“We aren’t late,” Jono said, coming to a stop out of reach of Lucien. He would never trust Lucien, and standing more than arms’ distance away from the arsehole was Jono’s preferred spot to have a conversation.
“Now that you’re here, we can get down to business.” Lucien’s black eyes narrowed some as he stared at Jono. “I hear you’re expanding your pack.”
“That’s not your business.”
Lucien smirked, the expression garish against the backdrop of scars. “My Night Court is leaving New York. I have business in South America I need to handle.”
“So you’re giving up your territory?”
“No. I’m never giving up the Manhattan Night Court.”
Jono blinked at him. “You won’t be here to claim it.”
“You seem to forget how many people are beholden to me. Manhattan is mine and always will be. Whatever we agree to today will hold until I return.”
“And if you don’t return for a couple of decades?” Wade asked.
Lucien stared unblinkingly at them. “Going to miss me?”
“Not on your undead life.”
Lucien shrugged, wrapping an arm around Carmen as she sidled up to him. “I won’t be leaving any of my Night Court behind. Where I go, they go, but the territory here belongs to me. Make sure your god pack remembers that over the years.”
Lucien’s assumption that Jono’s god pack would be ruling for a long time was flattering in a way, but they had no guarantee of continued rule.
“Are you leaving behind a proxy?” Jono asked.
“The Night Courts within the five boroughs are proxy enough.”
Jono knew from experience the remaining Night Courts weren’t to be trusted. It wasn’t trust that drove Lucien to appoint them as proxy but necessity. The vampires who called New York City home knew what Lucien had done to Tremaine last year. Jono had a feeling the Night Courts would toe the line for some years before they started testing the boundaries of Lucien’s absence.
“Fine. The territory borders and pass-through rights remain the same as previously negotiated.”
Jono would keep his word on that, if only because it would provide them leverage down the line whenever Lucien returned. The master vampire couldn’t cry foul and go on a killing spree if Jono could prove they’d kept to the terms of the bargain.
He didn’t think it would be too much of a problem, at least in the near future. When the werecreature community had fought side by side with the Night Courts, it had produced a wary sort of respect for each other’s spaces. He knew it wouldn’t last—nothing like that ever did—but it was one less thing to worry about as his god pack settled in for the long haul.
“Tell Patrick I owe him nothing,” Lucien said.
“If you go after him when he returns, I’ll eat you,” Wade shot back.
Lucien laughed, the sound low and raspy as he straightened up. “You can try.”
Jono held up a hand toward Wade, and for once, the teen listened to the silent command and kept his gob shut.
“Patrick never owed you anything to begin with, no matter what you both thought. Keep your side of this agreement, we’ll keep ours, and you’ll have a city to come back to when you’re done traipsing about the world,” Jono said to Lucien.
The master vampire held still for a long minute, not even bothering with the pretense of breathing. When he finally spoke, the anger Jono expected was missing.
“You know he might not come back,” Lucien said. “But I will.”
Jono tugged lightly on the soulbond, the ragged end drifting to nothing on the other side where Patrick should be. It’d been months, and the emptiness hadn’t changed, but neither had Jono’s belief in a promise made.
“Patrick will always come back. When he does, we’ll be waiting for whenever you return.”
“Not if you’re both dead.”
“ThenI’llbe waiting,” Wade said, showing off his teeth, brown eyes flashing gold.
