Jono’s bones thrummed with a growl only he could hear. Patrick glanced back at him, and Jono half thought Fenrir would take control again, but the god remained silent.
Loki’s laughter made Jono’s skin crawl. “If that is your choice, then war it shall be.”
The ghostly skeleton flickered and disappeared, like a glitch on a computer screen. The bone skull clattered to the floor, every spear point following its fall.
Brynhildr spun her spear to rest the metal-shod butt on the floor. She looked over at Thor, mouth pulled into a taut frown. “What are your orders?”
“Ride,” Thor said.
Brynhildr nodded sharply. She angled her spear to press the tip to her throat. Even as the weapon spun in the air, it shrank until it was once again the size of a pendant she hooked to the leather cord around her neck.
“We’ll search for the Allfather. What will you do?” she asked.
“There is a fundraiser dinner scheduled at Au Hall tomorrow night. There are meetings I must take today in Odin’s place.”
“I thought you’d be out searching for him?” Patrick asked.
“Odin would be displeased if we ignored the business of politics in this city.”
Patrick snorted. “Keeping the throne warm?”
Thor ignored him and turned to set Mjölnir on the bar counter near Wade, who stared at it with narrowed eyes and took a slow, contemplative bite of his apple.
“Don’t steal his hammer,” Jono warned.
“I wasn’t going to!” Wade protested.
“You were thinking about it.”
Hinon slid off his barstool and tugged his jacket straight over his shoulders. “I’ll help with your search from on high.”
“Thank you, cousin,” Thor said.
The immortal headed for the exit, knocking a fist against Thor’s shoulder as he went. “This is everyone’s war, not just yours. We’ll find Odin.”
“What are we doing?” Wade asked.
Patrick sheathed his dagger, scowling at Jono. “I drive you guys back to the hotel and Jono here tells me why Eir offered to heal him before I go back to work.”
This time, Jono couldn’t bite back the wince.
13
“What happened?”
Jono sighed. “Can we not do this in the car? I’m fine.”
Patrick didn’t look away from the road. “But you weren’t.”
“I’m fine.”
“Start talking.”
“It can wait until you won’t run someone off the road.”
Patrick’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Fuck you. I have better control than that. I’d just leave you by the side of the road.”
“Not in this weather you wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Jono scowled out the window at the snow that had started to fall sometime while they were in the bar. They’d arrived in rain and left in snow, and none of them had liked what that meant. If the reactionary storm was going to hit Chicago with a blizzard, there was very little time to get ready for it.
“Everything turned out fine,” Jono said. “I’ll tell you about what happened when we’re behind your wards.”
Patrick didn’t respond, but his icy silence filled the car for the entire drive back. The one time Jono turned on the radio, Patrick reached over and turned it off. When he settled his hand on Patrick’s thigh, it stayed there for two seconds before Patrick moved it to the gearshift. Then Patrick’s scent cut out completely as he locked down his shields as tight as they could get. Jono couldn’t read him at all, and he huffed out a frustrated breath.
“Ooh, you’re in trouble,” Wade said sotto voce from the back seat.
Jono resisted the urge to snap at him, knowing that yelling at Wade wasn’t the right way to vent his frustration. Explaining himself had to wait until they were at the hotel and behind a silence ward.
It took time to get there, simply because the unexpected snow was snarling traffic. Chicago was used to snow, but usually the city had more of a warning than an hour’s notice. If the reactionary storm was bringing a blizzard, no one was prepared for it.
When they finally made it back to the hotel, Patrick silently handed over the car keys to the valet. He wouldn’t look at Jono as he strode toward the entrance with Wade on his heels. Jono followed them inside, taking a quick breath to get a read on who might be waiting for them. He smelled werecreatures, but not as many as before. When they made it to the lobby, he didn’t see Monica, but the front desk clerk was there, wearing a dastaar.
It reminded him of the long meeting with Rajesh last night, and not in a good way. The master vampire had been reticent to acknowledge the borders Jono wanted to establish for the packs in Queens, but they had at least opened a dialogue. That was more than what Estelle and Youssef had with some of the vampires.
When they reached the lifts, Wade didn’t get in with them. “You know what? I’m going to go find something to eat.”
“It’s snowing and only going to get worse. Stay in the hotel,” Patrick told him.
“The hotel doesn’t have Target snacks. Target has Target snacks.” Wade pointed finger guns at them and rocked back on his heels. “I’m gonna get some.”
The door slid shut on his smirking face.
“At least he won’t freeze,” Jono said.
Patrick didn’t respond, angrily stabbing the button for the twelfth floor. They rode up in silence, and Patrick exited first once the doors dinged open on their floor. Jono followed him to the hotel room, watching as he wrote a silence ward on the wall opposite the bathroom with angry motions once they were inside. Static bloomed outward through the wall, blocking out the distant sound of traffic below on the street.
“Start talking,” Patrick ordered as he yanked off his jacket and tossed it on the bed closest to the bathroom. “Maybe strip while you’re at it so I can see whatever wound you’re sporting that made Eir offer to heal you.”
“Victoria’s potions were enough to fix me,” Jono said.
Patrick glared at him. “What the fuck did you
