“The Queens Night Court unearthed a small group of hunters hiding out in a motel. They dumped the remains in front of the PCB.”
Jono winced. “I don’t think Casale would’ve liked that.”
“He didn’t, judging by the news conference. None of the packs have been attacked yet, but I ordered everyone to stick close to their territories until you’re back.”
“Good idea.”
“Whenareyou coming back?”
Jono glanced over at where Patrick sat between him and Wade in the taxi’s back seat. “I don’t know.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“No. We’re in Paris now.”
“I won’t ask what you’re doing there. Just stay safe.”
“We’ll try.”
Jono ended the call after a couple more minutes of bland conversation. Patrick glanced at him when he put the mobile away, looking tired.
“How are things back home?” Patrick asked.
“Fine.”
Patrick nodded, taking him at his word.
No one spoke for the rest of the drive to the Paris god pack’s home territory, though the taxi driver’s stench of fear and pounding heartbeat made Jono roll down the window. The man sped away so fast after dropping them off in front of the building the taxi’s tires squealed.
Jono removed his sunglasses and let Sage pack them away in her purse. He no longer needed to hide his eyes since they were eating here and not going out. The Paris god pack’s home consisted of an entire ring of connected buildings on a single block that formed multiple apartments. The property was right across the street from Bois de Vincennes, and their pack scent saturated the area.
“That park would be nice to stretch our legs for a run if we were here under better circumstances,” Sage said as they headed for the front door.
“Yeah,” Jono agreed.
The door opened before they reached it, Rami standing in their way. He eyed them distrustfully and said something in French Jono couldn’t understand, but the annoyed wave for them to come inside was easy enough to parse.
They stepped inside a small foyer, crossing the threshold. Rami gestured at the credenza set beneath a large oval mirror hanging on the wall. A bottle of red wine, four glasses, and half a baguette were lined up neatly on the wooden top there.
“Be welcome,” Rami said in heavily accented English as he tore off pieces of the bread and passed them out.
They ate the bread, drank the mouthful of wine, and the uneasiness Jono had felt upon entering faded away once hospitality was given and accepted. Beside him, Patrick winced.
“Pat?” Jono asked, immediately on guard.
Patrick shook his head and rolled his shoulders. “Nothing. It’s fine. Just some prickly magic.”
Jono took him at his word, mindful of Rami’s narrow-eyed contemplation. Then he gestured for them to follow him.
Like the property Estelle and Youssef claimed as their territory and the one in Farningham, the multitude of connected buildings here had history pressed into their walls. Thankfully, they wouldn’t have to spend however long surrounded by the scent. Rami cut through the level they were on, leading them to a pair of french glass doors in the rear of the building that opened into an inner courtyard.
The lushness of trees and blooming flowers overrode the pack scent, clearing Jono’s lungs. The warm night air was like a soft blanket around them as they approached a long table set with plates, food dishes, and a dozen bottles of wine. All but five seats were taken, and those were located near the head of the table where Mireille and Gaspard sat. Rami claimed the empty seat to Gaspard’s right. Jono and Patrick took the seats by Rami while Sage and Wade sat beside Mireille.
It was a better second meeting than the one they’d had with the London god pack by far, but Jono still didn’t trust it would go easy.
“Bonsoir.” Mireille raised her wineglass at them, the smile on her face one of cool welcome. “You’ve left London quite a mess.”
“Wasn’t our mess to begin with.” Jono gestured at his pack. “You met Sage and Wade at Sacré-Cœur. I’d like to introduce you to Patrick, our co-leader.”
