“I’m told it was self-defense,” the older detective from the PCB said. His badge listed his last name as Sanderson.
“My mates and I were here for our wedding suit fittings when the hunters attacked us. What was I supposed to do? Let the bloody arseholes shoot us?” Jono asked, not bothering to keep the anger out of his voice.
“I wasn’t suggesting that. It’s clear they were the aggressors in this incident. It’s the why we’re after.”
Jono glanced over at the body that was still on the ground. The hunter’s partner had already been taken off to a hospital with an officer in tow since he was under arrest. The body had yet to be removed because the ones to process the scene had arrived with the officers out of the PCB and weren’t done gathering evidence. He wished Patrick had come with them.
“I’m the alpha of the New York City god pack. There’s your reason,” Jono said.
“My understanding is there are two god packs.”
“Mine is the only one that matters. Why do you think they keep trying to murder me?”
“Is that what you think this was about?”
Jono resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Why else go where they weren’t supposed to be, armed to the bloody teeth, and open fire on innocent people?”
“I don’t need your attitude when I’m trying to get all the facts.”
Jono’s mobile started to ring from somewhere on the floor. He’d had it out on the side table before things all went to shit and was glad to discover it hadn’t been damaged. “That’s my mobile. Mind if I retrieve it?”
“I still have questions for you.”
Jono’s mobile didn’t stop ringing. Leon’s started up, then Marek’s. His shoulders tightened at the sound. The only reason people would be ringing them all at once would be because something was wrong.
Marek was the one who finally got permission to answer his mobile, his status as a seer getting him cleared far faster than Jono or Leon. Jono dialed up his hearing in order to listen in on the conversation.
“Sage, listen. We’re all right, but we were attacked by hunters, and we’re dealing with the police right now,” Marek said.
“What?” Sage snapped loud enough Jono was sure the officer standing near Marek heard her.
“We’re fine, I promise. We’re—”
“I’ve received word five of the packs under our protection were attacked by hunters and other god pack members within the last thirty minutes. Several people are dead.”
Marek froze, and he snapped his head around, gaze finding Jono’s unerringly. “Shit.”
“Hey, are you listening?” Sanderson asked, breaking through Jono’s concentration.
“Am I free to leave?” Jono asked, ignoring the question when the answer was obvious.
“I still have some questions.”
“Then can you hurry it up? There’s pack business I need to handle.”
Sanderson tapped his pen against his little notebook. “I’ll take as long as I need to.”
Jono ground his teeth and took a deep breath, knowing this was something he couldn’t walk away from. It rankled though, that the people he’d sworn to protect were hurting or dead, and he was stuck in a fashion store repeating his story for the third bloody time already.
He knew better than to piss off the police though. All Jono could do was follow their orders and hope he didn’t get arrested for defending himself. The laws surrounding the preternatural community differed slightly when it came to situations like hunters, but Jono wasn’t a United States citizen. Getting charged with a federal crime would be a one-way ticket to deportation after serving whatever sentence was handed down.
Jono wondered, as he went through the rigmarole of answering the officer’s questions, if that maybe wasn’t what Estelle and Youssef were ultimately after. It’d be easy for them to take back New York City if he was forced out of America.
Years ago, Marek had promised him a future with a pack he’d never have found in England. These days, fate wasn’t set in stone, and Jono couldn’t be sure the future Marek had seen wasn’t changing.
3
Patrick banged his way into Tempest sometime after 1800, phone clutched in one hand as it had been for most of the day ever since getting the call about the attacks. He hadn’t been able to leave because he’d been working out of the SOA field office. The optics would look awful if the government discovered he’d turned his back on a case for personal reasons, despite those personal reasons making the news. Recusal couldn’t happen because the government didn’t know he was pack.
Needing to hide his ties to the preternatural community was becoming more and more of a significant problem.
The bar was way more crowded than it usually was on a Tuesday evening, but everyone got out of his way as soon as they realized he’d arrived. Patrick made a beeline for the stairs in the rear that led to the sublevel of the bar. He shoved his phone into his back pocket on the way down, not bothering with a silence ward. The bar was closed tonight to anyone who wasn’t pack. Everyone drinking upstairs had come with their alphas.
The sublevel was opened up depending on the night and the crowd, or if there was a private event going on. Tonight, it was as packed as the main bar upstairs, with every alpha of the packs under their protection present for the meeting Jono had called. Tempest was technically neutral ground, but it was also the only public place big enough to hold the people who’d been summoned since he and Jono didn’t have access to the legacy territory and buildings currently held by the other god pack.
Like upstairs, people shifted aside so Patrick had a clear way to the table someone had pulled away from the wall to the center of the floor. Without the crowd in the way, Patrick spotted Jono immediately. He didn’t care about their audience when he finally made it to Jono’s side, framing the other man’s face with both hands. Patrick kissed him with a bruising intensity that didn’t do anything to ease the knot of fear in his chest.
“I’m all right, love,” Jono said when Patrick broke the kiss. Patrick was glad to see he looked it, but the tightness around his mouth spoke of choked-down fury.
“Not everyone else is,” Patrick said, taking the empty seat to Jono’s right. “Fuck. This was a coordinated attack.”
“Aimed at the strongest packs under our protection. Two people are dead. One pack member each from the Monterossi pack and the Davenport pack,” Sage said.
Her chair was between Marek and Emma, and Marek had his arm around her waist. Wade sat on the other side of Emma, even though technically he was too young to be allowed in the bar. With everything that had happened today, Patrick was fine with breaking the law to ensure Wade was safe. No one in their pack could afford to be alone right now.
Patrick grimaced, reaching for Jono’s hand underneath the table. Jono’s grip was warm and firm, his thumb dragging over the back of Patrick’s hand. The press of his knee against Patrick’s was a solid reminder that he was alive.
He’d been caught up at work with the missing artifact case when his phone had blown up from calls and texts from the alphas whose packs had been targeted. Then he’d gotten the update from Sage about the attack on Jono, and Patrick had very nearly put his fist through the wall of his office. Being unable to leave to check on Jono had been a special kind of hell.