A Ferry of Bones & Gold (Soulbound Book 1), page 22
Hades smiled, the expression coloring in old nightmares in ways Patrick could have done without. Those dark eyes looked behind him at where Jono stood with a covetousness Patrick didn’t appreciate at all.
“If not you, I’ll take the wolf. I’d rather not go to war with the Norse gods just yet, but needs must. Either way, I will take a soul with me to hell today,” Hades said.
The soultakers lunged forward, half the horde coming for Patrick while the rest went after the Tempest pack. Patrick repositioned his rifle against his shoulder and braced himself. He switched the M4A1 carbine over to fully automatic and held down the trigger. The loud release of bullets sounded like thunder in the air, echoed by Nadine’s weapon. Her shields glimmered with a faint violet hue every time a bullet passed through them on the way to the enemy.
They aimed for the acolytes, because the soultakers weren’t bothered at all by something as annoying as bullets. Three of the magic users were cut down, but none of them were Rachel.
Where’s a fucking tank when you need one? Patrick thought a little frantically.
“I can shift and better protect you,” Jono said, stepping up beside him.
“Don’t even think about it,” Patrick snarled.
Patrick might have been reckless with his own life, but like hell was he risking anyone under his protection.
“Would you stop being so bloody stubborn? I can help you.”
“You can’t do anything against a god except die. I am actively trying to prevent that from happening right now!”
“Maybe I can’t,” Jono conceded. “But my patron can.”
Patrick’s finger let up on his trigger for a fraction of a second at that confession. He clamped it back down again, getting close to needing to reload.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Patrick ground out as the soultakers kept coming, mouth suddenly gone dry. “You didn’t think that bit of information was important for me to know before now?”
No fucking wonder why the London god pack had exiled Jono and why Estelle and Youssef didn’t want him around. Not every god pack had a patron these days. If the New York City god pack didn’t have one and Jono did? Agreement be damned, but Jono would be well within his right to take over the New York City god pack.
Why Jono hadn’t was a question for after they survived this fight.
The soultakers ran up against Nadine’s shield and started to tear through her magic right as Patrick’s rifle clicked empty. Patrick unclipped the strap from his tactical vest and thrust the weapon at Jono.
“Hold this and stay here,” he ordered.
Patrick conjured up half a dozen mageglobes, pouring his magic into the barrage spell twisting through each one. Nadine couldn’t hold her shields up forever against soultakers—no one could—and Patrick wasn’t about to let her magic get drained to the breaking point.
He cast his mageglobes at the soultakers, his magic passing harmlessly through Nadine’s shield. The second they were on the other side, two were immediately swallowed whole by the demons, and the rest detonated on Patrick’s silent, willed command.
The resulting explosion sent a couple of soultakers and sand flying through the air. What magic didn’t catch them off guard they ate. Patrick felt the metaphysical tearing in his soul like a heavy burn in chest.
It wasn’t enough to stop him from walking through Nadine’s shield, Jono’s frantic yell whipped away by the wind that barreled into him from the Atlantic.
His magic had carved out a bit of space to stand in, and Patrick planted his feet in the wet sand, staring over the demons at Hades. He didn’t reach for his dagger and instead pulled from his pocket the handful of Greek coins he’d left the apartment with that morning.
Lightning flashed directly overhead, illuminating the world in electric light. Thunder rolled across the beach and the waves lashing against the shore, drowning out the ear-piercing shrieks of the soultakers.
Hades’ smile disappeared when Patrick raised his clenched fists, the coins already glowing.
“Where did you get those?” Hades demanded.
“You should quit pissing off your family,” Patrick shot back.
The coins burned hot in his hand, and Patrick tossed them into the air. They hung suspended there for a moment, burning like miniature suns the soultakers couldn’t seem to face. The feel of heavenly magic was a sharp juxtaposition against the ugly burn of hell currently suffocating the beach.
