“Not looking to get drunk.”
He had in the past, but that was then, and Patrick needed to be clearheaded today. Besides, Jono had taught him better habits over time.
Jono stared at him, not backing down. “Please?”
“No bars,” Patrick promised.
“There better not be any zombies,” Wade muttered before swallowing half his coffee in one burning gulp that didn’t bother him.
“Don’t tempt fate.”
“They’re assholes anyway.”
“Exactly why you shouldn’t tempt them.”
Wade scrunched up his nose before setting his coffee mug on the low table by the couch so he could tear open his packet of Pop-Tarts. “When are we leaving?”
“Soon.” Patrick eyed Wade’s jeans and T-shirt. “Where’s your jacket?”
“I don’t need one.”
“It’s October. Go grab a jacket from the closet in the guest bedroom,” Jono told him.
“I’m not cold,” Wade protested.
“You get to pretend it’s cold.”
Wade groaned but still went to get one. He and Sage had clothes stashed in their apartment for occasions like this. Wade being a fledgling fire dragon had to be reminded to act human some days. He was growing into his heritage and had come a long way emotionally from when he was rescued last year. Therapy and the support of the pack had slowly taught him to trust again, though that trust was limited to exactly three people.
Wade came out in a light jacket that had his favorite hockey team logo patch over the left chest area. His wavy, dark hair peeked out from beneath a beanie he’d found and was now wearing.
“Do they serve breakfast on the plane?” Wade asked.
Patrick sighed. “No.”
Jono quirked a smile at Patrick. “Let’s get you to the airport. You can feed him there.”
“Great. My wallet thanks you.”
Patrick drank the rest of his coffee in two big swallows and went to get his leather jacket with its embedded magic. The police had located it in the old god pack’s former territory in Hamilton Heights on their crime scene sweep after the challenge fight in Central Park. These days, Patrick wore the charmed jacket like armor, but the best protection he had was his pack. For all the uncertainty ahead, Patrick knew he wouldn’t face it alone.
It only took a few minutes to clean up and leave the apartment. Jono was driving, and it was early enough that traffic wasn’t too much of an issue. When they finally made it to the passenger drop-off zone in LaGuardia, Jono leaned across the console to kiss Patrick goodbye.
“I love you,” Jono said when he pulled away.
Patrick responded the only way he ever did these days. “I’ll come back.”
It was a promise he refused to break.
2
“Hear me out,”Wade said as they trekked over rain-soaked grass. “Hot dogs wrapped in paper American flags and sold from carts.”
Patrick shook his head as they walked between rows of white headstones that marked the graves in the section of Arlington National Cemetery for those who had died during the Thirty-Day War. “Food isn’t allowed in Arlington.”
“But itcouldbe.”
“You come here to pay your respects, not have a picnic. That’s what I’m doing.”
