“It’s mine now. I don’t want people to try to take it.”
Wade peered at the gifts the others got, noticing that jewelry seemed to be a theme, something that no one complained about. Sage got a new pendant, Marek a ring, Jono a bracelet that Gerard promised would adjust when he shifted so he wouldn’t lose it, and Patrick received a necklace with a flat medallion stamped with what Wade had a sneaking suspicion was Gerard’s family crest or its equivalent. Which probably meant something, though he didn’t know what, even if Patrick seemed to.
“Oh, youasshole,” Patrick said, eyes wide as he stared at the medallion.
“I don’t let my people go,” Gerard said plainly, reaching out to scrub his fingers through Patrick’s neatly styled hair to mess it up like any older brother would. “You and the other Hellions will always be part of my story, and that means you’re family.”
“I told you not to make him cry,” Keith said with tears in his own eyes.
Wade knew this was probably some kind of goodbye for the old Mage Corps teammates. Gerard had promised the Cailleach Bheur he’d return home, and that meant leaving the shores of America behind. So Wade left them all to their goodbyes and their hugs in favor of finding some more food.
Eventually, the daylight faded into evening, and someone did a fancy spell that seemingly pulled the stars above down to the land to burn in the air above the garden. Wade wandered through the feast tables, picking at his food, feeling fully satiated for once by the time Sage found him when he was thinking about finding a place to nap.
“We’re heading back,” she said.
Wade downed the drink in his hand and left the cup in a shrub. “Okay.”
As fun and entertaining as the wedding had been, he was looking forward to sleeping in his bed, whether the one at his condo or the rooms he’d long since claimed as his in the other pack apartments.
Sage rounded everyone up with a firmness that always came in handy as dire. They said their goodbyes to Gerard and Órlaith, and a pair of fae attendants were tasked with escorting them to the crossroads and beyond. They all stuck close when they crossed the veil, the fog of the empty space disconcerting in a way that made Wade want to stretch his wings. The desire to do so faded once they made it back to Central Park, coming out on the hawthorn path in the center of that urban greenery.
It was noon when they finally returned to the mortal world. Wade pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as Patrick conjured up a mageglobe, the tickle of a look-away ward passing over his skin. Wade let it settle around him and ignored it as he waited for his phone to turn on and connect. When it did, he snorted at the date. “It’s June. We lost a week.”
“That’s about what I expected,” Patrick said as they traipsed out of the shrubbery and onto the asphalt path that would take them back to Fifth Avenue.
They were all tired and full of food. Keith and the other Hellraisers said their goodbyes on the sidewalk just beyond the edge of Central Park, insisting they could catch a taxi orrideshare back to their hotel. The rest of them trekked back to the Art Deco mansion that was home and were greeted by a harried Emma, who promptly deposited an irritable Lillian into Sage’s arms.
“Oh good, you’re back,” Emma said. “The Boston god pack has asked for assistance for a problem their dire refuses to talk about over the phone.”
Wade groaned, the sound mingling with the rest of the protesting noise his pack made.
There went his nap.
CHAPTER THREE
“I can’t go to Boston,”Patrick said, sounding frustrated. “I’m scheduled to be in DC this coming week for a federal trial.”
Wade pried the bottle cap off his beer, the metal bending beneath the force of his grip. The Corona fizzed a little up the neck as he tipped it against his lips and swallowed half of it. Patrick was staring at his phone, scowling at whatever his calendar app was showing him. The week lost to Gerard’s wedding meant everyone was playing catch-up almost immediately when Wade really would’ve preferred a nap. Food comas were the worst.
“Marek is scheduled to go to Silicon Valley for a tech conference later this week, and I’m not leaving Lillian while she’s sick,” Sage said. The poor little girl in question was sitting in her lap, looking miserable with a stuffy nose and big, watery eyes. Sage gently smoothed her hand over Lillian’s sweaty hair before bending to kiss the top of her head. Emma had given Lillian a potion before they arrived, but the common cold was stubbornly tenacious, even for werecreatures.
Jono grimaced, sharing a glance with Patrick. “We’ve all been gone for a week, and I need to stay here to handle any of the problems that cropped up while we were past the veil.”
As one, the rest of his pack turned to look at Wade, who paused in leaning back to finish the rest of his beer. He stared at them, then groaned. “Is it my turn?”
Patrick put his cell phone back in his pocket. “It’s your turn.”
Wade chugged the rest of his beer and set the bottle on the coffee table in the living room. “What’s the deal with their dire not wanting to talk over the phone? And why aren’t the alphas asking for help?”
“She wouldn’t say,” Emma replied, a little grim.
“I wanted to defer to Patrick and Jono since it deals with another god pack’s territory,” Linh said. She had only arrived a few minutes ago, having been notified they’d all returned home and needing to trek down from Hamilton Heights. She’d held down the fort in their absence, but while she could act in Patrick’s and Jono’s stead as proxy when necessary, some decisions she prudently left to her alphas to decide. Sending aid to another god pack with little to no information onwhyaid was being requested was one of them.
Wade knuckled one of his eyes and sighed. “Can I sleep first?”
Jono ruffled his hair in passing before scooping Lillian up into his arms to rock her a little. “Patrick and I will make some calls when we get home. You can stay over tonight. You won’t be leaving today.”
Wade grunted his agreement. When everyone split up twenty minutes later, he followed Patrick and Jono downstairs to their car in the garage, climbing into the back of the four-door dark gray Mercedes-Benz that was Jono’s favored vehicle in the city these days. Patrick still had a soft spot for the Mustang he’d driven for years, but when Jono had finally bought a car, he’d gone for a bit of luxury. Wade could appreciate the leather seats, which he sprawled across and dozed on during the drive to Tribeca.