Patrick thrust one arm up and sent the coins skyward like shooting stars returning to space. They disappeared into the low-hanging clouds, bright flashes of sheet lightning turning the gray sky white in areas. Patrick blinked colored spots out of his eyes and thought about what Skuld had said in the filth of Ginnungagap.
Payment for the dead.
He wasn’t dead, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in war except survival.
Patrick made a fist and yanked his arm down, as if he were pulling down the sky. His magic burned weakly through his soul as he focused on the command to strike.
The borrowed magic from gods in the coins, guided by his own weakened magic, returned to Earth in the form of lightning.
Powerful bolts crashed down onto the beach with ground-shaking power. Patrick squeezed his eyes shut, but that wasn’t enough to block out the searing brightness of the attack. Foreign power cascaded through his soul, tearing through scarred-over metaphysical channels that could no longer handle the overload.
Ozone burned hot in Patrick’s nose when he screamed, every strand of hair standing on end as the lightning storm decimated the beach around him. The borrowed power of gods cut through him, and he had to let it because it was the only way any of them were getting out of this mess alive.
With an ear-popping boom, thunder rolled over the beach, vibrating though his body. Patrick stumbled forward, the world coming back in stages, looking more like an old photograph negative than sharp reality. He looked down at where sand used to be and only saw twisted white glass formed out of a lightning strike.
Gone were the soultakers, either burned down to ash that rain washed away or dragged into a retreat by Hades and what was left of the Dominion Sect acolytes. The borrowed power of gods had been enough to drive them back and cauterize the rip in the veil. How long before Hades returned was anyone’s guess.
Patrick felt hollowed out, the world tilting badly. It took him a moment to realize it was him, not the horizon, as his legs gave out. He crashed to the ground, tasting blood, practically breathing it. His fingers skittered over hot glass, entire body shaking as he coughed.
Warm arms wrapped around his torso and hauled him upright. “Patrick!”
Jono’s voice sounded far away through the ringing in his ears. Patrick closed his eyes, the sound of thunder nearly drowning everything out as he slumped against Jono.
“Hades?” Patrick managed to say, tongue thick in his mouth and not working right.
“Gone.”
Pain threatened to rip open his chest, shock not enough to overcome it. Patrick reached for his magic and found a raw, gaping hole where it should have been in his damaged soul. He took a breath and let himself fall into darkness, somehow knowing Jono would catch him in the end.
14
Patrick went limp in Jono’s arms, and he tried not to panic. He could hear Patrick’s heart beating too fast for comfort, but the mage was alive. Blinking raindrops out of his eyes, Jono gathered Patrick into his arms and got to his feet.
Jono looked down at Patrick’s too-pale face, head lolling against his shoulder. His dark red hair was plastered to his skull, the water running down his cheeks looking like tears. He felt too cold to Jono’s heightened senses, and all Jono wanted to do right then was get Patrick somewhere safe.
Nadine ran across the blasted sand, and when she reached for Patrick, Jono couldn’t help but take a step back. He didn’t bother trying to choke back his growl.
She scowled. “Let me see him.”
“He’s cold. We need to get him out of the rain,” Jono argued.
“And I need to do a field check, so hold still.”
Jono allowed Nadine to do a brief check on Patrick, fighting against the instinct to find shelter. Emma and her pack were on high alert, keeping an eye on the damaged area of the beach they stood in. Leon had Tyler’s arm slung over his shoulder. The sorcerer looked absolutely exhausted, but he was standing on his own two feet. That was a far cry from Patrick’s condition.
Nadine pulled her hand away from Patrick, the violet glow at her fingertips fading away. “He’s suffering from magical burnout. We need to go to ground.”
“We can go to my apartment,” Marek said.
Jono unclenched his teeth, anger riding his voice. “We wouldn’t be in this bloody situation if you had just stayed home in the first place, Marek.”
Hazel eyes washed out to a bright white, Marek’s voice and eyes no longer his own. “Our vessel came here because we told him to. This had to happen. This is the only way.”
“What way?” Nadine demanded. “Why have us do this?”
