“Yeah.” Spencer sipped at his coffee, squinting at Jono. “Which is why I’m going to tell you what I’m going to tell him once he gets back from being interrogated. Whatever that staff did to him when he touched it, it made your soulbond permanent.”
Jono ran his tongue against the back of his teeth, thinking of that moment beneath the Eiffel Tower and the way his soul had been twisted so tight he’d thought his ribs would break in protest. “Thought it already was?”
“Soulbonds can be severed. When I first arrived and saw your souls, the bond wasn’t tangled as deep as it is now. And when I say deep, I meandeep.” Spencer paused, grimacing. “I know the gods set it. I think, at this point, they’d be the only ones who could undo it.”
“We aren’t going to ask them for any favors.”
“Good plan.”
“I’ll tell Patrick. No need for your goodbye to end with news like that.”
“Bad?”
Jono shook his head. “We both don’t mind the soulbond. We don’t want it removed.”
“So, good news, then?”
“Good enough.”
Jono’s ears picked up on quiet footsteps, and then Sage padded into the kitchen on bare feet, mobile pressed to her ear and looking right at him.
“Hold please,” she said in a crisp voice before muting the call. “Rami says Mireille and Gaspard want to speak with you.”
Jono gulped down another burning swallow of tea. “On your mobile or mine?”
“I have them standing by.”
“I’m ready.”
Sage got back on the line, and a couple of seconds later, she handed her mobile to him. Jono pressed it to his ear and leaned against the kitchen counter, staring out the open window at the sunlight outside .
“Yeah?” he said, too tired to be polite.
“Bonjour, Jonothon. One of the packs under our protection said you gave them aid during the zombie incursion. That you brought them to the ministry so they could continue to help the city with support,” Mireille said after only a brief pause, sounding as if she was on speaker.
“We did.”
“She said you did not stay there but moved on.”
“Someone had to get rid of your zombie problem.”
“You fought for our territory,” Gaspard said.
“Your territory was caught in the middle. If this had happened in any other city, we would’ve been there fighting the bastards.” He didn’t give any more information than that because it wasn’t their business. Jono took another sip of his tea. “I meant what I said at our first meeting. We weren’t here for your territory, only pass-through rights, and we leave tomorrow.”
The silence echoed on their side for a few seconds before Gaspard spoke up. “We know there are two god packs vying for New York City. We will acknowledge yours and inform our European contemporaries that your god pack has sole claim to the territory. Expect to receive some calls in the future.”
Jono’s eyebrows crept upward while Sage crossed her arms over her chest and got a very pleased look on her face. “That’s unexpected.”
“You aren’t the London god pack. Your…pack members may be atypical, but we can’t say they aren’t useful.”
“When next you are in Paris, call ahead. We will welcome you at our table if it remains ours,” Mireille said.
“We’ll ring you,” Jono promised.
“Have a safe flight home.”
The call ended and Jono handed the mobile back to Sage. “Seems we’re getting international backing now.”
