“If that’s your version of an apology, it sucks.”
“It is the truth.”
“What are they after?” Jono asked. He figured it was the changeling, but Jono wasn’t going to let on that they knew. It was information he refused to give up for free. Not to the fae.
Tiarnán hit a button on the console between his and Deirdre’s seats. A light lit up, and the small speaker there crackled to life. “Take the long way.”
“Yes, my lord,” a male voice responded.
Tiarnán met Jono’s gaze without blinking. “The Spring Queen has called her warriors home. It is a summoning that is not undertaken lightly.”
Patrick went still, but he was shielded so tightly Jono couldn’t get anything off him save his heartbeat—and that was as calm as the eye of a hurricane.
“If you need Sage to take on a few extra cases at work to cover your schedule, she’s who you should be chatting with, not me,” Jono said.
“I did speak with her. She counseled that your pack would be more amenable to my request than the one we initially reached out to.”
Jono’s eyes narrowed. “You went to Estelle and Youssef.”
“They espouse themselves as the alphas of the New York City god pack, with all that rank applies. Yet they seemed reluctant to meet with us.”
“They’re being investigated for their role in selling werecreatures to Tremaine and the Omacatl Cartel. I’m not surprised they don’t want to get involved with anyone else right now, not when they have the federal government interested in every single one of their dealings as alphas,” Patrick said.
“Which leaves me calling upon your pack.”
“I already have one case concerning the fae on my desk. I don’t need another.”
Tiarnán hummed thoughtfully. “The changeling.”
“Not your business unless the kid is from your Seelie Court.”
“I do not deal with changelings. They come from all the lands of Tír na nÓg, not this island I have called home for centuries.”
“What did you ask Estelle and Youssef to help you with?” Jono wanted to know.
“The Summer Lady was taken from the heart of the Seelie Court by Dominion Sect mercenaries nearly two weeks ago. She is missing, and we asked for the god pack’s help in finding her.”
Jono clenched his teeth, his stomach churning at the mention of the Dominion Sect. “They said no?”
Tiarnán’s smile was as cold as the winter wind outside the limo. “They declined to give us aid, a decision we will always remember.”
“I get it, mate. You have a hard time understanding what no means.” Jono held up a hand before Tiarnán could respond. “Not saying no, but I’m not saying yes. All I’ve heard is talk about a missing person. That’s not enough for us to agree to anything.”
Jono half wished they had Sage with them to help navigate this word dance with the fae, but he thought maybe Tiarnán had orchestrated this conversation to spare her an uncomfortable situation—or to give them an advantage. Sage was pack, but she was also an attorney at Gentry & Thyme. The last thing Jono wanted was to put her job at risk.
“You were both in the middle of what happened here in June, and from what I hear, you took down Tremaine’s Night Court.”
Jono shared a look with Patrick. “Don’t know what you’re on about, mate.”
“I understand deniability for the courts, but your reputation is beginning to precede you in the preternatural world.” Tiarnán’s eyes darted from Jono to Patrick, then back again. “You are god pack, Jonothon. But you do not hold this city.”
“Yet,” Patrick replied in a low voice. “I’m still not hearing an offer.”
Outside the window, buildings were replaced by a low rock wall covered in scrubby bushes as the driver turned onto the Seventy-Ninth Street Transverse. Memories of nearly being sacrificed in Central Park were still hard to forget these many months after. Jono shoved them aside, dispassionately taking in what he could see of the winter scenery around them.
Trees and bushes were bare across the landscape, the snow sticking to the ground and branches, creating a blanket of white that looked inviting. Appearances could be deceiving though, and Jono was done with playing games.
“We won’t help for free,” Jono said.
