Jono held still, his fingers pressing bruises into Patrick’s skin as he slipped inside that tight heat. Patrick slid onto him slowly, opening up just a little more with every roll of his hips. Jono fought against the desire to thrust up into Patrick and have that clenching warmth surround him.
Patrick finally seated himself fully on Jono’s cock, one hand resting on Jono’s chest for balance. His head was tipped back, and Jono raised a hand to stroke his fingers over Patrick’s throat, scent-marking him even if the other man couldn’t smell it.
“Come on, love,” Jono said, voice rough with want. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”
Patrick swallowed, Jono’s thumb following the motion, as he rose up on his knees and sank back down. Slow at first, every roll of his hips loosening him up, then faster, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing in the bedroom.
Jono didn’t let Patrick go, following the motions of his body with careful hands. Patrick picked up the pace, the flush of arousal spreading from his face down to his neck and scarred chest. Jono’s fingers followed the warmth, then drifted lower, wrapping around Patrick’s cock and making him lose his rhythm.
Fingernails bit into Jono’s skin as Patrick cried out, working himself between Jono’s cock and hand. The whine that fell from his lips had Jono’s hips snapping upward, driving his cock deep into Patrick even as he pulled him down.
“Oh, fuck,” Patrick moaned, shuddering as he clenched around Jono. “Right there. Do it again.”
“Yeah?” Jono grunted, thrusting into him again.
The wordless sound Patrick let out made Jono smirk. He kept stroking Patrick’s cock, drinking in the sight of the other man taking pleasure because it was what Patrick wanted. Jono could smell his desire, the heady scent of it filling his nose. He dragged his thumb over the tip of Patrick’s cock, smearing the precum over the sensitive skin there. Patrick swallowed loudly, driving himself down onto Jono’s cock.
Patrick’s pupils were blown wide, but the clarity in his eyes was all that mattered to Jono. “Don’t stop.”
Jono stole a kiss, sweet and fierce. “Never.”
Jono met him halfway because that’s what Patrick wanted. He guided Patrick to the perfect angle that allowed Jono to hit his prostate with every thrust. Sweat made holding on to him difficult after a while as Patrick writhed above him, working himself over on Jono’s cock with a dedication Jono could appreciate.
“I can’t—” Patrick gasped out, losing the rhythm. “I’m gonna come.”
Jono dragged him down onto his cock as he thrust up and didn’t stop, keeping Patrick right there. Patrick leaned forward, keening through clenched teeth as Jono fucked him hard enough to shake the bed. His cock pulsed against Jono’s tight fingers, and Patrick came with a yell, shaking apart above him.
Jono milked every last drop of cum out of Patrick, the warm wetness sticky on his chest. He hooked a hand over Patrick’s shoulder, pulling him down onto his cock even as he rolled them to the side. Jono got Patrick beneath him, and he drove into that tight heat with a growl.
Patrick moaned in his ear, fingers tangling through Jono’s sweaty hair. “Keep going. Keep—gods!”
Jono grabbed one knee and hooked it over his shoulder, giving him more room to fuck Patrick, chasing his own orgasm. Patrick blinked dazedly up at him, sweaty and shaking and fucked out, smelling happy in a way he rarely was, despite everything that had happened.
Jono groaned, burying his face against the curve of Patrick’s throat, biting on the skin there as he came. His hips snapped forward, driving into that clenching heat half a dozen times as he spilled his release inside Patrick.
They lay like that for a minute or two, breathing hard as they recovered from the intensity of their lovemaking. Jono pressed his nose against the heated skin of Patrick’s neck, running his lips over the bruise there.
Eventually, he pulled away, easing Patrick’s leg off his shoulder and pulling out. He stroked his fingers over the too-sensitive skin of Patrick’s hole, catching some of the cum that trickled out. He smeared it between Patrick’s legs before going back for more, rubbing his scent where no one else would ever touch again.
Patrick watched him through half-lidded eyes, hands loose, biting his lip every now and then. When Jono finished, he patted the bed beside him. “C’mere.”
“I should clean you up first.”
