All Souls Near & Nigh (Soulbound Book 2)

by Hailey Turner

  Patrick spoke with the resigned knowledge of someone who knew what the worst looked like. Jono didn’t know Kennedy, had only seen her in passing at the bar, but he knew enough she didn’t deserve what had happened to her.

  When they finally arrived at Ginnungagap, Quetzalcoatl parked on the street near the construction zone. Jono didn’t see any construction workers, and the threshold wrapped around Ginnungagap wouldn’t let anything pass through it without approval by the owner, or itself. Jono still wasn’t sure how the primordial void functioned in the mortal world.

  Patrick’s Mustang was parked in the alleyway, the rear bumper crunched a bit on the right-hand side. Patrick groaned as they passed it by. “My premiums are going up and I’m blaming the hells.”

  A metaphysical wall crashed down between them and the outside world when they crossed the threshold. City noise became muffled, and the skittering feel of magic prickled his skin before fading away. Jono breathed in deep, parsing out familiar and unfamiliar scents. Emma and the others were here. He could pick out the particular scent of a couple of human servants and Carmen’s distinct blend of desire and blood from the unfinished mezzanine.

  Jono wasn’t surprised she was on the premises. Ginnungagap was Lucien’s territory, and if the rest of the vampires were sleeping, someone had to keep watch over everyone here.

  Quetzalcoatl seemed unbothered walking into a place that technically belonged to a different pantheon. He had good company in Hermes, who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor with someone’s head in his lap. Jono couldn’t see Kennedy’s face, wrapped as she was in a cocoon of blankets, but he could smell her distress and the coppery scent of blood. He didn’t realize he’d come to a stop until Patrick nudged him forward.

  “Come on,” Patrick said softly. “Let’s see how she is.”

  Sage met them halfway, her eyes locked on Patrick. Jono watched as the tight line of her shoulders eased as her gaze raked up and down Patrick, taking him in.

  “Are you okay?” Sage asked.

  “Bruised, but I’ll live. Victoria makes good potions even if they taste like shit,” Patrick said. “Where’s Wade?”

  “Back at my place,” Marek said from where he sat on an empty pallet, typing away on his MacBook. “I figured the coin would be enough protection to hide him from a god. Half the pack is home anyway keeping him fed.”

  Sage stepped close and Patrick got a surprised look on his face when she hugged him. He gamely accepted it though, arms coming around her to squeeze back. Jono left Patrick to get scent-marked in favor of kneeling beside Kennedy. Emma and Leon stood behind the immortal, hovering in that way alphas sometimes did over a wounded pack member.

  Kennedy’s bald head was mostly covered by a blanket. Angry scar tissue covered her scalp, indicating her wounds had been so bad the change back to human hadn’t been enough to heal her. Jono carefully settled his hand on her shoulder. Her entire body jerked weakly against his touch.

  “She’s in shock still. It took everything I had to get her to change back. We should get her to a hospital,” Emma said.

  Jono said nothing, gently pulling the blankets down enough to see Kennedy’s heavily bruised face, the bones that were slow to reform and heal, and the gauntness to her body that spoke of deprivation no one deserved to endure.

  “She was worse at the club,” Sage said quietly.

  “Not sure this counts as better,” Jono replied, trying to keep the anger out of his voice and his scent, not wanting to disturb Kennedy. “She didn’t deserve this.”

  Emma crossed her arms over her chest, fingers digging painfully into her upper arms. “No, she didn’t. So tell me what we’re going to do about it.”

  Jono kept his mouth shut, kept his hand on Kennedy’s trembling form, and for once couldn’t completely ignore the howl ripping through his mind. Patrick was the one to pull him back from a feral edge, his hand like a brand on his shoulder. Jono jerked his head up, blinking at the other man.

  “If a rival pack took one of your pack mates or injured someone under your protection, what would you do?” Patrick asked him.

  Jono had to remind himself to keep his touch light and gentle on Kennedy’s body. “To avenge you? Anything.”

  Patrick blinked, the hard line of his mouth softening. “Murder is so much better than flowers some days.”

