“Jono,” Casale called out as he approached, pistol in hand. “I assume you’re pressing charges this time? And do I need to get you seen to by the EMS?”
Jono pressed a hand over the ragged skin torn across his stomach. The bullet hole in his thigh let out another spurt of blood as he shifted on his knees. He didn’t care that he was naked, but he didn’t want anyone to get close who didn’t have the proper protection against the werevirus in his blood.
“I’ll press charges, and so will everyone who fought with me tonight.” He inclined his head at the aftermath of the fight surrounding them. “Is this proof enough for you?”
Casale grimaced, gaze skating away to take in the bodies on the street, the wounded in need of medical attention, and the police coming forward to deal with it all. “I doubt this is going to make anyone happy, but you weren’t in the wrong.”
Jono would’ve responded, except a sudden sharp tug in his chest made him gasp. He hunched over as the soulbond pulled tight, squeezing his eyes shut as he wasfinallyable to sense Patrick again.
“Jono?” Wade asked worriedly.
He slid his bloodied hand up his chest to press it over his heart and took a breath. He wasn’t about to give voice to the soulbond’s existence, not when they were surrounded by the police. Instead, Jono raised his head and gave Wade a cautious nod.
“Need to give Pat a ring,” he said.
Relief settled on Wade’s face, the red scales finally fading beneath his skin. “He’s going to be so mad you got hurt.”
Jono rasped out a laugh, choking on pain. “Yeah.”
He didn’t care that Patrick would be pissed at him for bleeding all over the street. Jono was just happy he could sense Patrick again through the soulbond. Knowing he was alive was all that mattered.
“Hey now, don’t pass out,” Casale said, catching Jono by the shoulder when he slumped forward.
“Not going to.” Jono swallowed, grimacing at the taste of blood and lingering sulfur on his tongue. “Need my mobile.”
It had been in his back pocket when he’d left the flat earlier, but Wade pulled it free from the front pocket of his own jeans and wiggled it in Jono’s direction. “Here you go. I kept it safe before you left for the fight.”
Jono smiled wanly. “Sticky fingers.”
Wade sniffed haughtily and tossed it to him. “I’ll have you know my fingers are perfectly clean.”
Jono caught it, smearing blood over the screen. He unlocked it and scrolled through his contacts until he reached Estelle’s number, thumb hovering over the call icon.
Casale’s grip tightened ever so slightly. “Let the PCB handle it.”
“You tried. Nothing’s changed.” Jono drew in a harsh breath and hit Call, forcing his lungs to hold steady with Fenrir’s help. He watched as Wade casually kneeled on Nicholas’ back and covered his mouth with one hand to keep him from speaking. The line picked up three rings in. “Estelle.”
The faint pause told him she didn’t think he was supposed to live to see the dawn. When she spoke, Andras wasn’t in her voice at all. “Jonothon.”
“You wanted that challenge ring fight? You’ll get it.”
“Ready to finally die?”
Jono laughed, the sound ugly and vicious. “Whatever bargain you made with Andras won’t save you. I’ll take control of New York City when I leave your body on the ground.”
He ended the call before she could protest the inevitable, breathing through the pain cutting its way through his nerves.
“You fight her now in the condition you’re in, you’ll lose,” Casale said quietly.
“No, I won’t,” Jono said as Fenrir growled in the back of his mind, the god’s presence a promise of support he had no qualms now about using.
22
“I’m going to kill her,”Patrick muttered as he knelt in front of Jono, critically eyeing the slash wound on his stomach that was slowly healing.
Jono cupped Patrick’s jaw with one hand, glad he was finally within touching distance. “That’s my job, love.”
“Can you not talk about murder where I can hear?” Casale asked tiredly.