Fate had no further answers to give.
Marek blinked his eyes, the white disappearing. He shook his head hard, mouth twisting in pain and self-recrimination. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”
Sage took his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s all right.”
Jono held his tongue, knowing his anger wouldn’t find the correct target right now. Skuld, or whichever of the Norns who controlled Marek’s sight, had their reasons for drawing them out here. Jono had never been at the mercy of gods the way Marek was, and Patrick seemed to be, but he had a feeling that would change.
“We need to go,” Nadine said.
“Where?” Jono asked.
Nadine ignored his question and went to retrieve Patrick’s rifle where Jono had dropped it in the sand. “The wolf pack needs to get out of here and stay out of sight.”
“The cops will need a statement,” Sage said.
“They aren’t getting one here.” Nadine slung Patrick’s rifle over her shoulder and jerked her head toward the stairs leading back to the property. “The seer can come with us.”
Emma and Leon shared a single glance before Leon raised his voice. “Let’s go. We’re heading home.”
Nadine headed up the stairs first, the way slippery. Jono was right behind her, Patrick deadweight in his arms. They passed through the destroyed backyard and entered the mansion. The werecreatures they’d left behind in the house earlier were no longer in half-shifted forms. Two were human while a third had fully shifted, the monstrous wolf growling at their approach from behind Nadine’s shield.
“Shift, and head home,” Emma snapped.
Nadine snapped her fingers, and the shields vanished. Jono followed her back outside into the rain. She immediately sprinted into a run and he easily kept up, holding Patrick tight in his arms. He could hear Emma, Marek, and Sage running behind him while everyone else started getting into the cars parked in the long driveway.
They ran for where they’d parked the SUV down the street. Jono could hear sirens off in the far distance, his enhanced hearing picking it up through the sound of the storm. “Cops.”
“Not my problem,” Nadine tossed over her shoulder.
Officer Lee and his partner had listened to Patrick’s order and stayed in position. The two men were still alive. Officer Lee tried to flag them down for an explanation, but Nadine shook her head as she pelted past.
“We’re leaving!” she yelled. “Do not follow us.”
When they reached the SUV, Nadine hauled open the side door, and Jono carefully climbed into the far back seat with Patrick in his arms. He let Sage and Marek have the two middle seats while Emma claimed the front passenger seat.
“There’s a field med-kit in the trunk,” Nadine said to Jono before closing the car door. She hurried to the driver’s side and got in, smacking her hand against the roof of the vehicle. Violet light flashed through the framework of the SUV.
Jono ignored everyone else in the car in favor of Patrick. He reached behind the back seat to the tiny trunk space and hauled over a gray rugged case with a red cross marked on it. He opened it and dug out an emergency foil blanket folded up inside a small plastic bag. Jono shoved it between his hip and the seat before he began stripping Patrick out of his soaked clothes. Patrick was cold in a way that Jono didn’t like. Getting him warm would require body heat, and Jono had plenty to spare.
He got Patrick stripped down to his underwear, long, pale legs stretched over Jono’s. His breath against Jono’s neck was cool in a way it shouldn’t be. Jono yanked off his own shirt and gathered Patrick close before tearing open the bag containing the emergency foil blanket. He shook it out over Patrick and tucked it around the both of them. He kept Patrick’s dagger within easy reach. In the time he’d known Patrick, Jono had never seen the mage without it.
Jono wasn’t paying anyone else any attention, too busy trying to rub warmth back into Patrick’s arms under the blanket, when the SUV was hit.
The crackling boom of the explosion poured hellfire around the shape of the vehicle as Nadine fought to keep control. Jono braced himself and Patrick to keep them both from falling off the back seat.
“What the fuck?” he snarled.
The brakes squealed as they rocked to a hard halt, hellfire dripping off the SUV as Nadine’s shield held strong against the attack.
“Shit,” Nadine said with feeling.