  “I’ve got bail money,” Marek said absently.

  “Well, you’ve stated we’re a pack now, and your eyes and viral strain put us as god pack status. Think that’s enough to get Tremaine to accept a challenge?”

  “Even if he doesn’t, I’ll bring the fight to his territory. I’m still not keen on doing it through Lucien,” Jono said.

  Patrick sighed. “You know what I promised Lucien. I know you don’t like it, but if giving him the Manhattan Night Court prevents this from happening to other werecreatures, then it’s a promise I won’t feel too bad about keeping.”

  “Not sure trading one master vampire for another even worse one is the best plan here,” Leon said.

  Patrick shrugged. “Better the devil you know.”

  “You’re the only one out of all of us who knows the fucker.”

  “Careful how you speak of my love. We take insults to our master very personally,” Carmen called from the mezzanine. “You have guests, Patrick.”

  “Who?” Jono asked sharply.

  “Wolves.”

  The bite in her voice was all anticipatory violence Jono had no problem matching.

  “That’s my cue to go,” Hermes said. “You should take her.”

  “I’ve got her, Jono,” Emma said.

  She settled on the cold cement floor beside the immortal and gathered Kennedy into her arms. The muffled moan Kennedy let out had Jono clenching his hands into fists. He got to his feet, aware of Hermes’ eyes on him.

  “I think you’ll make this fight interesting after all,” Hermes said right before he pulled out Patrick’s dagger from his inner jacket pocket and tossed it to the mage.

  “Jono isn’t yours,” Patrick warned. He caught the dagger and strapped it to his right thigh with quick fingers.

  “Keep telling yourself that, Pattycakes.”

  Between one blink and the next, Hermes disappeared, sliding through the veil as only an immortal could. Quetzalcoatl remained where he stood, leaning against an iron support beam.

  “Not going to join him?” Jono asked.

  “The arrogance you mortals carry means you miss what is right in front of you. They will see me as they want, not as I am,” Quetzalcoatl said.

  “That’s some holier than thou bullshit right there,” Patrick said as he strode over to the door and yanked it open. “The fuck are you doing here, Estelle? Are you spying on us?”

  Jono closed the distance between them, coming to stand beside Patrick as they faced down Estelle, Youssef, Nicholas, and half a dozen other god pack werewolves on the other side of the threshold. Estelle’s expression was carved from ice, bright amber eyes taking them in.

  “I understand you breached vampire territory last night, breaking our treaty yet again. We are here to discuss your transgression,” Estelle said.

  “How about no?” Patrick replied snidely.

  Jono hooked his fingers around the collar of Patrick’s leather jacket, hauling him backward. “Let them in. I want them to see what their bargaining has done to those they were supposed to protect.”

  Patrick scowled, shrugging out of Jono’s grip. “I don’t got any say if they’re allowed in here, but sure, try to cross over.”

  Jono swept his arm through the air in an exaggerated manner, holding on to his rage with everything he had. Estelle lifted her chin high and stepped inside. Youssef followed, as did Nicholas, but the werewolves they’d brought to use as muscle and intimidation were denied entrance in a rather brutal way. The first one who tried to cross the threshold was picked up and thrown across the alley by an invisible force. He slammed into the opposite building hard enough to dent
the wall.

  “Watch my car,” Patrick yelled, sounding irritated.

  “I don’t appreciate your treatment of my pack,” Youssef snarled, a hint of claws replacing his fingernails. “Let them pass.”

  Patrick smiled, looking a bit demented with his taped-up nose, healing bruises, and messy ginger hair he hadn’t bothered to tame. “I’m not the one keeping them out. What lives here is. If you’re too fucking stupid to recognize that threat, you deserve everything coming your way.”

  The door swung shut on its own. Jono eyed it before deciding it wasn’t worth freaking out over. Instead, he turned to face Estelle and Youssef. “You lot got some explaining to do.”

  “In no world do we owe you anything,” Estelle said.

  “Yeah?” Jono pointed at where Emma sat with Kennedy in her arms. “That so? Could think of loads you owe Kennedy. You remember Kennedy, right, Estelle? Werelion you sold off to Tremaine?”

