Jono could smell Casale’s annoyance, but none of it seeped into the expression on his face. “He’s not being detained, but we weren’t finished taking his statement.”
“You can call my office tomorrow to inquire about finding time in my schedule for that.” Danai raised an eyebrow at Jono, and he rather felt like when he was a lad and getting in trouble with his mum in that moment. “Let’s get you home, Jonothon.”
“It’s Jono,” he said, getting to his feet.
She graced him with a smile that was kinder than the steel in her voice. “Jono.”
He went to follow her out of the interview room, pausing at the doorway to look back at Casale. “My pack isn’t a threat and isn’t the problem. You know who is.”
Casale said nothing to that warning. Jono hoped the months of reports of pack fights instigated by Estelle and Youssef, the hunters who hadn’t left the five boroughs, and the arrival of the Dominion Sect would be enough for the PCB to finally go after the ones responsible. The subway attack was a strike at the heart of New York City, and Jono refused to let his pack be painted as the guilty party for it.
“The media is out front but cordoned off down the block due to the wards on the PCB’s building having been activated. You will be on television. Questions will be shouted from a distance. Do not engage with the press,” Danai said as she led him down the short hallway.
“Wasn’t going to,” Jono told her.
“Your home address has been leaked. You have a media presence near your apartment building. The gargoyles are keeping everyone at bay so far, but you’ll want to keep your curtains drawn and be wary of anyone buzzing your call box asking for access or announcing deliveries.”
Jono’s stomach clenched, and not from hunger this time. “Bloody hell.”
Danai seemed to know her way around the PCB well enough not to need an escort. She led him to the lift bank, and they waited for one to arrive. Jono wanted desperately to ask about Patrick, but he wasn’t going to say his lover’s name where the police could overhear it. Sage would smack him if she knew he broke attorney-client privilege by speaking about things he shouldn’t in public.
Jono followed Danai into the lift when it finally arrived, and then through the secured door that led to the PCB’s lobby after they took it down. It was late, but the cement on the sidewalk outside the building was still warm under his bare feet. As Danai had warned, the media was clustered down the sidewalk at the property edge of the PCB building, watched over by police. Cameras were pointed in their direction, and as soon as they appeared, journalists started shouting questions.
“Ignore them,” Danai reminded him.
Jono nodded and kept his gob shut. A black Escalade was parked right out front, hazard lights on, tinted windows making Jono strain to see who was inside. He could hear Sage’s heartbeat, and the familiar sound was enough to fractionally loosen his shoulders.
Danai held the back passenger door open, and Jono climbed inside to sit beside Sage on the middle bench. She immediately wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, face tucked against his neck as she breathed in deep.
Jono ran a hand up and down her back. “I’m all right.”
“They tried to crush you in a subway train. Forty-three people are dead, twice as many are injured, and our pack is trending on social media, but not in a good way,” Sage muttered.
Danai climbed into the driver’s seat and closed the door. “It’s going to be a long drive home, but that will give us some time to discuss the situation at hand.”
“Casale said traffic was bad,” Jono said.
“Bad is a horrific understatement. The MTA is running every bus at their disposal, but that’s not enough to replace the reach of the subway system. It’s going to take at least an hour to get you home, if we’re lucky.”
Jono’s stomach growled in protest. Sage pulled away and reached for the reusable bag at her feet. She pulled out two deli sandwiches wrapped in soggy paper and handed both to him. “I have more, but start with this.”
Jono gratefully took the food and unwrapped the first sandwich as Danai drove off. The street they were on was cleared for police access, but they met gridlock half a block away. The one upside was that it would hopefully make it harder for the media to follow them. Then he remembered the press knew where his flat was.
“Where’s Patrick?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
“At your apartment with Wade. He was assigned with other SOA special agents to work the subway scene because of the damage to the protective wards.”
“Is he taking lead on the case?”
Sage shook her head. “No. Patrick said Henry is handling it directly because of the Dominion Sect’s interference and the target. He’s home right now because we all need to be present for the meeting with Danai.”
Jono glanced at the older woman. “Doesn’t that make a mess of confidentiality?”
“I’m representing your pack as a whole and all of you individually,” Danai said, looking back at him in the rearview mirror since they were stopped several cars back from an intersection.
“I’m not sure if Patrick should be included.”
Sage frowned at him. “He’s pack.”