“No,” Patrick said, sleepy and loose in a way Jono was proud of making him feel. “I’ll shower in the morning. I want you to stay on me.”
Jono wasn’t going to argue with that request, even though he knew Patrick would bitch about dried cum and itchy skin in the morning. For now, he got them under the covers, pulling Patrick close as the air-conditioning clicked on, the quiet hum chasing them into sleep.
24
“I’m hungry,” Wade complained from the back seat.
“I told you we’d get lunch after the meeting,” Patrick said as he drove through a yellow light.
“I don’t know why I have to go to this thing when I could’ve stayed at the apartment to eat.”
“Because you’re pack, and pack sticks together,” Jono replied.
“Pack should get better at leaving snacks around.”
“Here.” Sage rifled through her Birkin and pulled out a protein bar. “Eat this and stop complaining until after the meeting is over.”
Wade snatched the protein bar out of her hand with a muttered “Thanks.”
Patrick rolled his eyes as the familiar sound of Wade eating filled the car. With the amount of food Wade could consume in a day, he was glad Emma and Leon had offered Jono a raise. Bad enough they had to feed two werecreatures, but throw in a fledgling dragon and Patrick’s paycheck would be stretched thin.
The rest of the drive to Ginnungagap happened without Wade complaining about the lack of snacks. Patrick pulled into the familiar alley, seeing a motorcycle he recognized and a group of god pack werewolves gathered outside the side entrance. The construction workers had the day off again, or at least the morning. Patrick didn’t know what work schedule they were running on, he just knew the club was getting closer to completion every time he dropped by.
Patrick parked and everyone got out of the car, eyeing the group by the door with undisguised disdain on all their faces.
“You’re late,” Youssef said.
“Meeting won’t start without us. You could’ve gone inside,” Patrick retorted.
“The door is locked.”
“Should’ve knocked.”
“We did,” Estelle replied testily.
“Should’ve knocked louder.”
To prove his point, Patrick approached the door and pounded on it with a heavy fist. A couple of seconds later, the handle turned and the door opened. Carmen greeted him with a smile on her face, red-pupiled eyes staring at him. Her curled horns nearly scraped the door when she tilted her head.
“Bastardo,” she purred.
“I know your master likes his games, but Wade is gonna chew off his arm if we don’t feed him soon. Can we get this over with?”
“I’ll chew off your arm,” Wade muttered.
Jono pushed him forward. “Get inside.”
Wade dragged his feet as he shoved his way through the god pack to get to the door. He crossed the threshold with a scowl, sulking like only a teenager could. Sage followed after him, head held high, and didn’t once acknowledge Estelle and Youssef. The growls from the werewolves the god pack alphas had brought with them were met by a smile full of teeth from Jono.
“Piss off,” he told them as he walked inside.
Patrick crossed the threshold and watched as Carmen pushed the door open wider, staring Estelle and Youssef down. “I won’t ask for hospitality because you aren’t worth it. But you will pay in blood if you disrespect my master.”
“And who is your master?” Youssef asked.
Carmen smirked, gesturing lazily with her hand. “Come inside and find out.”
“Maria was the one w
ho called us here.”
“Because we told her to.”
A look of unease flashed across Estelle and Youssef’s bright amber eyes. They kept whatever they were feeling to themselves and stepped inside. Patrick expected the rest of their party to be blown backward like the last time but was surprised when that didn’t happen.
The door slammed shut, and Carmen strode over to the bar where Naheed sat on top of the tarp-covered counter, pointedly cleaning two SIG Sauers. A third pistol, fully assembled, sat within reach. She was, as always, ever the attentive bodyguard during the day.
“The other Night Courts had treaties with Tremaine’s. They still hold treaties with us. Is that why we are here?” Estelle wanted to know.
“A piece of paper doesn’t give you any rights,” Lucien said as he came down the stairs from the mezzanine. “I hold treaties with no one.”
Patrick always found it interesting how people reacted to seeing Lucien in person for the first time. Most didn’t recognize who he was, not immediately, though they never missed what he was. Wearing faded black jeans, a black T-shirt, and scuffed combat boots, his pale skin stood out against the dark clothes. Lucien didn’t hide his fangs when he smiled at the pair of god pack alphas, black eyes watching as all the blood drained from their faces.