  Estelle’s gaze cut their way, lingering on Quetzalcoatl in his DEA uniform and the badge prominently displayed on his hip. He watched them with an intensity that even Jono found hard to shake off.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you don’t,” Patrick scoffed, already walking back to Emma. “Get your ass over here so we can refresh your memory.”

  Nicholas looked like he wanted to confront Patrick, but either Quetzalcoatl’s presence or Carmen’s sudden arrival kept him rooted where he stood.

  “You wolves are playing a game you’re going to lose,” Carmen said as she came down the stairs with Naheed trailing behind her.

  Carmen wore the same Kevlar-lined motorcycle bodysuit from last night, her black curls spilling over her shoulders and down her back. As she descended, the glamour she wore like a second skin peeled away, revealing her true form—dark red pupils in the center of inhuman eyes, the twisted horns of her kind, and the push of desire that never seemed to bother Jono.

  She was lethal and gorgeous, and as first impressions went, terrifying in a way that all demons were, no matter their status. Jono could hear the faintest uptick in Estelle’s heartbeat, and he took that as a win.

  “She won’t bite,” Jono said casually. “Not like her master.”

  “And who is her master?” Estelle wanted to know.

  “You’ll learn soon enough,” Carmen replied. “Until then, you deal with me, wolf.”

  “You hold no territory here,” Youssef said.

  “And that is where you are wrong.”

  Carmen smiled, showing off sharp teeth. Behind her, Naheed pulled a wooden rod from beneath the back of her shirt and smacked it against her other hand. The bitter smell of aconite drifted through the air, causing Kennedy to whimper frantically. Jono’s eyes watered, but he blinked the moisture back.

  Youssef’s nostrils flared at the scent. “Aconite.”

  “Pulled fresh from the Old World and bound by a witch to a piece of earth. She was never fond of the four-legged monsters who murdered her children, but the magic she left us is still useful. Some things don’t fade with death.”

  Patrick knelt beside Emma and carefully untucked the blankets from around Kennedy’s head. “You deserve to see what your actions have done. How long did Tremaine have her, Estelle?”

  Estelle said nothing, and neither did Youssef. Their silence was, at best, a way to not self-incriminate themselves, and at worst, pure guilt.

  Patrick stood, fury in his eyes that made Jono proud to know him. “You’ve failed the people who rely on you to protect them. I don’t know how many independent werecreatures have gone missing because of you, but even one is too many.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth,” Estelle told him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? Because I know how they died, Estelle. I know that Tremaine sucked the marrow from their bones. He and his people raped and ate yours when they weren’t forcing them to fight for their lives. So don’t stand there and tell me I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about when you’re the ones letting it happen because you bargained for the graves they lie in.”

  Patrick’s voice echoed angrily in the warehouse, the accusations rooted in a truth Jono would never deny, unlike Estelle and Youssef.

  “We have bargained for nothing,” Estelle finally said.

  “Of course not,” Patrick sneered. “You only have treaties with the Night Courts you’re trying to use to force Jono out. Nothing like a preternatural DMZ on paper to make your conscience nice and clean. But I know a guy who’s real fond of saying a piece of paper doesn’t give you any rights. Doesn’t buy you peace of mind either.”

  “We are not responsible for what happened to Kennedy,” Youssef said.

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “Go look at her, then get out,” Jono growled. “You aren’t welcome here.”

  “You are here on our allowance. Know your place,” Estelle snapped.

  Jono barked out a laugh. “Did you forget when I put your dire on his knees? Don’t make me put you there as well, Estelle. I won’t let you live if you push me.”

  The brittle tension between them only broke when Estelle stiffly approached the others, doing her best to make it seem as if Jono meant nothing to her. Youssef joined her. Nicholas stayed where he was, glaring at Jono but making no move to attack. Jono had no use for the dire and made that known when he turned his back on the other man in a clear dismissal he knew would rankle.

  Estelle and Youssef stopped near where Emma sat. They said nothing in the face of Kennedy’s obvious wounds before Patrick knelt to tuck the blanket back around her again.

