“But he’s dead. Is the government still suing him?” Wade asked.
“We’re suing his estate and looking at other members of his family. He wasn’t the only one signing off on those pawnshop receipts. The Westbergs did a lot of business with Odin’s old alias.”
“What about the Dominion Sect?” Jono asked.
Patrick sighed, his fingers digging lightly into Jono’s thigh before relaxing. “They skipped town. Maybe even the country.”
The farther the distance between Patrick and his twin, the better, in Jono’s opinion.
“I’m okay with a holiday from their bollocks.”
“I think that’s all of us.” Patrick settled a little more in his seat, fiddling with one of the air vents. “Now we just have to deal with Estelle and Youssef’s bullshit.”
“They’ve stepped back a bit from testing our territory boundaries now that every time they do they get reminded the vampires are involved. It won’t keep them away forever though.”
“At least Lucien’s good for something. Guard dog is a good fit for him.”
Jono laughed. “Never let him hear you say that.”
“I’m not stupid.”
Conversation steered away from Patrick’s work to pack updates and the goings-on in New York while Patrick had been in Chicago. They hit rush hour on the drive into Manhattan, but Jono didn’t mind the traffic much, not with Patrick by his side.
By the time they reached the Alphabet City neighborhood Tempest was located in, the bar had been open for a good hour already. They dropped Wade off at the Starbucks a couple of blocks away before circling the surrounding blocks until they got lucky with a parking spot.
“Who’s coming tonight?” Patrick asked as he shut the car door behind him.
Jono locked the car with the key fob before shoving it into his pocket. “Everyone, I think. You’ve been out of town for a bit.”
Patrick made a face. “They’re gonna be invading my personal space, aren’t they?”
Jono laughed, reaching for his hand. “Complain all you like, but you know you’ve missed us.”
“Yeah,” Patrick said a little grudgingly.
Nine months had given them both a new normal—as normal as dealing with gods could be. But their pack and the circle of close friends outside it was something Jono would never take for granted, Patrick most of all.
Tempest was already half-full by the time they arrived, and Sage had kept two barstools open for them between her and Emma. She smiled when she caught sight of them. Setting down her wineglass, she got to her feet and came to greet them.
“Got off early?” Patrick asked as he accepted a hug from her.
Sage discreetly scent-marked him before stepping back. “Yes. I’ll work from home tonight to make up for it. You look tired.”
“Long case.”
“So we saw on the news. Come on, we’ll get you a drink. Leon ordered a couple of pizzas that should be here soon.”
“Only a couple?”
“More like ten.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
Jono had technically taken the night off, but he went behind the bar to pour himself a pint and Patrick a glass of whiskey. He set both down on the counter in front of their seats and turned to ask Sage if she wanted a refill on her wine when an argument outside caught his attention.
The conversation in the bar dipped as Jono dialed up his hearing. What he could hear had him leaving the bar in seconds, preternatural speed getting him outside quicker than Patrick.
“Tell me you’re not that sodding thick,” Jono growled.
“You aren’t the only one who can go where they please in this city,” Estelle said from where she stood by the double-parked SUV out front, with two more waiting behind hers. “It’s a public street we’re on.”
“It’s not free territory.”
Estelle smirked. “You’re right. It’s mine.”
“Is she being delusional again?” Patrick asked as he exited the bar with Sage right behind him.
Estelle’s scent never changed, but her eyes narrowed in a way that told Jono she probably hadn’t expected Patrick to show up. Sage approached the woman who was the reason Estelle had driven into their territory. The dark-haired werecreature stood frozen on the sidewalk between the bar and Estelle’s SUV, clutching a worn rucksack bulging at the corners, her thick curly hair cut to her shoulders and growing out a dye job. She looked to be in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, and the only scent Jono got off her was her own.
Sage pulled the woman aside and guided her closer to the bar to talk quietly. The conversation wouldn’t be private, but it would get her behind them and away from Estelle. Jono left Sage to it and kept his attention on Estelle.
“I already gave you a warning,” Jono said.
“You’ve given her several. Her dumbass keeps ignoring them,” Patrick said.
Emma, Leon, and several other werecreatures exited the bar, lining up on the sidewalk in a show of solidarity. Estelle’s gaze flickered over them before focusing on Jono again. She said nothing as a man climbed out of the SUV, bringing with him the unmistakable scent of sulfur. He was tall, dressed all in black, with a ruddy face. He had salt-and-pepper brown hair trimmed short, a scar bisecting his brown eyes over his nose, and a smirk that made Jono want to rip his face off.
Jono’s lips pulled back in an instinctive scowl as more Krossed Knights and god pack werecreatures got out of the other two SUVs. Beside him, Patrick’s hand strayed toward his dagger.
“You’re not welcome in this city. Or this world, for that matter,” Patrick said.
“Making deals with the devil, Estelle?” Jono asked, never taking his eyes off the Krossed Knight hunter. “Is this who you were entertaining the other week?”
“That’s not your business,” Estelle said. “My business is the girl.”
“She’s not yours. Get moving,” Jono growled.
Estelle gestured in the newcomer’s direction. “Soon as that one gets in the car.”
Sage looked over at Jono, gaze cold and steady.