“Daywalker,” Youssef said, dragging the word out. He never took his eyes off Lucien as the master vampire approached.
“In the flesh.”
“You killed Tremaine,” Estelle said slowly.
“I don’t care for disobedient children.”
Everyone heard the breath Estelle sucked in past her teeth, a tell—a weakness—her side couldn’t afford to give up. “He was your child?”
“I made him, and I put him down as was my right, the same way I’ll put you down if you get in my way.”
Patrick knew the moment Estelle figured out the identity of the monster walking her way. The way her body went stiff, the faint tremble of her bottom lip as her eyes widened, proved she wasn’t completely stupid.
“Lucien,” she breathed out.
The master vampire’s smile was all the answer she got, but it was enough. No vampire would attempt to impersonate Lucien, and his reputation spoke for itself.
Lucien didn’t stop until he stood toe-to-toe with Estelle, the pack members she’d brought silent in the face of a predator more dangerous than all of them combined. “I wanted the Manhattan Night Court, so I took it. Whatever treaties Tremaine held with your god pack are null and void. Stay the fuck out of my territory.”
Estelle opened her mouth, then shut it, her eyes never leaving Lucien’s face. “We have pass-through rights.”
Patrick didn’t see the Ka-Bar in Lucien’s hand until he had it shoved between Estelle’s teeth, cutting into the corners of her mouth. His other hand had a gun raised and pointed at Youssef’s head before their pack could even think about moving.
“You have nothing but what I give you. I’m letting you leave with your life because the police irritate me and I don’t need them looking my way. Consider it a warning.”
He yanked the knife out of Estelle’s mouth, slicing open her cheek with the motion. Blood gushed down her face and throat, staining her silk blouse. Estelle covered the wound with her hands, stumbling backward. Youssef caught her before she fell, fear and hatred warring in his gaze as he stared at Lucien.
Lucien gestured at the door with his gun. “Get out.”
The other god pack members swarmed their alphas and hustled the pair out of Ginnungagap in seconds. The door slammed shut behind them on its own accord.
“Was that the only reason you brought us here?” Patrick asked.
Lucien licked Estelle’s blood off his Ka-Bar, careful of the serrated edge. “Does it matter?”
“If I wanted to see a show, I would’ve gone to Broadway.”
“Your life choices remain terrible.”
“Yeah, about that. I kept the promise I made to you. Tremaine is dead and the Manhattan Night Court is yours. What more do you want?”
“Yes, your debt is paid. For once.”
Patrick flipped him off. “Fuck you.”
“Get out before I shoot you.”
Patrick opened his mouth, but Jono quickly covered it with his hand. “That’s enough, mate. Let’s be off.”
Patrick scowled against Jono’s palm, but Wade was already hurrying toward the exit. Sage followed after him at a sedate pace, pausing only when she was in Lucien’s line of sight.
“When you’re ready to talk territory boundaries, call me.” Sage plucked a business card from the little pocket on the back of her phone case and held it out. “I’ll set up a meeting with my alphas.”
Patrick stiffened as Lucien approached Sage, but the master vampire didn’t try to slice a second smile into her face. Lucien smirked at her and took the business card, crumpling it up before dropping it on the ground.
“If I need to speak with Patrick, I’ll call him,” Lucien said.
“You’ll call me. I’m his dire, which puts me on par with Carmen. Don’t disrespect me or my pack, Lucien.”
Jono had a proud look on his face as he watched Sage turn her back on Lucien and walk out of the warehouse. “Knew I chose right when I gave her that rank.”
Patrick batted Jono’s hand away from his mouth and headed after the other two, knowing Jono had his six. They left the warehouse for the alleyway, finding it empty of the god pack but not empty of gods.
“Your car hasn’t been fixed,” Hermes said from where he sat on the hood.
“I’ll fix your face with my fist if you come closer,” Patrick said, scowling at him. “Get off my car.”
