“They know Wade wouldn’t stand for it.”
Patrick would’ve kept complaining—he didn’t like the gargoyles because they considered annoying him a fun game—but Jono kissed the words away. He wrapped his arms around Jono’s neck, keeping him in place for a long moment.
Patrick hadn’t been able to appear at the pack meeting at the bar tonightbecauseof the media attention. He’d joined via videoconference, but it hadn’t been the same, and he’d worried over Jono getting home until the other man walked through the door.
“Sage dropped me off,” Jono said when they finally separated.
“How did the meeting with the fae go today?”
Jono headed for the kitchen, and Patrick trailed after him. He watched as Jono rifled through the refrigerator, pulling out leftovers to make up a plate.
“Tiarnán is apparently back, though it was longer for him past the veil.”
“Typical time difference.”
Jono nodded. “Apparently the fae are in a bit of a tiff. One of their higher-ups has gone missing.”
Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Who?”
“Tiarnán wouldn’t say, though I offered our help in finding whoever it was. We did all right with Órlaith last year.”
“Not sure we need to go hunting up another missing fae when we’re already being targeted.”
“We have an alliance to keep.”
Patrick sighed. “I know. Maybe I should reach out to Gerard.”
“Couldn’t hurt.” Jono stuck his plate in the microwave to heat up the food. “Speaking of alliances, how did your meeting with Lucien and Ashanti go?”
“Lucien is still keeping to the bargain he made with us. He’s not happy about it, but they’ll watch our borders at night after sunset and before sunrise. The hunters are a danger to all of us, especially with Andras in town. I think even Ashanti recognizes that.”
“She’d be daft not to.”
The microwave beeped, and Jono pulled out the plate. He set it on the counter and ate standing up. Patrick moved to get them both a drink. “Beer or something else?”
Jono waved the fork at him. “Had enough beer at the bar. Water is fine.”
Patrick would’ve preferred some whiskey to soothe his nerves after the last couple of days, but he opted for water as well. If he went for the whiskey, he knew Jono would probably take the bottle away. So he poured them filtered water from the pitcher in the fridge and took up space next to Jono at the counter.
“What did Ashanti have to say about all this?” Jono asked as he twirled chow mein around his fork.
“She’s letting the status quo remain.”
Jono caught his eye, voice careful in its gentleness. “Are you sure we can trust her?”
Patrick bit down on the reflexiveyesthat wanted to escape his lips. His opinion of Ashanti was tinged by the years she’d popped in and out of his life to help train him and the guilt he felt at her death, however misplaced that might be now. She’d always been secretive, but she’d never lied to him about his predicament. Patrick knew his opinion of her was colored too much by his past, but he couldn’t help it.
“We can trust she wants to see Ethan dead, and she’ll do whatever it takes to see that happen,” Patrick finally said.
“Like dying?”
Patrick curled his hands into fists to stop himself from reflexively reaching for the dagger he wasn’t currently carrying. He’d left it on the nightstand after his shower earlier.
“The gods from heaven couldn’t breach Ethan’s spellcasting in Cairo. Ashanti could. She technically aligns with the hells, and it enabled her to subvert his defense. The dagger made her a target, but she got it to me in time.” Patrick listed to the side, letting his head fall against Jono’s shoulder. “If you’re asking would she die for our side again? I don’t know.”
Jono wrapped his arm around Patrick’s waist, sliding warm fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his sleeping pants. “It’s not your fault what happened. Wasn’t back then when you didn’t know the truth of her myth, and it isn’t now. I’ll say that as many times as you need to hear it.”
His words made Patrick’s breath hitch in his throat. He closed his eyes, ignoring the way the counter dug uncomfortably into the small of his back. Jono radiated warmth Patrick wanted to soak up, even in the height of summer.
