“For each piece they buy. Bullets included.”
“That’s—” Patrick started to protest.
Jono raised a hand, cutting him off. He never looked away from Lucien’s face. “Done. What’s the routing number?”
Lucien rattled it off before saying, “Next time, it’ll cost you more.”
“Figured giving you the Manhattan Night Court would be interest enough.”
“You’ll pay whatever I say you’ll pay if you want what I have to offer.”
Patrick looked like he wanted to throttle Lucien as he pressed his mobile to his ear. “Yeah, I got the routing number for the wire transfer. He likes offshore accounts. Hopefully your bank won’t flag anything.”
Jono dialed up his hearing so he could listen to the conversation.
“It’ll be fine. Tell me the amount when you’re ready,” Marek said on the other side of the line.
Jono grabbed Patrick’s free hand and pulled him out of reach of Lucien, pushing Patrick ahead of him as he deliberately turned his back on Lucien. At the bar, Gerard and Keith had settled on a pair of long guns that made Patrick whistle appreciatively.
“Nice,” he said. “FN SCAR-H?”
Gerard nodded and angled one of the weapons toward them. Scratched on the metal were symbols Jono didn’t understand. “Warded.”
Patrick reached out and dragged a finger over the barrel of the weapon. The symbols glowed with a faint light at his touch.
“Military grade. Magic feels like it was set by a witch. Weapon won’t jam.”
“The serial numbers are all filed off, so I’m going with stolen,” Keith said.
Gerard shook his head. “We don’t have to pay for these.”
“You aren’t walking out of Ginnungagap with them if you don’t,” Carmen said.
Gerard ignored her. “It’s not worth owing him, Patrick.”
“I have a lot of practice with owing people shit. This is a transaction, plain and simple.” Patrick nodded at what was on display. “Pick your weapon, sir.”
“We get something out of it as well, aside from what you lot are outfitting yourselves with,” Jono said.
Keith snorted. “An empty bank account?”
Jono looked over his shoulder at where Lucien stood, watching them. “Validation.”
Lucien never made bargains with anyone, never gave loyalty that wasn’t coerced. Lucien’s grudging willingness to supply their god pack with weapons was more than Estelle and Youssef would ever get out of the master vampire. That it came because of a promise to a long-dead goddess didn’t change the outcome.
They’d pay, but so would Lucien, in a way.
In the end, Gerard and Keith chose their weapons, and the final total made Patrick wince. He still passed it along to Marek.
“Because I always like funding terrorism,” Marek muttered over the line. “All right, money is sent.”
Lucien stared at his mobile, and a few seconds later, he nodded. “Money’s been transferred.”
Carmen unzipped a black duffel bag and started filling it with their purchases, the sultry smirk on her face full of mockery. “Pleasure doing business, boys. Until next time.”
As much as Jono wanted to deny they’d be back, he knew he’d be lying if he did.
* * *