Hermes grinned and stayed where he was. Quetzalcoatl snorted, pushing away from the driver’s-side door he’d been leaning against. The immortals were in their DEA uniforms but weren’t sweating from the heat in their jackets with the agency lettering on the back.
“Hello, Patrick,” Quetzalcoatl said.
“I have a dragon to feed. If you need to talk about work, it can wait until tomorrow.”
“I’ve heard from Áłtsé Hashké. I thought you’d like to know what he had to say.”
“That’s what phones are for.”
“True, but if we left personal greetings by the wayside, Hermes would be out of a job.”
“Never,” Hermes retorted as he jumped off the hood of the car.
Quetzalcoatl shrugged. “Santa Muerte will follow her worshippers, not the Dominion Sect. She has gone south, at Áłtsé Hashké’s request. He does not want her in his lands.”
“How long will that last?” Jono asked.
“A few weeks. A few centuries. Who knows? Death goes where she likes.”
“And your brother?”
“Ah. A little more complicated, as all families are. He has left New York City, but the Omacatl Cartel can’t be carved out of these streets. I’m sure Tezcatlipoca will find his way back at some point.”
Patrick shared a look with Jono before shrugging. “Maybe by that point we’ll all be dead. Either way, not our problem.”
Quetzalcoatl ran his hand over the top of the car. Power scraped against Patrick’s magic before receding as quickly as it had arrived. “I will do what I can to make sure you don’t have to worry about the case. It’s the least I owe my cousin for my brother’s transgression against a soul debt he never owned.”
“He comes after Patrick again and I’ll let Fenrir tear him to pieces,” Jono promised.
Hermes smirked. “So feisty. I’ll remember to bring popcorn.”
The immortals disappeared, slipping through the veil as if they were never there. Patrick waved a hand at his car, taking down the ward that had hidden the damage accrued from jaguars. The metal, once shredded by powerful claws, was now whole, and the paint job had returned to a pristine black.
“That was nice of him,” Sage said dubiously.
“I’d rather submit a claim to the insurance company and let my premiums rise. I hate
owing gods anything,” Patrick grumbled.
“I’m hungry,” Wade whined as he rifled through three stolen wallets. “Can we eat?”
Patrick snatched the wallets out of his hands, checking the identification inside. Each license matched the face of a werewolf Estelle had brought with her. “Goddamn it. I can’t take you anywhere.”
Wade held up a wad of cash. “Lunch is on me.”
“With stolen money.”
Jono took the wallets from Patrick and chucked them at the far end of the alleyway. No one watched where they landed. “Lunch sounds great. I’m famished.”
“Fine. All of you get in.”
Everyone climbed into the Mustang and buckled up before Patrick started the engine. He took a moment to look at everyone, this pack of family he never thought he’d get to have, much less keep. Nothing was ever certain, least of all war, and Patrick knew all too well what could be lost in the shadow of conflict.
“Ready?” Jono asked, arching an eyebrow.
Patrick put the car into reverse and hit the gas pedal. “Yeah.”
Jono’s hand settled on his thigh, his touch warm and heavy and there. Patrick let it ground him, refusing to pull away. Sometimes peace could be found in the chaos of a life unconstrained from the walls people built. Jono, Sage, and Wade were a weakness, he knew that, but one Patrick was determined to fight for.
No matter what.
GLOSSARY
Short descriptions of words, acronyms, and phrases used in the story that weren’t readily explained in text. Included as well are character names.
Áłtsé Hashké: (Pronunciation: Aht SEH hash KEH) Immortal. Diné (given English name: Navajo) trickster god.
Abuku, Setsuna: Witch. Director who oversees and leads the Supernatural Operations Agency.
Academy: K-12 school that teaches magic to practitioners of all affinities and designations. All provide boarding options to students.
Ashanti: Immortal. Goddess and mother of all vampires. Takes the shape of an Asanbosam vampire out of West African myths.
Beacot, Sage: Weretiger. A Diné lawyer who works for the fae law firm Gentry & Thyme. Dire to Jono and Patrick’s god pack.
All Souls Near & Nigh (Soulbound Book 2) Page 33
