Considering what Patrick had told them about what lived in Cressida’s soul, Jono wasn’t surprised. “From the kick to the head?”
“After.” Bryson stared down at his tea, his sunglasses sliding down his nose a little. “We had to watch.”
Jono didn’t care for the scent coming off Bryson. Despair always left a sickly taste in the back of his throat and ruined his meal.
“Does she replace her dires often?” Jono asked.
“More than Jessamine ever did.”
Jono shared a look with Sage across the table. She cleared her throat, taking up the questioning. “I expected a longer fight with Devin. He seemed ill-prepared.”
Bryson’s mouth quirked at the corners. “I think any of us would’ve been ill-prepared to face your weretiger form.”
“He was a dire. Our job is to be prepared when it comes to challenges.”
“Devin should’ve never had the job to begin with. Isn’t that right, Jono?”
Bryson looked at him, and Jono reluctantly nodded. “There were plenty others more fit for the job when I lived in London.”
“That was then,” Bryson muttered darkly before sipping at his tea.
Jono wondered how many of the people who were dire material had either fled the god pack or been killed like Devin. Dires were usually some of the strongest pack members outside the alphas. Some god packs chose them to keep them close and in line. Others opted for loyalty over paranoia. The fact that Cressida was running through dires the way a drunk demolished pints worried Jono.
“Who is your dire now?” Sage asked.
Bryson shrugged. “They haven’t decided yet.”
“That means we have to deal directly with your alphas.” Sage glanced at Jono, frowning thoughtfully. “The absence of a dire removes me from direct communication.”
“The fuck it does,” Patrick said.
Jono shook his head. “She’s right. If there’s no dire appointed yet, communication between our packs falls to us.”
“It’s a shame the UK doesn’t allow guns.”
“Pat.”
Patrick looked him dead in the eye. “The London god pack has a bigger problem than we do, and that’s saying something.”
Jono wished he were wrong.
Sage cleared her throat and passed the sugar over to Wade, who happily started to empty it into his tea and coffee. “I don’t believe they have a civil war problem.”
“Yet,” Patrick bit out. Sage lifted her mug in a silent toast of agreement at him before sipping at her tea.
“Is Sage right?” Jono asked, turning his head to look at Bryson.
Bryson looked up from his tea, blinking at Jono through his sunglasses. “You left. Things changed.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“You could’ve stayed.”
Jono thought about Marek’s promise back then and his future sitting on the other side of him now, angrily sipping coffee. “There was no chance of me staying.”
The other man sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Probably for the best, mate. I shouldn’t be telling you this, what with you being a rival pack now and all, but the London god pack is a right mess.”
“So we’ve been told.”
