More spears cut through the air, one aiming for Hades’ heart. It never found its home, as the god stepped backward through the veil, gray fog swallowing him before the weapon ever reached him. Garmr snarled viciously before racing away from the fight, heading east around Patrick’s shield, and several hellhounds followed. Patrick stayed his hand due to the werecreatures that finally made it to their location, snarling and snapping at the few hellhounds who remained.
Several valkyries launched themselves off their motorcycles, the vehicles driving out of range on their own. They landed in the midst of the hellhounds, the small group a whirlwind of violence, their spears cutting open the beasts with well-placed thrusts. Brynhildr drove around Patrick’s shield to pull the spear she’d thrown at Hades out of the ground, spinning it around with a practiced hand. Some of the werecreatures who had arrived gave her a wide berth.
Brynhildr shoved her visor up. “We heard Garmr’s howl and came as quick as we could.”
Jono shook snow and blood off his fur and changed back to human in a writhing twist of skin, bone, and muscles. Joints ground together and muscles snapped to attach to new locations. The colors of the world became slightly muted, the sharpness fading. Standing naked in the snow, Jono ground his teeth together against the chill that wanted to make them chatter.
“They attacked us in the street,” Patrick said as he lowered his shields. He conjured a mageglobe and sent it toward Jono. The heat pouring off it was welcome. “I’m betting the cops will arrive soon, so all of you need to go. I’ll handle the authorities.”
“What about the dead hellhounds?” Wade asked.
Patrick grimaced. “Leave them. They’re evidence. I’ll burn them after we get crime scene pictures.”
“I don’t think you’ll have much time for evidence gathering in this storm,” Jono said.
Two of the werewolves started to shift as well, their bright amber eyes the only things staying the same from wolf to human. Like Jono, neither of them cared about being nude with an audience. Jono assumed they were Naomi White Hawk and Alejandro Perez, the god pack alphas Patrick had dealt with earlier in the week.
“Our home is nearby. We can house you there,” Naomi offered. She nodded at Jono, meeting his gaze with a steady one of her own. “Jonothon. My dire told us you were in town.”
“Naomi. Alejandro. Haven’t had a chance for a proper introduction. As you can see, we’ve been a bit busy,” he said by way of apology.
“Killing hellspawn, dealing with dead bodies, trying to stay out of reach of the cops,” Patrick said pointedly.
“We can escort all of you to your territory home,” Brynhildr said to Naomi. The god pack alpha’s expression never changed, but her scent took on a sharp, worried layer to it. Jono figured she and the rest of her pack had finally gotten a whiff of the immortals and didn’t know what to make of them.
“Does that mean I get to ride a motorcycle?” Wade asked excitedly, practically dancing on his feet.
“You’re still not allowed one when we get home,” Patrick retorted. “Now all of you, get moving.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone,” Jono argued.
Patrick glared at him. “I don’t want to have to explain your naked ass to the Chicago PD. I’ll be fine.”
Knowing he didn’t have time to argue, and that they’d argued enough lately, Jono gave in. He curled his fingers over Patrick’s chin to tilt his head up for a quick, hard kiss. “Be safe.”
Patrick smiled tightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid like last time I wasn’t around.”
Jono fought back a wince at the reminder he still wasn’t entirely forgiven. Sighing, Jono stepped back. He, Naomi, and Alejandro wasted no time in shifting back to their werewolf forms. Jono was warmer once on all fours, shaking blood from the shift off his fur. He paused long enough to headbutt Patrick before nipping gently at his hand. Patrick scratched between his ears with gloved fingers.
“I’ll find you after I deal with this mess,” Patrick promised.
Wade brandished Jono’s phone and waved it at them. “You can call him. I saved his phone after he shifted.”
Jono snorted, breath coming out in white puffs, grateful for Wade’s sticky fingers. He reluctantly walked away from Patrick to follow Naomi and Alejandro. Wade happily clambered onto a motorcycle, riding tandem with Eir and petting the motorcycle with a reverent hand. The motorcycle revved its engines without Eir’s hands on the handlebars, proving that what he’d seen in that split second during their charge hadn’t been a hallucination.
The valkyries put away their spears in the same manner as they had at the bar, the weapons dangling once more from their throats before getting tucked beneath their clothes. Brynhildr let Naomi and Alejandro take the lead. Jono stayed on their heels, the trek through snowy Chicago a quick one. The Chicago god pack’s home was three blocks away from Lincoln Park, in a mansion that rivaled Westberg’s.
Werecreatures stood guard outside the house in human form, and one took the stairs two at a time to open the front door. Jono followed Naomi and Alejandro up the stairs but paused on the porch to look back at where Wade was climbing off a motorcycle.
“We must keep searching,” Brynhildr said from the street, her helmeted head turned toward him, the visor flipped up. She didn’t raise her voice, and Jono could hear her even through the wind.
Jono nodded, then growled a warning at Wade when the teenager kept petting the motorcycle. Wade heaved out a sigh and jogged over to Jono, brushing snow off his shoulders as he climbed the stairs.
“I still want one,” Wade announced.
Jono nipped at his heels, gape-grinning at the squawk Wade let out before the teen hurried inside. Jono followed him, walking into a pleasantly warm home where other god pack members patiently waited in the living room with changes of clothes. Naomi and Alejandro were already human and getting dressed. Monica was there, and she arched an eyebrow as she held up a stack of clothes.
“I have something for you to wear,” Monica said.
