“Whoa, don’t go at each other’s throats. You’re both on a timeline you can’t afford to miss,” Wade said, cutting Riordan off as the other man opened his mouth to argue.
Riordan scowled at Ella, but his tone was grudging when he spoke to Wade. “I can’t speak for the other clans with regard to an alliance.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Riordan stared at Wade, and Wade stared back, arching an eyebrow for good measure. He could outstare anyone and had when it came to the last snack in his pack’s various homes. The only person he ever lost to was Lillian because she deserved to win every time. “The Boston god pack will keep its word. You need to promise to keep yours as well. Neither of you want each other’s territory; you just want your people back.”
Riordan’s eyes were big and brown, and Wade was about five seconds away from getting distracted by counting the freckles scattered across his sharp cheekbones when the other man finally broke their staring contest.
“Clan Maguire will ally with the Boston god pack. We cede no territory,” Riordan said.
“On behalf of my alphas, the Boston god pack agrees to the terms of the alliance and also cedes no territory,” Ella said. She extended her hand to Riordan, and he accepted her handshake without trying to out-squeeze her.
Wade clapped his hands together, looking at them. “Great. Now that we’re all friends here, one of you gets to play tour guide for me.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You need to be careful, boyo,”Donal warned in their native language.
Riordan squinted at his older brother before shoving his sunglasses onto his nose. “Careful isn’t going to get Saoirse’s sealskin back.”
“I’m not talking about Niall. I’m talking about Wade most likely being part of the core of the New York City god pack. You know what that means.”
Riordan let his gaze slide away from Donal to focus on where the young man in question was talking with Ella. He didn’t answer immediately, letting his attention linger on the New Yorker in their midst.
Wade was taller than Ella and nearly at eye level with Riordan, leanly muscled, with skin Riordan was certain would tan darker given enough time in the sun. His dark brown hair was shaved short underneath while grown long up top, wavy and messy in a way that made Riordan itch to get his fingers in them and put it to rights. He looked less like he was playing dress-up now than he had during the wedding. Wade couldn’t be older than twenty-one, at most, and Riordan had a rule about not tumbling mundane humans into bed.
And there was the problem. Wade looked and smelled and laughed like a mundane human, but looks could be deceiving.
Everyone in the supernatural and preternatural communities knew the core of the New York City god pack as it was now was a legend in their own right. Jonothon de Vere had been the mouthpiece for Fenrir, the first god pack alpha in far too long to carry the favor of an animal-god patron. Patrick Collins had been god-touched in every way that mattered, whether he accepted that or not. One didn’t get the entirety of the gods of heaven—Seelie fae included—fighting alongside him without being chosen by them.
Sage Taylor was a dire who could go toe-to-toe with the fae and outbargain them at their own game half the time. All signs pointed to her being one of the Lord of Ivy and Gold’s legal protégés, which would make her a force to be reckoned with in a few years’ time.
Wade was something else. Something different. None of the rumors that had crawled out of Manhattan after the Battle of Samhain could agree on his role in the pack or during that near-world ending fight. Riordan’s clan and their kin had been water-bound for all of that fight. He’d never seen the fighting in the streets and so couldn’t say for certain that the wildest rumors about the New York City god pack’s fourth-ranked pack member were true.
What he did know for certain was they’d have that god pack knocking on their front door, looking for retribution, if Riordan let anything happen to Wade.
“I’ll keep an eye on him. I have zero interest in meeting his alphas,” Riordan said. He didn’t tell Donal that he had one hundred percent interest in Wade for other reasons that had exploded in his face the second he’d caught sight and scent of the other man.
His statement seemed to satisfy Donal though, who reached out to grip Riordan’s shoulders and give him a little shake. “Don’t lose your skin. Come back whole.”
“Always.”
They’d driven to the Boston god pack’s territory in Donal’s car, and he left with a squeal of tires too loud for the weekday morning. Riordan waited only mostly patiently for Wade to finish up his conversation with Ella. After another minute, Wade jogged to where Riordan stood on the sidewalk.
“Which car is yours?” Riordan asked.
In answer, Wade pointed a key fob at the pristine Audi parked on the street, causing the headlights and taillights to flash as the alarm beeped once. “I’m driving. Your first duty as tour guide is to find us breakfast.”
Riordan stared at him. “Are you serious?”
Wade’s stomach growled, but he didn’t seem embarrassed at all. “I’m not sightseeing on an empty stomach.”
“We’re not sightseeing at all.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Get in, seal-boy.”
“Seal-boy? I’m older than you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Everyone in my pack is older than me except my niece. That doesn’t make you special.”
