He didn’t miss the bodies covered in yellow tarp or the blood splatters all over the pavement.
“Fuck,” Patrick said under his breath.
“Mayor needs to set a bloody curfew,” Jono said.
“No shit.”
They flagged down the officer in charge of the scene, not a bloke any of them were familiar with. The officer was out of the PCB and seemed aware of who they were, at least.
“Is the SOA taking over?” the officer asked.
“It’s a possibility. Right now I want to make sure the Dominion Sect didn’t leave any surprises after the hit at my place,” Patrick said easily.
“Our magic users cleared the area.”
“Great. Any witnesses?”
“Plenty. We’ve taken statements and let most go home who weren’t wounded. The injured were sent off to various hospitals. The owner is still inside with a couple of workers.”
“Wonderful.”
It really wasn’t, in Jono’s opinion.
They headed through the damaged front entrance into Ginnungagap, bypassing the abandoned security checkpoint. The overhead lights were disturbingly bright compared to the last time they’d stopped by.
Chairs and tables had been overturned during the panic, but he didn’t see any bodies. The scent of fear was tacky in the back of his throat as he breathed. Police officers milled about, but the blokes weren’t interested in Jono’s little group. Patrick made a beeline to where Carmen sat, wrapped in her human glamour, at the ground-floor bar, legs crossed at the knee, manicured nails tapping hard against the counter while Naheed tidied up behind it.
Jono didn’t think he’d ever seen someone sip so murderously at a cocktail before.
“You’re late,” Carmen snapped once they were in earshot.
“We were busy gettingattacked, just like you,” Patrick said, though he kept his voice low.
Carmen smiled thinly at him, eyes strangely blue in her face, while her hair was a dark brown, sleekly straight as opposed to her normal black curls. “We held off the attack, but not before attendees got taken out in the crossfire. What is it with humans panicking like fools?”
“We’ve always run from the monsters in the world.”
Carmen knocked back half her drink in one swallow before putting the delicate-looking glass on the counter with more care than Jono thought she’d give it. “Ward us.”
It was Nadine, not Patrick, who cast the silence ward, mageglobe tiny against her palm, fingers curled around it. Quiet settled over their area, and Jono half turned to keep an eye on everyone else around them so they wouldn’t be surprised if others approached. They’d had enough bad optics with keeping secrets over the summer. They didn’t need to give the police an excuse to be suspicious in a situation like this.
“We thought Tezcatlipoca was banished, along with Santa Muerte,” Carmen said.
“He was, as far as I know. But it’s almost Samhain, and Ethan is carving out the veil from the inside out. The gods and other immortals are coming out of the woodwork,” Patrick replied.
“We had some other Night Courts present tonight who didn’t believe gods were real.”
“Don’t they pray to Ashanti?” Jono asked.
Carmen shot him a vicious look. “They have always prayed, but belief in her is not the same as belief in others.”
“I bet they believe now,” Nadine drawled.
Carmen smiled, though it lacked humor. “Tezcatlipoca wasn’t expecting Ashanti to have returned. It would’ve been a different fight otherwise.”
Jono would’ve said that was a shame, but it wasn’t the political thing to voice. Sage would’ve been proud of him for holding his tongue.
“I wanted to make sure no one was dead,” Patrick said after a moment.
