Ronaldo blinked at him tiredly, dry lips parting, but no words came out. Marek thrust a water bottle over Jono’s shoulder, and he took it with a nod of thanks. Jono twisted off the cap before pressing the rim against Ronaldo’s mouth.
“Small sips,” Jono said.
Ronaldo obeyed, looking a little bleary-eyed. When he’d drunk all the water he could, Jono let Sage and Emma take over getting him dressed.
The female EMS stepped closer while her partner remained where he was. “Does he need medical attention?”
Jono shook his head. “He’ll be all right.”
His assertation was enough for them to leave, taking their medical kit and gurney with them. Jono stood, the slow burn of anger still simmering inside him.
Sage caught his eye as she and Emma helped Ronaldo to his feet. “You heard what Casale said about the media?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t drive home with Patrick.”
Jono scowled, his instinctual response being to argue that point, but Sage was their dire for a reason. “Fine. But Emma’s car won’t fit all of us.”
“I’ll get a police officer to drive me and Sage home. Emma and Leon can drop you off, Jono,” Marek said.
Jono could only nod and agree to the decisions made on his behalf. He’d argue against it, but it wasn’t worth the bloody headache involved.
Sage tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, meeting Jono’s gaze. “Come to my firm tomorrow. This is something we need to discuss with the fae concerning the alliance. Tiarnán’s partner can tell us what they can safely offer in terms of support.”
“Will he be okay with someone else making decisions in his absence?” Jono asked.
“Yes. Deirdre always speaks for him when he isn’t present.”
He trusted Sage to provide accurate information for the safety and benefit of their pack. She’d never steered them wrong, and he knew she wouldn’t start now.
“All right. Let’s get everyone home safe.”
* * *
Jono heardPatrick’s heartbeat before he saw him. Getting up from the sofa, he padded over to the entrance of their flat on bare feet, hauling the door open before Patrick could fumble for his keys on the landing.
“You look absolutely knackered,” Jono said.
Patrick made a face as he stepped inside, bringing with him the thick smell of hellfire and smoke that completely buried his own bitter scent. “I had to stay until the scene closed.”
Dawn was a couple of hours away on a far too early Wednesday morning. Jono didn’t want to see the sunrise. “Any problems getting home?”
“No. What about you?”
“No attacks.”
“Two in one day is a few too many.”
Jono waited until Patrick finished locking the door and strengthening the threshold before pulling him close. Jono wrapped his arms around Patrick, face tucked against the curve of the shorter man’s shoulder and neck, breathing him in. The hellfire stench made his eyes water, but a couple of deep breaths helped him to make out Patrick’s comforting scent. The bitterness Jono drew into his lungs had never bothered him.
“You need a shower,” he mumbled against warm skin.
Patrick slid his fingers beneath the soft sleep shirt Jono had pulled on after he’d arrived home, the heat of them against the small of his back a comforting touch. “You don’t.”
“Could have another.”
“Mm.” Patrick sighed, pulling back. “Come on.”
