“Emma said we weren’t allowed to get blood on the floor,” Patrick said, forcing his tone light.
Gerard tipped his head in Patrick’s direction in silent acknowledgement of that reminder, but he only had eyes for the god pack. “Let her go. I won’t ask again.”
Maybe it was their standing through the government, or the fact that Gerard wasn’t completely human and it showed now that he let it, but Estelle listened for once. It was a concession Patrick added to their small column of wins since June.
Estelle unwrapped her fingers from around Emma’s arm one at a time, revealing bruised skin beneath. The bruises immediately started to fade. Emma held her head up high as she walked back to Leon’s side. He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her and glaring at a spot over Estelle’s shoulder.
“I don’t like the games you play,” Jono said in a low voice as he walked past Gerard to approach the other pack. “Never have, never will. Your missing pack members were arseholes, but they still deserved a better alpha than you.”
“If you harmed them, then we will consider that a declaration of war,” Estelle said.
Jono came to a stop an arm’s length away from her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Against the fae? Best of luck with that. The Sluagh took them. You aren’t getting them back. You should be used to that by now. You’ve always been one to throw away your people like they were rubbish.”
Youssef took a threatening step forward but didn’t get any farther than that as Patrick conjured up a mageglobe between him and Jono, filling it with raw magic. Youssef pulled up short, eyeing Patrick’s magic with a disgusted look on his face. Patrick knew his magic, corrupted as it was, wasn’t easy to be around. Right now, he considered that side effect a plus.
“The government considers your actions today, as well as the actions of your dire the other night and your pack members last night, interference. The video Sage took has already been handed over to my supervisor. Think real hard about how you want to play this, Youssef,” Patrick said.
Youssef’s amber-eyed gaze snapped from Jono to Patrick. His lips curled, revealing sharp fangs. “Jonothon can’t hide behind you and your badge forever.”
“That goes double for the Tempest pack,” Estelle said.
Jono smiled, showing all teeth, and Patrick hoped he wasn’t going to do anything that would require bail money or staining Emma’s hardwood floors and rugs.
“You’ve fucked with Emma’s pack enough. Next time, grow a fucking pair and come at me on your own. Or are you too scared that you’ll lose?” Jono asked.
Estelle lifted her chin. “You wouldn’t survive a challenge against me.”
“I put your dire on his knees. I have to wonder how many people who were there that day wished it had been you.”
Estelle lunged at Jono quicker than Patrick could raise a shield between them, furious preternatural speed beating the silent, half-formed command trigger running through his mind.
It couldn’t beat Gerard’s spear.
The weapon cut through the air so quickly that Estelle was forced to do some rather ungainly midair twisting that had her landing on her back. Youssef was by her side in an instant, the both of them staring at the weapon lodged in the floor mere inches from Estelle’s head. Nicholas had his claws out, but the icy fury on Gerard’s face made him freeze where he stood.
“Well, at least it’s not blood,” Wade muttered from the couch.
Patrick choked back a laugh, but Keith didn’t even bother to try. His cackle filled the living area of the apartment as Gerard stalked over to retrieve his spear. Jono stayed where he was, staring down the god pack through the shield Patrick had erected between the two sides.
Gerard yanked the spear out of the floor, the wooden hole tearing even more as he did so. He spun it with the casual ease of a man who knew how to use a weapon of war.
“Jono gave you an order. In my line of work, when your superiors issue one, you get a fucking move on,” Gerard said into the tense silence.
“Jonothon will never be my superior,” Estelle growled as Youssef helped her to her feet.
“You sure about that?” Patrick asked.
The look Estelle shot him would’ve flayed him to the bone if she had a shred of magic in her soul and knew how to use it.
“We’ll escort you out,” Sage said, stepping up to the line they’d formed between the other god pack and Emma’s Tempest pack. “On the government’s orders, of course.”
Nicholas moved to guide Youssef and Estelle to the door but was violently shrugged off. That little hint of discord within their pack made Patrick smirk. He didn’t stop smirking for the entire time it took to kick the three out of the mansion.
Outside, snow was falling, the wind a sharp, icy thing that cut beneath Patrick’s leather jacket. Despite the heat charms, Patrick shivered from the cold and hoped he wasn’t getting sick.
“Whatever game you think you’re playing, you’re going to lose,” Youssef said as they walked toward the pair of SUVs idling on the street.
“Doubtful,” Jono replied. “Next time you have something to say to me, say it to my face.”