Jono held Patrick tighter, squinting through the windshield at the person who had appeared a little ways down the street in front of the SUV. The man looked to be about his age, tall and well-built, with black concentric circles tattooed into the palms of his hands that were thrust their way. Blond hair was shaved close to his skull, revealing more rune tattoos inked into his skin there. The hate in his brown eyes made Jono’s mouth curl.
“Who the fuck is that?” he demanded.
“Zachary Myers,” Nadine said.
The name meant nothing to Jono, but he didn’t like the stress he could hear in Nadine’s voice. “Is this Zachary bloke going to be a problem?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t you fight him?” Emma asked.
Nadine tightened her fingers around the steering wheel. “Maybe, but I don’t have a strong affinity for offensive magic. Patrick would have a better shot.”
“He’s unconscious,” Jono reminded her angrily. “He’s already saved our arses once today, so maybe now it’s your turn.”
Nadine opened her mouth to argue, but before she got a word out, something slammed into where the mage stood and exploded with all the fury of a sun going nova. Jono squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, bright spots burning across his vision. The violet glare of Nadine’s shield expanded outward from the frame of the SUV, rippling against the concussive force from the explosion.
“I definitely should’ve brought the grenade launcher,” Nadine said, sounding wistful.
Jono’s vision repaired itself in a few seconds. Blinking his eyes open, all he saw was a crater in the middle of the street where the magic user had stood, wispy fog twisting through the smoke.
“What was that?” Emma demanded.
“Military grade strike.”
“Is he dead?” Marek asked, knuckling one eye.
Nadine shook her head and drew the shield back into the SUV again. “If only. That fucker doesn’t die easily.”
“Then where is he?”
Jono could see Nadine’s eyes darting back and forth in the rearview mirror. “If there’s no body, then it could have been an illusion. Either way, I should’ve known Ethan would have left a rearguard. That’s my mistake. I’m sorry.”
She conjured up a mageglobe, the violet sphere flickering above the steering wheel. Jono wasn’t sure what spell she cast, but while he couldn’t see it, he could sense her magic. Nadine’s was cleaner than Patrick’s by far; stronger, too.
“Anything?” Emma asked in a tense voice.
“No. I can’t sense any magical threat in the vicinity,” Nadine said.
Jono tightened his arms around Patrick as a motorcycle roared up beside the SUV, its driver and passenger both clad in black Kevlar-lined leather clothes and helmets with reflective face covers. The woman had a grenade launcher resting on her shoulder, red runes carved into the metal body of the weapon. Jono figured it wasn’t a standard-issued kind of weapon.
Nadine hit a button to roll down her window a little bit. “I think we’re in the clear, but keep an eye out. We’ll follow you.”
The driver nodded his head, the helmet bobbing up and down, before the motorcycle tore off again. Nadine slammed her foot down on the gas pedal and maneuvered the SUV around the crater.
“Are we taking Patrick to a hospital?” Marek asked.
“We can’t risk it.”
“Then I’ll call Victoria to help him. She’s a healer. Just tell me where she should meet us.”
“Ginnungagap.”
“Are you serious?” Jono growled.
Nadine glanced back at him in the rearview mirror. “You got a better idea?”
He didn’t.
The drive back to Manhattan was taken up by Jono’s worry for Patrick. Despite the foil blanket retaining his body heat to share it with Patrick, the younger man’s skin was still cool to the touch. Jono didn’t know anything about magical burnout, but he knew shock was never a good thing for the body. Jono listened to Patrick breathe, but he never woke up. He tucked Patrick’s head under his chin, flattening a hand over the scars on his chest.
Please, Jono thought. Please be all right.
By the time they finally pulled down the small alley next to Ginnungagap, Jono was desperate to get Patrick the care he so obviously needed.
Sage hauled open the side door, still dressed in her bikini from the beach. She looked out of place, but the people walking by on the sidewalk at the mouth of the alleyway ignored them.
“Look-away ward,” Nadine explained as she got out of the SUV. “No one will pay us any attention. Let’s get Patrick inside.”
