Patrick conjured up a mageglobe and pushed his magic through the focus sphere, casting a silence ward around their immediate vicinity. Static hummed in his ears for a moment before fading into an all-consuming silence. Ginnungagap should’ve been enough of a defense, but with demons running amok, one could never be too careful.
Ashanti stepped toward him, the click of ironshod bone hooks ringing in his ears. She was shorter than him, carrying with her a subtle hint of ozone and something more earthy, like freshly turned grave dirt.
She studied him for a long moment, and Patrick met her gaze easily enough. She didn’t scare him; whatever fear he used to have of her had been trained out of him. He knew she could kill him in half a heartbeat, but he also knew she wouldn’t. Ashanti had chosen her side in this war of belief when Persephone had brought him to Washington, DC, all those years ago. Patrick was a means to survival for her children, and she wouldn’t break him simply because she could.
There were plenty of other prey in New York City for her to do that to.
“I haven’t seen you as much as I expected to,” Ashanti said.
“I’ve had a lot of eyes on me since getting back from Europe. I didn’t think you’d want that spotlight,” Patrick said slowly.
“But you’ll come around now to beg?” Lucien drawled.
“Ethan can come after me all he likes. We have the Fates fucking with us because we’re all of the gods’ proxy. I take offense to him going after Jono.”
“The wolf is soulbound to you. Him becoming a target was inevitable,” Ashanti said.
Patrick pressed his lips into a hard line, thinking about his words for once. He’d always been less knee-jerk in his responses when standing in front of Ashanti. If she didn’t like his answer, she tended to cuff him upside the head. Lucien would punch him in the face. As far as love taps went, he’d take Ashanti’s any day over her child’s.
“The gods might have given me Jono, but that just means he’s mine to protect. I can’t keep him safe and fight your war if he’s arrested and jailed or deported. Separation means I can’t use my magic to tap a ley line or nexus through the soulbond. It means we wouldn’t have pack territory in New York, because our claim is run through Jono.”
“You’d have your dagger. That should be enough.”
Patrick couldn’t stop the full-body flinch that hit him at her words. He’d carried her ashes out of the battlefield years ago because of that dagger—she’ddiedbecause of it—and he still couldn’t shake that guilt.
“I wouldn’t have Jono, and I’m not fighting without him.”
“Sounds to me like that’s what the Dominion Sect wants you to do if he is their continued target,” Lucien said.
“Then it would be best for everyone if we don’t give the bastards what they want. No one in the preternatural community will be safe from a demon-infested god pack allied with hunters and the Dominion Sect. We need support across our territory while we try to take them down.”
Carmen sipped at her drink. “You realize none of this would be a problem if you’d done your job in the first place?”
Patrick’s jaw twitched. “Either help us or not. I didn’t come here for my past decisions to get picked apart by you.”
“Your past decisions are the reason we’re all in this mess,” Lucien reminded him with icy venom in his voice.
“I wasn’t the one who lost the Morrígan’s staff in London.”
Lucien slid off the stool, intent on reaching Patrick to punch him judging by the half-raised fist, but the master vampire immediately stilled at a single look from Ashanti.
“The promise you made to me where Patrick is concerned will remain unbroken,” Ashanti said.
Lucien’s expression became impossible to read as he inclined his head to Ashanti. “As you will it.”
Ashanti’s gaze slid back toward Patrick. “You believe Hades is in town?”
Patrick nodded slowly, impressed at the way Ashanti handled the leash choking Lucien but not wanting to push his luck. “The last couple of times we had to deal with hellfire, it was because of Hades.”
“If that god is here, then Macaria will most likely be close as well. Hades was never one to stray far from his daughter’s side.”
Patrick tried not to think about the last thin connection tying him to his twin, buried deep beneath the soulbond. It wasn’t one he could open safely for fear of what might happen. He might owe a soul debt, but he’d spent years trying to protect what was left of his damaged soul.
“As far as gods go, we may have a couple more causing problems. I got assigned a case for a missing artifact stolen out of the Met. A Trishula of Shiva is probably in Ethan’s hands right now.”
Ashanti snapped her iron teeth together, the sound making Patrick twitch. “There are many trishulas in the world touched by prayer. It only becomes Shiva’s when he wields it. I would not worry about it.”
Patrick wasn’t sure how true that statement was, but he figured immortals knew more about each other than anyone else. “If you say so.”
