“Is that a challenge?”
“It’s not murder if it’s a challenge. Best remember that.”
It never was inside the ring. Patrick knew that from previous cases and from the stories Jono had told him. You could do anything you wanted to a werecreature who issued a challenge inside the ring and the law would never consider it murder. The preternatural world had its own laws never written to code, but they were still valid, still enforced, still allowed.
The modern world was still old in some ways—in the way blood was spilled, the way people were buried, the way they prayed to a god for absolution.
Sometimes the old ways were the only path forward.
Patrick watched the other god pack leave, not blinking until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Everything running through his mind stayed there until they were back upstairs behind closed doors and another silence ward that he cast with such force it made his fingertips go numb. As soon as the static faded away, Emma rounded on Jono.
“I amdoneshowing throat to those fuckers,” she ground out.
Jono looked at her with a calmness in his wolf-bright eyes that didn’t match the tension in his jaw. “Em—”
“No.” Emma made a slashing gesture with her hand, her fingernails sharp like claws. “They aren’t worth my pack’s association, and I refuse to be loyal to them any longer.”
Emma grabbed Leon’s hand and together they put themselves before Jono, going down on their knees and angling their heads to show their throats.
“You’re better than those bastards, Jono. You always have been,” Leon said into the quiet that had settled over everyone.
“We aren’t a big enough god pack. I can’t keep you safe,” Jono said.
Emma shook her head. “You’ve done more to keep some of us safe than they have for the entire time they’ve led the god pack here. Kennedy and the others wouldn’t be alive today without you.”
Patrick thought about the woman they’d saved from Tremaine back in August, not sure if being severely traumatized was better than being dead. But she and the few other survivors were safe, living in a home together in upstate New York that Marek had bought for them after discussing options with Jono. The SOA and DEA sent agents around once a week to check up on them. It wasn’t quite witness protection, but they were away from the city they couldn’t stay in any longer.
Healing wasn’t easy, wasn’t always linear, and sometimes leaving everything behind was the only way to start over.
Patrick nudged Jono in the side. “If we find the Summer Lady, then we’ll have the acknowledgment of the fae that we’re the only legitimate god pack in New York City. Estelle and Youssef lost whatever agreements they had with the Night Courts, but I’m sure we can work something out with Lucien.”
“You aren’t making any more bargains with that arsehole,” Jono retorted.
“What bargains?” Gerard asked sharply.
Patrick winced and waved off the question, holding out no hope that Gerard would forget about it. Patrick watched Jono lean down and drag his wrists over Emma and Leon’s throats, his fingers curving around the back of their necks. Jono closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, his entire body stiffening. Emma and Leon jerked in his grip, but Jono didn’t let them go far. He held them steady as he did whatever it was god pack alphas did when taking on the loyalty of a new pack.
Patrick would never know that feeling, would never know what put that look of wonder in Jono’s eyes when they opened again. But he was fiercely glad that Jono was getting the opportunity to experience it now, to know what it was like to finally lead how he should.
“I take on responsibility of your Tempest pack,” Jono said, his voice deep with a promise Patrick knew he would never knowingly break.
Emma and Leon breathed in tandem, sharing in the give-and-take between them. Jono lifted his hands away from their throats and turned each one over so his palms were raised to the ceiling, offering the pair help up. Emma and Leon gripped his hands, and he hauled them to their feet with easy strength.
“Thank you,” Emma said, a lightness to her tone and body Patrick hadn’t ever witnessed before.
“They’ll know you’ve left their protection once someone catches your scent.”
“That won’t matter. If I need to get a protective order from the courts to keep them away from our territory, I will,” Marek promised.
“I’ll get it filed for you,” Sage said.
“It’s great that you guys smell different now, but you’re out of Pop-Tarts,” Wade called out from the kitchen.
“Did you not just eat a dozen cinnamon rolls?” Patrick demanded.
“No, because you ate one. It’s not a dozen if one ended up in your stomach.”
Patrick made a face. “You can snack later, Wade. We need to get going.”