The rain was still coming down, but Nadine cast a shield over Jono as he got out with Patrick in his arms, the dagger in its sheath dangling from one hand. Water sloughed off the invisible barrier, a kindness he nodded silent thanks for.
“If not you, I’ll take the wolf. I’d rather not go to war with the Norse gods just yet, but needs must. Either way, I will take a soul with me to hell today,” Hades said.
The soultakers lunged forward, half the horde coming for Patrick while the rest went after the Tempest pack. Patrick repositioned his rifle against his shoulder and braced himself. He switched the M4A1 carbine over to fully automatic and held down the trigger. The loud release of bullets sounded like thunder in the air, echoed by Nadine’s weapon. Her shields glimmered with a faint violet hue every time a bullet passed through them on the way to the enemy.
They aimed for the acolytes, because the soultakers weren’t bothered at all by something as annoying as bullets. Three of the magic users were cut down, but none of them were Rachel.
Where’s a fucking tank when you need one? Patrick thought a little frantically.
“I can shift and better protect you,” Jono said, stepping up beside him.
“Don’t even think about it,” Patrick snarled.
Patrick might have been reckless with his own life, but like hell was he risking anyone under his protection.
“Would you stop being so bloody stubborn? I can help you.”
“You can’t do anything against a god except die. I am actively trying to prevent that from happening right now!”
“Maybe I can’t,” Jono conceded. “But my patron can.”
Patrick’s finger let up on his trigger for a fraction of a second at that confession. He clamped it back down again, getting close to needing to reload.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Patrick ground out as the soultakers kept coming, mouth suddenly gone dry. “You didn’t think that bit of information was important for me to know before now?”
No fucking wonder why the London god pack had exiled Jono and why Estelle and Youssef didn’t want him around. Not every god pack had a patron these days. If the New York City god pack didn’t have one and Jono did? Agreement be damned, but Jono would be well within his right to take over the New York City god pack.
Why Jono hadn’t was a question for after they survived this fight.
The soultakers ran up against Nadine’s shield and started to tear through her magic right as Patrick’s rifle clicked empty. Patrick unclipped the strap from his tactical vest and thrust the weapon at Jono.
“Hold this and stay here,” he ordered.
Patrick conjured up half a dozen mageglobes, pouring his magic into the barrage spell twisting through each one. Nadine couldn’t hold her shields up forever against soultakers—no one could—and Patrick wasn’t about to let her magic get drained to the breaking point.
He cast his mageglobes at the soultakers, his magic passing harmlessly through Nadine’s shield. The second they were on the other side, two were immediately swallowed whole by the demons, and the rest detonated on Patrick’s silent, willed command.
The resulting explosion sent a couple of soultakers and sand flying through the air. What magic didn’t catch them off guard they ate. Patrick felt the metaphysical tearing in his soul like a heavy burn in chest.
It wasn’t enough to stop him from walking through Nadine’s shield, Jono’s frantic yell whipped away by the wind that barreled into him from the Atlantic.
His magic had carved out a bit of space to stand in, and Patrick planted his feet in the wet sand, staring over the demons at Hades. He didn’t reach for his dagger and instead pulled from his pocket the handful of Greek coins he’d left the apartment with that morning.
Lightning flashed directly overhead, illuminating the world in electric light. Thunder rolled across the beach and the waves lashing against the shore, drowning out the ear-piercing shrieks of the soultakers.
Hades’ smile disappeared when Patrick raised his clenched fists, the coins already glowing.
“Where did you get those?” Hades demanded.
“You should quit pissing off your family,” Patrick shot back.
The coins burned hot in his hand, and Patrick tossed them into the air. They hung suspended there for a moment, burning like miniature suns the soultakers couldn’t seem to face. The feel of heavenly magic was a sharp juxtaposition against the ugly burn of hell currently suffocating the beach.
Patrick thrust one arm up and sent the coins skyward like shooting stars returning to space. They disappeared into the low-hanging clouds, bright flashes of sheet lightning turning the gray sky white in areas. Patrick blinked colored spots out of his eyes and thought about what Skuld had said in the filth of Ginnungagap.
