“Then we’ll rely on other people. That’s what alliances are for.”
Sage made a cutting gesture with her hand. “We don’t have one with the Night Courts.”
Jono thought about the promise Lucien owed Patrick and wondered what it would cost to make the master vampire acknowledge it outside the angry conversations it existed in.
“Then we’ll make one.”
Lucien made bargains with no one. That was an historical fact, but Jono rather thought he could make the master vampire agree to an alliance if he offered up a war.
Jono realized, with a bleakness that left him swallowing back bile, they had no choice but to go all in if they wanted to survive. War waited for no one. It arrived unexpectedly or crept into the background of a person’s life without them realizing it—but it came with a relentlessness that killed.
Emma raised her hand. “I’m in favor of poking the hornet’s nest.”
“Wait. What are we doing?” Marek asked as he came back into the living room. He’d taken care of his forced erection and looked more comfortable in his own skin.
“Delivering the body to Estelle and Youssef.”
Marek blinked at them. “Right now?”
Leon shrugged. “Why wait?”
Sage crossed her arms over her chest and met Jono’s eyes. She didn’t bother to hide her anger, but Jono knew from past experiences she’d accept his order. She might not like it, and there was a fair chance she’d greet him with anI told you solater on down the line, but she’d do what he asked.
“I don’t suppose we can blame the silver and aconite poisoning and claim you’re out of your mind, can we?” Sage asked.
Jono shook his head. “No.”
“Then let’s get you dressed. Emma? Leon? The crate won’t fit in the Mustang’s trunk or our Maserati. Load it into your Escalade. We’ll be down in about ten minutes.”
“What about me?” Marek asked.
Sage kissed him soundly on the mouth before following Jono into the bedroom. “Finish your coffee and go get the car.”
The clothes he’d worn last night to Brooklyn were a mess and had been stashed in a plastic bag that now resided in Marek’s Maserati. They’d get rid of it in some place that wasn’t here. Jono shoved his track pants off while Sage dug out some clean clothes from the dresser for him.
“You better have a damn good apology ready for when Patrick finds out,” Sage said quietly as she handed him a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved Henley.
“I’ll think of something,” Jono said.
Sage watched him carefully get dressed with an unreadable look on her face. “You still smell like you’re hurt.”
“If it’s the blood, we can blame it on the body when we deliver it.”
In response, Sage unclasped the turquoise pendant necklace she wore on a platinum chain, the fae magic embedded in the artifact a barrier that hid her scent and what she truly was. Her scent hit Jono’s nose in a soothing way, and he ducked his head a little so she could hook the necklace around his own throat.
“You can’t show weakness to them.”
“Thought you didn’t even want me to show them my face at all?”
Sage arched an eyebrow. “I agree we can’t let their actions slide if they truly hired the hunters. I just think you’re rushing in without thinking.”
“So, like Pat.”
“The two of you are the reason I drink some days.”
Jono gingerly sat on the bed while Sage went to grab his boots and a clean pair of socks. Bending over made everything ache in a way he wished would go away.
Sage knelt in front of him and calmly put on his shoes for him, tying the laces so tight he thought she’d break them. When she stood and went to step back, Jono snagged her wrist, pressing his fingers into the pulse point there.
