“Child,” the Cailleach Bheur said with a smile that showed off her bloodstained teeth.
Jono wanted—needed—a voice for this conversation. He gave a full-body shake to get rid of some of the rainwater that had settled on the outer layer of his fur, ignoring Patrick’s swearing as he did so. The lacerations Jono had acquired during his fights with the soultakers had healed, but the dried blood was still matted in his fur. The aches and pains had faded, courtesy of the werevirus and the side effect of accelerated healing that came with it.
Knowing what they’d be going into, and that he’d want to argue in favor of Patrick, Jono shifted back to human. The immediate flash of fiery agony lasted only a second or two before the nerves in his body blocked the pain. His body twisted and broke apart, fur sinking back into skin, muscles migrating to new joints. His vision faded from a werewolf sharpness to human colors.
Jono suppressed his senses until the shift was completed, breathing hard through his nose as his brain settled back into being in his human body. He flexed his hands against the ice before straightening up from his crouched position.
Keith leaned around Patrick to give Jono a once-over before nudging Patrick in the side. “I see why you’re with the Brit.”
Patrick rolled his eyes, a faint flush hitting his cheeks for a few seconds. “Can we focus on the mission and not Jono’s dick?”
“Not sure he’ll have much of one if he stays outside in this weather for too much longer.”
Patrick shot Keith a murderous look that the other man shrugged off with ease. Keith flashed a hand signal at Arthur, who nodded and quickly divested himself of his jacket. It was tossed to Jono, who took it with a silent nod of thanks.
Jono tied the jacket around his waist, more to save everyone else’s sense of modesty than for warmth. Jono didn’t care about walking around in the nude. He’d ruined too many sets of clothes over the years due to shifting that he’d rather be naked in preparation for a fight than haul around extra clothes while on the run. Jono could handle the cold well enough, even in human form.
Once he was mostly decent, Jono scanned the area for the last member of his pack. Sage hadn’t shifted back to human, her massive weretiger form standing guard next to Wade. The teen was holding on to the fur on her back with one hand covered in iridescent red scales.
“Don’t shift,” Jono said, knowing Wade would hear the order and know the warning was meant for him.
Wade’s gaze flicked his way, a hint of gold in brown eyes. Sage shifted on her paws and sidled closer to Wade, reminding him she was there and he wasn’t alone.
Jono’s attention was dragged back to the silent staring contest going on between Cairbre and the Cailleach Bheur. Jono had his money on the goddess, and if that bet had been placed with a bookie, he’d have won a pretty prize.
“This land is no longer yours,” Cairbre finally said.
The Cailleach Bheur pointed her staff at Cairbre. “I was old before you even existed on the lips of storytellers, child. The walls here remember the echo of my footsteps, and always will. Lead the way, or step aside.”
Cairbre hesitated, but not even the backup he had in the form of Unseelie fae could make him stand his ground. Cairbre inclined his head to his elder and half-turned to gesture at the doorway he’d walked out of.
“Follow me,” he said.
Nadine’s shields didn’t fall. Gerard looked over at where she stood with a halo of tiny mageglobes circling her head. “Stand down, Mulroney.”
“Are you going to ask for hospitality so they don’t stab us in the back?” Nadine asked.
“I made a bargain, and I’m here to keep it. That’s hospitality enough.”
“If you say so.”
Nadine drew down her shields, enabling everyone to follow Cairbre into the palace. Jono knocked over a spriggan ice statue balanced on one foot when he jostled it while walking past it. The statue shattered when it hit the cold, ice-covered ground. Jono kicked a piece out of his way.
“You know what I want for Christmas?” Jono said quietly as they headed for the palace door.
“What?” Patrick asked.
“For us to be home and this bollocks over with.”
Patrick reached for his hand, tangling their fingers together. “Me, too.”
Their group entered the palace beneath dozens of eyes and weapons pointed their way. The Hellraisers kept their rifles in their hands but weren’t aiming at anyone or anything in particular. Jono had no doubt that they’d be able to wreak havoc at the first order Gerard gave.
“I lost my gun in the fight,” Nadine said quietly from behind them. “Requisitioning a new one is going to be annoying.”
“Don’t feel too bad. I left Gerard’s really expensive rifle back on Skellig Michael,” Patrick said.
“We’re probably going to lose the rest of them to the guards at the Unseelie Court. It’s what happened in the Seelie Court, only they gave the weapons back. I doubt Medb will be so generous here,” Keith said.