Payment for the dead.
He wasn’t dead, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered in war except survival.
Patrick made a fist and yanked his arm down, as if he were pulling down the sky. His magic burned weakly through his soul as he focused on the command to strike.
The borrowed magic from gods in the coins, guided by his own weakened magic, returned to Earth in the form of lightning.
Powerful bolts crashed down onto the beach with ground-shaking power. Patrick squeezed his eyes shut, but that wasn’t enough to block out the searing brightness of the attack. Foreign power cascaded through his soul, tearing through scarred-over metaphysical channels that could no longer handle the overload.
Ozone burned hot in Patrick’s nose when he screamed, every strand of hair standing on end as the lightning storm decimated the beach around him. The borrowed power of gods cut through him, and he had to let it because it was the only way any of them were getting out of this mess alive.
With an ear-popping boom, thunder rolled over the beach, vibrating though his body. Patrick stumbled forward, the world coming back in stages, looking more like an old photograph negative than sharp reality. He looked down at where sand used to be and only saw twisted white glass formed out of a lightning strike.
Gone were the soultakers, either burned down to ash that rain washed away or dragged into a retreat by Hades and what was left of the Dominion Sect acolytes. The borrowed power of gods had been enough to drive them back and cauterize the rip in the veil. How long before Hades returned was anyone’s guess.
Patrick felt hollowed out, the world tilting badly. It took him a moment to realize it was him, not the horizon, as his legs gave out. He crashed to the ground, tasting blood, practically breathing it. His fingers skittered over hot glass, entire body shaking as he coughed.
Warm arms wrapped around his torso and hauled him upright. “Patrick!”
Jono’s voice sounded far away through the ringing in his ears. Patrick closed his eyes, the sound of thunder nearly drowning everything out as he slumped against Jono.
“Hades?” Patrick managed to say, tongue thick in his mouth and not working right.
“Gone.”
Pain threatened to rip open his chest, shock not enough to overcome it. Patrick reached for his magic and found a raw, gaping hole where it should have been in his damaged soul. He took a breath and let himself fall into darkness, somehow knowing Jono would catch him in the end.
14
Patrick went limp in Jono’s arms, and he tried not to panic. He could hear Patrick’s heart beating too fast for comfort, but the mage was alive. Blinking raindrops out of his eyes, Jono gathered Patrick into his arms and got to his feet.
Jono looked down at Patrick’s too-pale face, head lolling against his shoulder. His dark red hair was plastered to his skull, the water running down his cheeks looking like tears. He felt too cold to Jono’s heightened senses, and all Jono wanted to do right then was get Patrick somewhere safe.
Nadine ran across the blasted sand, and when she reached for Patrick, Jono couldn’t help but take a step back. He didn’t bother trying to choke back his growl.
She scowled. “Let me see him.”
“He’s cold. We need to get him out of the rain,” Jono argued.
“And I need to do a field check, so hold still.”
Jono allowed Nadine to do a brief check on Patrick, fighting against the instinct to find shelter. Emma and her pack were on high alert, keeping an eye on the damaged area of the beach they stood in. Leon had Tyler’s arm slung over his shoulder. The sorcerer looked absolutely exhausted, but he was standing on his own two feet. That was a far cry from Patrick’s condition.
Nadine pulled her hand away from Patrick, the violet glow at her fingertips fading away. “He’s suffering from magical burnout. We need to go to ground.”
“We can go to my apartment,” Marek said.
Jono unclenched his teeth, anger riding his voice. “We wouldn’t be in this bloody situation if you had just stayed home in the first place, Marek.”
Hazel eyes washed out to a bright white, Marek’s voice and eyes no longer his own. “Our vessel came here because we told him to. This had to happen. This is the only way.”
“What way?” Nadine demanded. “Why have us do this?”
Fate had no further answers to give.