  “Now, since I know your type and you lie like you breathe, I’m going to say this only once,” Patrick said as he stood back up. “When I find the others you sold off, dead or otherwise, the SOA will be dealing with Jono, not you.”

  “We are the New York City god pack,” Youssef growled.

  “You aren’t the only god pack in town now, remember? And I don’t trust you at fucking all.”

  Estelle’s jaw worked, her gaze cutting over to Jono. “We have done nothing wrong.”

  “Be careful with your words all you like. I know the truth, and so do they.” Jono flicked his fingers in the direction of Patrick and Quetzalcoatl. “I stand by what I said in the challenge ring, Estelle. I’ve made my pack, and you can’t run me out of town.”

  “And does your pack include Emma’s?”

  The threat in Estelle’s voice was enough for Jono to take a step forward. Emma spoke up before he could answer yes out of sheer spite.

  “I adhere to god pack law, but Marek sent us here last night. It wasn’t within our legal rights to disobey a vision from a seer. The law is clear on that,” Emma said carefully.

  “And I am here at the behest of the federal government, who has jurisdiction over the seer,” Quetzalcoatl added, finally speaking up.

  Marek rolled his eyes at that but said nothing.

  “I’m taking over Kennedy’s care. If you come near her again, I will fight you, and you won’t win,” Jono promised.

  He couldn’t keep the hatred out of his voice and didn’t even try. Estelle narrowed her eyes, but it was telling—oh so telling—that she said nothing in the face of his threat, and neither did Youssef. Jono thought it was a right shame some of her enforcers hadn’t been granted entry to see the way their alphas were backed into a corner.

  Carmen sauntered closer, all sultry intensity that made both Estelle and Youssef drift toward her before jerking back. Carmen stopped right in front of them, her smile a warning even Jono would think twice about ignoring. Naheed stood some meters away, the aconite rod pointed at Nicholas in a threatening manner to keep him at bay. Tiny swirls of spellwork flared to life on the old wood, hinting at the dangerous artifact it truly was.

  “Keep your wolves out of our territory,” Carmen said.

  “Or what?” Youssef asked in a low voice.

  “Revenge is sweet, but regret is bit
ter on a death bed.” Carmen leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. “We will make you regret everything if you cross us.”

  Estelle stared at Carmen for a long moment before she spun on her heels and retreated to the door, Youssef and Nicholas following a second later. Jono let them go. He’d said his piece. Whether or not they accepted it would remain to be seen.

  Once the door shut behind the trio, Leon let out a heavy sigh. “We’re going to be brought to task because of this.”

  “If they try, you tell them you’ve been ordered by the SOA to report any punishment. I’ll consider it witness tampering if they lay a hand on you in any capacity,” Patrick said.

  Jono went to crouch beside Emma and Kennedy. Emma raised her head to look at him.

  “Give her to me,” Jono said quietly. “I’m going to take her to the hospital. Can you send one of your pack members to sit with her?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  Jono tried not to take her instant acceptance as loyalty and choosing sides when they both knew that’s exactly what it was.

  “Can you pick up Wade on your way back, Jono?” Patrick asked. “I need to stay here and figure out what the hell mess Agent Pretzel here got me into with my agency.”

  Quetzalcoatl shot him an unimpressed look. “I got you out of a mess, remember?”

  “No. Áłtsé Hashké got me off that altar, but you’re both immortals and the only thing you guys do is make my life a living hell.”

  Jono ignored their bickering and took Kennedy out of Emma’s arms. The way she tucked herself in close to his body told Jono all he needed to know about the decisions he’d made over the last few days.

  That they were the right ones because pack should always come first.

  15

  Wednesday night arrived with a headache in the form of a master vampire Patrick wished he could shoot. Head, heart, dick—he wasn’t picky, any target would do.

  “Look, I have described every single fucking detail I can remember. It’s not my fault if none of that lines up with the damn subway map,” Patrick complained around a mouthful of chow mein. “Maybe if all of you vampires weren’t such fucking rats, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”