She reached up to slide their fingers together. “We both lead for a reason, Leon. If I act as dire here for Jono’s pack while they’re gone, you can still keep our pack safe because Tempest will still have an alpha.”
“I don’t want you to stand alone.”
“She won’t be alone,” Patrick promised before Jono could speak up. “If this is what’s being decided, then she’ll have the backing of our alliances. I’ll see if maybe Brynhildr and her valkyries might want to spend some time in New York while we’re gone. They can keep Emma company when she’s doing proxy work for us outside your guys’ pack.”
“Isn’t that asking the gods to interfere when they’re technically not supposed to?” Marek wanted to know.
Patrick snorted. “They make up and break their own rules all the damn time. The valkyries liked New York when they were here in February. Just let them drink for free at the bar.”
Emma got a pained look on her face. “We went through double our weekly inventory last time they were here. That mead they sell is damn good though.”
“I’ll adjust the order when I go in tonight,” Jono said.
Patrick wouldn’t look at him. “You’re still working?”
“Not much else I can do, not until you hear back from your director. Friday nights are always busy anyway. My workers can use an extra hand.”
“Right. Enjoy that.”
Jono raised an eyebrow at Patrick’s terse words. The anger coming off Patrick was subtle, but there. He didn’t think it was just about asking Emma to act as their proxy dire.
“You all right?” Jono asked.
“Fine.”
The shortness of Patrick’s reply had Jono reevaluating his schedule for the rest of the day. The bar would keep for a while longer until after he’d driven Patrick home and talked through whatever had suddenly put Patrick in a strop.
“I’ll take you home. You can’t have the conversation you’ll need to with the government at the bar.”
Patrick said nothing to that. Emma got gracefully to her feet and padded over to where they sat on the sofa. She settled on the coffee table in front of Jono, head tilted to show off the line of her throat. Jono placed his hand against her throat, feeling her pulse beneath his fingers. The scent of Emma’s pack was strong in Jono’s nose as he pressed his own scent into her skin. She might not carry his strain of the werevirus in her veins, but she’d carry the proxy mantle of a god pack dire against Estelle and Youssef with all the righteousness of a mean right hook.
“I’ll keep watch over New York City,” Emma promised.
“We all will,” Leon added.
“I know,” Jono said.
Because that was what pack did.
4
Luck seemedto be with them when they arrived home and a parking spot had opened up in front of their brownstone. Jono claimed it before anyone else could, locking the car doors once they were out and the luggage had been removed from the boot.
The teeth-shivering sound of stone grinding against stone had Jono glancing up at the roof of the five-story brownstone. Lined up on the edge were the half-dozen gargoyles the fae had convinced to take up residence on the property back in February. They’d started off with three, but once the gargoyles became aware of Patrick’s presence, three more had joined the group.
Jono thought they’d done it to annoy Patrick, who wasn’t overly fond of gargoyles and tolerated them at best because he had no choice. Gargoyles were great home guardians, added value to a property, but they certainly made a mess everywhere. The amount of pigeon feathers that drifted onto the stoop these days was annoying, and their grinding chatter could get loud on occasion.
Jono carried Patrick’s luggage up the flights of stairs to their flat, depositing it in their bedroom. He came back out to find Patrick in the kitchen, pulling a beer from the refrigerator. The air-conditioning had kicked into higher gear, cooling off the flat to a degree Patrick preferred in the face of the summer heat outside.
“Grab me one?” Jono asked.
Patrick silently got out a second beer, opened both, then left the kitchen to hand one to Jono. He would’ve kept walking if Jono didn’t curl an arm around his waist, keeping him there. Patrick took an angry swallow of his beer but didn’t try to break free.
Jono frowned at him. “Why are you angry?”
“You shouldn’t come.”
“To London?”
