“You sure about bringing him along?” Jono asked quietly, well aware Wade could still hear him.
“I can’t leave him here alone, and Hermes took back the coin he’d left in Marek’s apartment. There’s no safety topside here for him, and Wade knows the way through those tunnels.” Patrick ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s not my first choice. Believe me, if I could spare him this trauma, I would, but he agreed to come.”
“After you pressured him.”
The talk at Ginnungagap the other night had continued back at the flat. Jono thought at the time, and still did, that it was a bit too much manipulation happening on Patrick’s part toward Wade, but he’d held his tongue.
Patrick winced. “I’m not proud about that, okay?”
“Patrick asked, and I said yes,” Wade said as he came out of the kitchen with a Pop-Tart in one hand and crumbs on his lips. “That’s more autonomy than Tloque Nahuaque ever gave me.”
“You know, you don’t have to call him by that title,” Patrick said. “Asshole works just fine. Also bastard and fucker, depending on your mood.”
Wade shrugged and took another bite of his Pop-Tart. Jono figured it would take a few therapy sessions before the teen would be willing to call Tezcatlipoca by any other name.
Jono’s mobile buzzed on the coffee table and he leaned over to retrieve it. The text message from Sage informed him she was outside.
“Ride is here.” Jono handed his mobile to Patrick since he wasn’t taking it to the club. “I need to go.”
“You know the plan.”
“You know you can use me for your magic,” Jono reminded Patrick. “I want you to.”
Patrick pressed his mouth into a hard line before shaking his head. “I can’t.”
“Sometimes we don’t get a choice. I’m telling you it’s okay.” Jono reached out and cupped Patrick’s face, stroking his thumb gently over the freckles on his cheek. “Don’t hold back tonight.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You never could, love. See you on the other side.”
They didn’t say goodbye, a superstition Patrick clung to from his time in the Mage Corps that Jono was fine with adhering to. He just pressed one more kiss to Patrick’s willing mouth before leaving the flat for where Sage waited in her BMW on the street. He was surprised to see Marek keeping her company.
“Ready?” Sage said as Marek opened the car door, a blast of cold air pouring out to mix with the summer heat. Marek moved the seat forward and climbed into the back, ceding the front to Jono.
“Yeah,” Jono replied.
Like Patrick, Sage was dressed all in black. Like Jono, she wore old clothes she wouldn’t mind losing when she shifted. Her thick hair was braided back to keep it out of her face. As soon as he closed the door and buckled up, Sage stepped on the gas pedal.
Jono craned his head around to look at Marek. “Thought you’d be at home?”
The color of Marek’s hazel eyes seemed more washed-out than usual. “I’ll drop Sage off at Ginnungagap after we take you to the Crimson Diamond.”
Ginnungagap was the staging ground for the attack tonight. Jono knew Patrick still had some last-minute coordination with the SOA and the PCB to handle before he met everyone over there.
“Got something to tell me?”
Marek blinked, and his eyes washed out to a pure white. The ozone scent of a god filled the car, setting Jono’s teeth on edge. The feminine voice that came out of Marek’s mouth made Sage tighten her hands on the steering wheel.
“We cannot see the end,” one of the Norns said. “But neither can the Morai.”
“What good are a bunch of Fates if you can’t see the future?” Jono asked.
The Fates driving Marek leaned forward, the intensity of their gaze making Jono freeze. “There is more at stake than you know. Death takes many shapes, but it always follows war. The Dominion Sect must not claim either.”
Marek blinked, his eyes fading back to hazel. Jono watched as he hunched over, lacing his hands together over the back of his head.
“Fuck. Verðandi is worse than Skuld when she wants to make a point,” Marek mumbled.
