“Are you happy about that? Or is there bad blood between your god pack and the Salem Coven?”
Georgelle shook her head. “Quite the opposite. We’ve had good history with them for several generations.”
“Preternatural fighting is hell on the tourist industry in this town, and there are some ordinances specific to our community about living here,” Steven drawled.
“Would the Salem Coven be amenable to someone from your pack patrolling Eloise’s home in conjunction with the SOA?”
“We could come to an arrangement with them,” Georgelle said slowly.
Jono nodded thoughtfully. “We’d appreciate it if you’d do that. They’re not quite fond of the SOA.”
Patrick snorted and reached for Jono’s drink. “I can put you in touch with the SOA. The hunters are a problem, but worse is the Dominion Sect threat.”
Steven sipped at his drink. “So we’ve seen on the news.”
“We’ve instructed the packs in Salem to lie low for the next few weeks. Normally this is a time for celebration, but things don’t feel right,” Georgelle said.
“How big is your pack?” Jono asked.
“We’re a small god pack, in a small, if popular town.” She didn’t give a solid number, but Jono wouldn’t hold that against her. “Not as small as yours, but then, ours is not like yours, is it?”
Jono made a thoughtful sound, not taking his eyes off her. “No, it’s not, but it’s not a competition.”
Georgelle smiled slightly. “You’d be one of the few who thinks that. My god pack unfortunately doesn’t have that luxury.”
“Territory fights?”
“Not within our town’s borders.”
Jono tilted his head a bit, thinking about the route they’d driven here. “Boston?”
“In some ways, yes. They’ve been testing our borders for years.”
“Massholes,” Patrick drawled.
Georgelle chuckled, though it sounded strained. “We all resemble that some days. Look, Salem is filled with all sorts of folks with ties to the preternatural and supernatural communities. We’ve learned to live with each other without too much fuss. We’ve had to, if we wanted to stay. Salem isn’t like most other towns. Werecreatures who come here looking for a fight are told to move on. Hunters are a different story. There’s no talking with them, just fighting, and the Boston god pack didn’t warn us the bastards went through their city first before coming here.”
“We don’t get involved in territory fights between other god packs,” Jono warned.
“Ours was enough of a headache,” Patrick added.
More like a bloody nightmare.
Georgelle shook her head. “I’m not asking you to fight on our behalf. But I do hope you’ll find the information useful and look upon the Salem god pack in a favorable light in the future. We’ve heard rumors of your patron, and it’s been several hundred years since a god pack was known to be blessed in such a way.”
Jono tipped his head back and closed his eyes, sending his awareness down deep to where Fenrir resided. The god didn’t respond in words so much as a growl, but there wasn’t any warning in the sound that echoed through his mind, only an acknowledgment of no threat stemming from the Salem god pack.
“We have alliances with half a dozen major god packs the world over, and that number is growing,” Jono said, opening his eyes. “If you aid the SOA with keeping watch on Salem and the Salem Coven, then we’ll extend the same courtesy to you.”
Georgelle’s expression didn’t change, but the relief in her scent smelled like truth. She extended her hand across the table. “The Salem god pack thanks you for your trust and will gladly join into such an alliance with you.”
Jono reached for her hand, ignoring the kind of electric spark that crackled against his skin when their fingers met. “The New York City god pack accepts your terms and will respect your sovereignty.”
A different waitress, probably back from her break, approached their table with a tray holding their food. For a good few minutes after she left, the only sounds at their table were everyone chewing while they ate.
They chatted a little more as the meal progressed, mostly about pack business, the conversation easy enough to get through for the rest of lunch. By the time Jono paid the tab though, he could tell that Patrick was ready to leave.
“You have our numbers, and Patrick will get you contact information for the SOA,” Jono said on the way out of the bar.
