“Everyone here did.”
Gerard nodded, his mouth quirking at the corner as he let go of Jono’s hand. “How many heart attacks has he given you?”
Jono rolled his eyes. “Too many. Could do without even one.”
“I am right here,” Patrick retorted.
“No one cares, Razzle Dazzle,” Keith said.
Jono turned around and gave Patrick a questioning look. “Razzle Dazzle?”
Keith wiggled his fingers. “Because magic.”
“Shut the fuck up, Chatterbox,” Patrick said.
Keith grinned at him, unrepentant in the face of Patrick’s prickliness. It was almost like old times in the field, the bickering and jokes that had gotten them through each day, because gallows humor was the only way to pass the time on the front lines.
Jono nodded over at where Sage was lifting a table with one hand to check for damage underneath. “Sage Beacot, my dire. There’s one more of our pack, but he’s home tonight.”
“I texted Wade and told him to stay put,” Sage said over her shoulder.
“Hopefully he listens,” Patrick said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to deal with Estelle and Youssef.”
“I take it they’re the other god pack alphas?” Gerard asked.
“Yeah. Tonight isn’t the first time they’ve hassled us, but it’s the most overt.”
“Will they even know Theodore and the others are gone?”
Patrick shared a look with Jono. “Probably not for at least a few days if they don’t report back. It’ll be interesting to see if Estelle and Youssef file a missing person report.”
Jono dragged a hand through his hair. “We’ll have to inform them when I ring Estelle and accuse them of condoning the attack.”
“They’ll deny it and turn Theodore and the others being taken by the Wild Hunt on you,” Sage said.
“They sound like such nice people.” Keith looked at Patrick. “Why aren’t they dead yet?”
“Because it looks bad when a federal agent gets involved in pack politics,” Patrick retorted. “Also, the paperwork is a bitch.”
Keith gestured pointedly at Jono. “You’re already involved with Mr. Tall Dark and Abs-tastic over here. Give me a better excuse.”
“There’s four of us, almost fifty or so of them, and they still have packs loyal to them in the five boroughs. I could challenge them, but the space to do so is in their territory, and I don’t trust their concept of following pack law,” Jono said.
Patrick reached between Gerard and Jono to pick up the weapon in question that had wounded Jono. The knife was heavy in his hand, the balance off, but he doubted Theodore had cared about that. “They came with the intent to kill you. Keith is right. That’s not something we can ignore.”
Gerard held out his hand. “Let me see.”
Patrick passed the knife over. “It’s not an artifact.”
Gerard took it, flipping the blade around in his hand with an expertise that came from decades of practice. “The knife itself is poorly designed, but it’s coated in silver.”
“Still got the job done of getting buried in Jono’s gut,” Marek said as he came over, dusting off his hands. “Lucky it wasn’t your heart.”
“Wouldn’t have even happened if the Sluagh hadn’t sent one of theirs in for a drink,” Jono said. He frowned, shaking his head. “The one in the bar said I had something of theirs, that I smelled like it. The rider of the Wild Hunt said they were looking for a girl.”
“You don’t smell any different,” Leon told him.
“We had a changeling in the flat.”
