“I know you will.”
Bryson wrenched his wrist out of Jono’s grip, staring at him with an unreadable look in his matching eyes. “So it’s like that between the two of you?”
“What Patrick and I are isn’t your business. You and I aren’t pack, Bryson. We never were.”
“We were mates.”
“Yeah. Don’t make me regret that.”
Jono tugged on Patrick’s shoulder, and he allowed himself to be turned around. He let Jono get ahead of him, all his formidable attention focused on the threat behind them he couldn’t see. But instincts honed by war would ensure Patrick kept his pack safe. He spared a glance over his shoulder only once, seeing Bryson staring at them before the other man finally started to follow.
“If you kill him and make a mess of the hotel carpet, Sage will never forgive us for getting her banned from the Savoy,” Jono warned without turning around.
“No promises,” Patrick said as they left the Beaufort Bar.
9
“We have a problem,”Patrick said.
London was behind them, the A2 bracketed by the smaller towns making up Greater London. Patrick drummed his fingers against his thigh, staring straight ahead at the taillights stretched down the length of the highway. The silence ward lining the frame of the rental car was a bubble of quiet surrounding them.
“We have many. You need to be more specific,” Sage said from the back seat.
“One of their alphas is a demon. Is that specific enough? Because I don’t know what kind, but it smelled gross,” Wade said.
Jono jerked the steering wheel a little before he got himself under control. “What?”
Patrick nodded stiffly. “There’s a demon in Cressida’s soul. My magic picked up traces of its presence.”
Wade leaned forward between their seats. “She smelled like rotten eggs. Like the hunters in New York.”
“I didn’t smell anything,” Jono said.
“Neither did I,” Sage added.
Patrick shrugged. “Then that means it’s either apowerfuldemon riding Cressida’s soul, orsheis a demon.”
“Hunter?”
Jono shook his head. “She’s a werecreature. I smelledthat.”
“That doesn’t preclude her from being a hunter.”
“They hate our kind.”
“We’ll argue about it later,” Patrick interrupted. “Jono, do you know this Devin guy?”
Jono frowned. “He wasn’t dire when I lived in London, but he was god pack. Didn’t ever run with him. He was more interested in climbing the ranks, and hanging out with me wasn’t going to help him reach his goals. He never struck me as dire material though.”
“Do you know what his fighting habits were like at least? Dirty and underhanded, or dirty and underhanded on steroids?”
Sage snorted. “When you’re a dire, you fight to win, no matter what.”
“Oh, good. So you should be able to take him no problem since you’re a lawyer.”
Sage kicked the back of his seat. “Hey now.”
“He’s a werewolf, Sage,” Jono said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Not as big as me, but still fast.”
