“So, what? You’re leaving me behind?”
“We aren’t leaving you behind. Get that thought out of your head,” Patrick said. “None of us are traveling alone from here on out, not after what Estelle and Youssef did tonight. We don’t want you to get hurt.”
Wade rolled his eyes. “Like they can hurt me. I’m not a werecreature.”
“What are you?” Keith asked.
“He’s a fire dragon,” Sage replied. “Fledgling, to be precise.”
Keith whistled again. “What the fuck have you been up to, Patrick?”
Before Patrick could figure out how to respond to that, Wade stalked toward them, paused long enough to swipe the box of cookies off the bar, and headed for the far back booth that had escaped damage during the fight.
“Those are mine,” Patrick said.
“Fuck you” was Wade’s angry response, the words muffled around a cookie already stuffed in his mouth.
Jono dragged a hand down his face. “Bloody hell.”
“I think I need a debrief on the last year of your life, Patrick,” Gerard said.
“You know, this was not how I thought our reunion would go,” Patrick replied.
Leon held up a bottle of scotch, one of the few that had survived the fight. “Would alcohol make it better?”
As tempting as the offer was, all Patrick had to do was look at the bruising across Jono’s abdomen and shake his head. “I’ve already had two beers tonight. I don’t want to be drunk if I have to fight.”
“I’ll take a drink,” Gerard said, turning toward the bar. “The gods only know I didn’t get any in the field to soothe my nerves when Patrick pulled his usual stupid stunts.”
“Had a tendency to go off half-cocked on his own, did he?” Jono asked.
“Oh, he’s done that to you, too? Have a drink with me. We can commiserate on his self-sacrificing tendencies.”
“You two should never have been allowed to meet,” Patrick said.
Gerard ignored Patrick and took the glass Leon handed him. “If you have a Wild Hunt problem, then you need all the help you can get.”
“I have my pack, but I don’t know if Emma’s should get involved.” Patrick raised a hand to forestall her argument as she opened her mouth. “You know I trust you, Emma. But the harassment happening to you, your pack, and those who come to the bar can’t be ignored. The god pack went after Jono tonight with the intent to kill. I don’t want to be responsible for the death of anyone who belongs to you.”
“You might not have a say in that,” Marek said slowly as he wrapped his arms around Sage’s waist and rested his chin on top of her head.
Patrick stared into Marek’s hazel eyes, wondering which fate was looking back at him. He couldn’t ask, because that wasn’t his secret to give up to people who weren’t in the know, even if Patrick trusted them.
Marek made the choice for him.
“Your old teammates should know I’m a seer,” Marek said.
Keith perked up at that. “Seriously? Like, some full-on oracle shit and not that fake palm-reading stuff? Man, I was gonna buy some lottery tickets—”
“No,” Gerard said, cutting him off. “No lottery for you.”
Patrick cleared his throat, glancing over at Gerard and Keith. “Everyone here knows about Ethan.”
All the humor left Keith’s eyes, the seriousness that replaced it comforting in a way. Gerard straightened up, his narrow-eyed gaze sweeping over everyone in the bar as if he were taking their measure all over again.
“If they know about Ethan, what else do they know?” Gerard asked.
“That the gods like to fuck with my life, and that’s about it.”
