“Pack, huh?” he said after a moment.
“Yeah,” Jono replied.
Tom leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his mouth. “Well. I’m chuffed you found one finally, but I can’t pretend I never saw you here. I’ll need to ring my alpha so he can report to the god pack and let them know you’re in town.”
“If you give us a number, we’ll do the announcing for you.”
Tom smiled tightly. “Doesn’t work that way. You know that. But I’ll still give you Devin’s number anyway.”
“Is he the dire or your alpha?” Sage asked as Patrick passed back her mobile.
“Dire.”
“Excellent. As I’m our god pack’s dire, I’ll handle communication.”
Tom seemed amused in a condescending way, but his amusement withered beneath Sage’s steely eyed stare down. He dug out his mobile and scrolled through his contacts before reaching the one he wanted. He showed the number to Sage, who saved it to her mobile.
“Things are different from the last time you were here,” Tom warned Jono as he put his mobile away.
“I wasn’t liked then, doubt I’ll be liked now. Not that different,” Jono said with a shrug.
“You weren’t the only one to leave London, you get me?”
That warning hung heavy in the air between them before Patrick stood, the wooden chair creaking under the motion. “We’re not strangers to pack infighting.”
Tom said nothing to that statement, merely got to his feet with the rest of them. “Glad to see you’re still alive, Jono. Try to stay that way, yeah?”
Despite the underlying warning, Jono still reached out to knock their fists together, just like old times. “Don’t worry about me, mate. Do what you have to, all right?”
It was the same words he’d spoken years ago before leaving. He hadn’t blamed Tom then, and couldn’t blame the other man now for looking out for his own skin. Pack law was brutal, and nothing good ever came of disobedience.
“Are we leaving?” Wade asked from the counter.
Jono looked over to see the mound of wrappers on the bar counter in front of the teenager, the last kebab in his hand and half-eaten. “We are. Don’t leave your mess.”
Wade rolled his eyes and started stuffing the rubbish into the takeaway bag. The bartender came over and offered to take the bag, which Wade gladly handed over. They exited the bar, none of them saying a word on the long walk back to the car. Wade finished his kebab before they arrived, meaning Jono didn’t have to warn him about messing up the upholstery. Only when they were inside the vehicle and Patrick had cast a silence ward did Sage break the silence.
“Are we going to have to worry about werecreatures hunting you as opposed to actual hunters in this city?” Sage asked from the back seat.
Jono grimaced. “Possibly.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to strike a bargain with the London god pack to keep you alive. Neither of you are arguing that case.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Patrick said dryly. “How long do you think Tom will wait before he notifies his alpha?”
“Not long. He probably rang them once we were out of earshot,” Jono said.
“Then let’s get back to the hotel before anyone thinks to follow us.”
Jono didn’t hesitate to pull onto the road. They were halfway to the hotel when Patrick’s mobile rang with an unknown number flashing over the screen. The area code was local, but Patrick didn’t seem to recognize it. He answered after the second ring anyway, and Jono dialed up his hearing to listen in.
“Special Agent Patrick Collins. Line and location are secure,” Patrick said.
“We’re in London,” Carmen said, sounding bored. “We’ll expect you after sunset tonight.”
“Where? A hotel?”
“How plebian. We own a penthouse in Knightsbridge.”
