars between them. His paws crunched the door lying broken on the ground as he launched himself through the open doorway.
Passing over the threshold brought with it the sounds of the city at night—honking horns, distant music, the chatter of people inside buildings and the screams of those on the street who didn’t expect a pack of jaguars and a god pack alpha werewolf on the hunt.
Jono knew Patrick wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, not at the speed Jono was running, four feet pounding against the pavement as he raced down Broadway, following the scent of a panicked teenager. But he knew Patrick would follow.
The jaguars swarmed ahead of him, wreaking havoc in the streets as they dodged into traffic, the pavement too narrow to contain them. They bounded on top of moving cars, and Jono had no choice but to follow them. He launched himself on top of the nearest taxi, denting the boot from his significant weight, trying to get eyes on his prey.
The car next to his juddered to a halt as Sage in her weretiger form slammed on top of the bonnet with a roar that shattered a windscreen or two. Jono shared a single look with her before they both raced forward again, a single goal in mind—rip the bloody jaguars to shreds before they killed an independent werecreature, or anyone else.
Jono’s fury fueled him in the chase down Broadway, cars, people, and buildings flashing by. Some of the screams sounded like people in pain, but Jono couldn’t stop and see if they were all right. All his focus was on the flash of blood-stained T-shirt he saw flit around the corner up ahead, followed by the jaguars.
Traffic was fucked, and Jono veered off the street for the pavement again now that it seemed the way was clear enough. Sage stayed right with him, her weretiger form smaller than his wolf but no less menacing. Muscles bunched and extended beneath her black and orange striped fur as they took the corner into the Canal Street Subway Station together. Their claws shattered the pavement when they dug in to move their bodies into the turn.
Jono saw people lying on the stairs, blood hot in his nose, as he and Sage took flying leaps to the lower landing in order to clear the wounded. They careened down to the lower level, closing the distance between them and the jaguar pack.
Screams echoed in the underground ticketing area as the jaguars leaped over the fare gates. Jono and Sage followed in their wake, but the fare gates didn’t survive their way through. Both Jono and Sage were too large to easily fit through the entry made for humans—so they made room. Jono slammed through the nearest one, taking the brunt of the hit on his shoulders, head tucked low.
Metal screeched as the fare gates broke from the force of their passage, throwing off electric sparks from the damage as Jono and Sage crashed through to the other side. Jono fought for traction when his front paws hit the floor, claws digging in deep as he followed the scent of the teenager deeper into the subway.
Saturday night wasn’t rush hour, but there were still plenty of people in their way. Sage roared a warning that reverberated through the subway corridors. Jono hoped it was enough to make people get out of their fucking way as they raced to the lower level.
They closed the distance between them and their prey, Fenrir’s howl urging Jono on. Wards flared up along the subway walls, old magic making his nose prickle, but nothing impeded their way.
Jono put on a burst of speed and leaped forward, landing on the back of a jaguar right before it went down the final set of stairs to the platform. Jono dug his claws in deep and sank his teeth into the back of the animal’s neck as they tumbled uncontrollably down the stairs. Cement steps jarred his body on the way down, but Jono’s teeth finally found bone, and he wrenched his head to the side in a killing motion.
Vertebrae snapped, blood flooding his mouth as Jono broke the jaguar’s neck. The body went slack in his jaws and Jono let it go, already lashing out at the jaguar going for his jugular. Jono jerked backward, sinking into his wolf instincts and letting Fenrir guide him. He lashed out with his left paw, claws slicing over the jaguar’s shoulder before following with his teeth.
Jono clamped his jaws around as much of the jaguar’s skull as he could before rolling, dragging the beast with him. He kicked up with his hind paws, got claws in that soft belly, and raked them down the jaguar’s body with all the force he could muster.
Blood and organs from the jaguar poured over his body as the beast shuddered in its death throes. Jono let go of the corpse, tasting blood, feeling it stick in his fur as he rolled to all four feet, the jaguar’s organs sliding off him to the platform. His ears filled with the screeching sound of an approaching train. Jono swung his head around, seeing that Sage had taken down two of the other jaguars and was cornering another. The last one made a run for the teenager standing too close to the platform edge with no hope of an easy escape.
