A metaphysical wall crashed down between them and the outside world when they crossed the threshold. City noise became muffled, and the skittering feel of magic prickled his skin before fading away. Jono breathed in deep, parsing out familiar and unfamiliar scents. Emma and the others were here. He could pick out the particular scent of a couple of human servants and Carmen’s distinct blend of desire and blood from the unfinished mezzanine.
Jono wasn’t surprised she was on the premises. Ginnungagap was Lucien’s territory, and if the rest of the vampires were sleeping, someone had to keep watch over everyone here.
Quetzalcoatl seemed unbothered walking into a place that technically belonged to a different pantheon. He had good company in Hermes, who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor with someone’s head in his lap. Jono couldn’t see Kennedy’s face, wrapped as she was in a cocoon of blankets, but he could smell her distress and the coppery scent of blood. He didn’t realize he’d come to a stop until Patrick nudged him forward.
“Come on,” Patrick said softly. “Let’s see how she is.”
Sage met them halfway, her eyes locked on Patrick. Jono watched as the tight line of her shoulders eased as her gaze raked up and down Patrick, taking him in.
“Are you okay?” Sage asked.
“Bruised, but I’ll live. Victoria makes good potions even if they taste like shit,” Patrick said. “Where’s Wade?”
“Back at my place,” Marek said from where he sat on an empty pallet, typing away on his MacBook. “I figured the coin would be enough protection to hide him from a god. Half the pack is home anyway keeping him fed.”
Sage stepped close and Patrick got a surprised look on his face when she hugged him. He gamely accepted it though, arms coming around her to squeeze back. Jono left Patrick to get scent-marked in favor of kneeling beside Kennedy. Emma and Leon stood behind the immortal, hovering in that way alphas sometimes did over a wounded pack member.
Kennedy’s bald head was mostly covered by a blanket. Angry scar tissue covered her scalp, indicating her wounds had been so bad the change back to human hadn’t been enough to heal her. Jono carefully settled his hand on her shoulder. Her entire body jerked weakly against his touch.
“She’s in shock still. It took everything I had to get her to change back. We should get her to a hospital,” Emma said.
Jono said nothing, gently pulling the blankets down enough to see Kennedy’s heavily bruised face, the bones that were slow to reform and heal, and the gauntness to her body that spoke of deprivation no one deserved to endure.
“She was worse at the club,” Sage said quietly.
“Not sure this counts as better,” Jono replied, trying to keep the anger out of his voice and his scent, not wanting to disturb Kennedy. “She didn’t deserve this.”
Emma crossed her arms over her chest, fingers digging painfully into her upper arms. “No, she didn’t. So tell me what we’re going to do about it.”
Jono kept his mouth shut, kept his hand on Kennedy’s trembling form, and for once couldn’t completely ignore the howl ripping through his mind. Patrick was the one to pull him back from a feral edge, his hand like a brand on his shoulder. Jono jerked his head up, blinking at the other man.
“If a rival pack took one of your pack mates or injured someone under your protection, what would you do?” Patrick asked him.
Jono had to remind himself to keep his touch light and gentle on Kennedy’s body. “To avenge you? Anything.”
Patrick blinked, the hard line of his mouth softening. “Murder is so much better than flowers some days.”
“I’ve got bail money,” Marek said absently.
“Well, you’ve stated we’re a pack now, and your eyes and viral strain put us as god pack status. Think that’s enough to get Tremaine to accept a challenge?”
“Even if he doesn’t, I’ll bring the fight to his territory. I’m still not keen on doing it through Lucien,” Jono said.
Patrick sighed. “You know what I promised Lucien. I know you don’t like it, but if giving him the Manhattan Night Court prevents this from happening to other werecreatures, then it’s a promise I won’t feel too bad about keeping.”
“Not sure trading one master vampire for another even worse one is the best plan here,” Leon said.
Patrick shrugged. “Better the devil you know.”
“You’re the only one out of all of us who knows the fucker.”
“Careful how you speak of my love. We take insults to our master very personally,” Carmen called from the mezzanine. “You have guests, Patrick.”
“Who?” Jono asked sharply.
“Wolves.”
The bite in her voice was all anticipatory violence Jono had no problem matching.
