“I’ve spent my entire career advocating for those in the preternatural community who are disenfranchised. I’m not here to betray you.”
Patrick said nothing to that, and Jono sighed. He wouldn’t ever pressure Patrick to disclose personal information, which meant he had to treat Wade with the same sort of respect. Catching Wade’s eye, Jono gave the teenager a nod.
“It’s up to you,” Jono said.
Wade sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m a fire dragon.”
Danai blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
Red scales pushed through human skin, flowing up Wade’s neck and over his jaw to cover his face. Brown eyes turned gold, pupils elongating to black slits. Danai’s eyes went wide, her laptop nearly sliding to the ground. She quickly pulled it back, but other than the surprise seeping into her scent, that was the only giveaway of her reaction.
“Human magic doesn’t have any effect on me. I stopped the mage’s spells while Jono fought the werecreatures and hunters.” Wade glanced at Jono, wiping his fingers on his jeans. “He told me not to tell the police that.”
“I see,” Danai said slowly. “I don’t think I’ll be putting that into my notes.”
“I told the police a fae and the protective wards held off the Dominion Sect long enough for me to get out of there before they broke. That’s the story we’re telling to keep Wade safe,” Jono said.
The red scales faded, and Wade’s eyes returned to normal. He dug out the last foil packet of Pop-Tarts from the box on his lap and ripped it open. He didn’t hesitate to bite into the strawberry-flavored snack.
Danai stayed for two more hours, jotting down notes and taking in a sanitized history of their fight with Estelle and Youssef’s god pack. They didn’t tell her everything—nothing about the gods, their soulbond, or Patrick’s past—but enough for her to build a possible first defense on if the police came after them.
“You’ll call me before speaking with the police,” Danai said when they finally saw her to the door.
“Of course,” Jono promised.
“I highly recommend hiring a crisis PR firm. I’ll email a couple of suggestions to Sage if she doesn’t have one on retainer already.”
“It’s something I was thinking of, but no, I haven’t reached out to anyone yet,” Sage said.
Danai nodded. “I’ll contact you tomorrow.”
They said their goodbyes, and Jono shut the door behind her. Normally he’d have offered to walk Danai to her car, but the media was still parked outside their home, and Danai had assured him she’d be fine. She seemed the sort to eat the press for breakfast with her morning coffee.
Jono looked at Sage and Wade. “I think both of you should stay the night. Who knows how long the media will stay camped outside.”
“We never did have our meeting with the fae today,” Sage said tiredly.
“We can have it tomorrow. Wade and I will go into work with you.”
Patrick rubbed at his eyes, already turning around to head for their bedroom. “I have a meeting with Lucien and Ashanti tomorrow about this whole fucking mess.”
“Do you want me to go to that one as well?” Jono asked as he followed after Patrick.
“No. I’ll be going on my lunch break, whenever I can take it. Besides, we really shouldn’t be seen together right now.”
The words came out reluctantly, and Jono’s knee-jerk reaction was to protest, but he knew Patrick was right. Despite co-leading their pack, revealing Patrick’s position right now would only make their problems worse. Everything that had happened in the past forty-eight hours was proof of that.
Jono closed the bedroom door behind him and got into bed. Patrick stripped out of his clothes and turned off the light before crawling under the covers in a pair of sleep boxers. Jono wrapped his arms around the other man and pulled him close.
“We’ll get through this,” Jono murmured against Patrick’s lips, kissing him softly. “Together.”
Because that was the only way they’d ever stand against the world.
7
Traffic in Manhattanwas slightly better on Thursday, but that wasn’t saying much. The MTA had shut down the subway line the C and two other trains traveled on to replace the damaged protective wards and repair the tracks and tunnel. Patrick wasn’t part of that team doing the ward repairs since he’d do more harm than good. Defensive magic wasn’t his affinity, and besides, nearly everyone in the SOA still considered him a mage in name only these days.
Work on the missing Trishula of Shiva case had been momentarily sidelined while the SOA focused on the new Dominion Sect threat. Patrick hadn’t been given lead on it this time, despite his past history with the group. He couldn’t exactly say he was displeased about that, if only because the SOA was looking into the god pack civil war as well, and wasn’tthata mess just waiting to be spilled.