Marek blinked his eyes, the white disappearing. He shook his head hard, mouth twisting in pain and self-recrimination. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”
Sage took his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. “It’s all right.”
Jono held his tongue, knowing his anger wouldn’t find the correct target right now. Skuld, or whichever of the Norns who controlled Marek’s sight, had their reasons for drawing them out here. Jono had never been at the mercy of gods the way Marek was, and Patrick seemed to be, but he had a feeling that would change.
“We need to go,” Nadine said.
“Where?” Jono asked.
Nadine ignored his question and went to retrieve Patrick’s rifle where Jono had dropped it in the sand. “The wolf pack needs to get out of here and stay out of sight.”
“The cops will need a statement,” Sage said.
“They aren’t getting one here.” Nadine slung Patrick’s rifle over her shoulder and jerked her head toward the stairs leading back to the property. “The seer can come with us.”
Emma and Leon shared a single glance before Leon raised his voice. “Let’s go. We’re heading home.”
Nadine headed up the stairs first, the way slippery. Jono was right behind her, Patrick deadweight in his arms. They passed through the destroyed backyard and entered the mansion. The werecreatures they’d left behind in the house earlier were no longer in half-shifted forms. Two were human while a third had fully shifted, the monstrous wolf growling at their approach from behind Nadine’s shield.
“Shift, and head home,” Emma snapped.
Nadine snapped her fingers, and the shields vanished. Jono followed her back outside into the rain. She immediately sprinted into a run and he easily kept up, holding Patrick tight in his arms. He could hear Emma, Marek, and Sage running behind him while everyone else started getting into the cars parked in the long driveway.
They ran for where they’d parked the SUV down the street. Jono could hear sirens off in the far distance, his enhanced hearing picking it up through the sound of the storm. “Cops.”
“Not my problem,” Nadine tossed over her shoulder.
Officer Lee and his partner had listened to Patrick’s order and stayed in position. The two men were still alive. Officer Lee tried to flag them down for an explanation, but Nadine shook her head as she pelted past.
“We’re leaving!” she yelled. “Do not follow us.”
When they reached the SUV, Nadine hauled open the side door, and Jono carefully climbed into the far back seat with Patrick in his arms. He let Sage and Marek have the two middle seats while Emma claimed the front passenger seat.
“There’s a field med-kit in the trunk,” Nadine said to Jono before closing the car door. She hurried to the driver’s side and got in, smacking her hand against the roof of the vehicle. Violet light flashed through the framework of the SUV.
Jono ignored everyone else in the car in favor of Patrick. He reached behind the back seat to the tiny trunk space and hauled over a gray rugged case with a red cross marked on it. He opened it and dug out an emergency foil blanket folded up inside a small plastic bag. Jono shoved it between his hip and the seat before he began stripping Patrick out of his soaked clothes. Patrick was cold in a way that Jono didn’t like. Getting him warm would require body heat, and Jono had plenty to spare.
He got Patrick stripped down to his underwear, long, pale legs stretched over Jono’s. His breath against Jono’s neck was cool in a way it shouldn’t be. Jono yanked off his own shirt and gathered Patrick close before tearing open the bag containing the emergency foil blanket. He shook it out over Patrick and tucked it around the both of them. He kept Patrick’s dagger within easy reach. In the time he’d known Patrick, Jono had never seen the mage without it.
Jono wasn’t paying anyone else any attention, too busy trying to rub warmth back into Patrick’s arms under the blanket, when the SUV was hit.
The crackling boom of the explosion poured hellfire around the shape of the vehicle as Nadine fought to keep control. Jono braced himself and Patrick to keep them both from falling off the back seat.
“What the fuck?” he snarled.
The brakes squealed as they rocked to a hard halt, hellfire dripping off the SUV as Nadine’s shield held strong against the attack.
“Shit,” Nadine said with feeling.
Jono held Patrick tighter, squinting through the windshield at the person who had appeared a little ways down the street in front of the SUV. The man looked to be about his age, tall and well-built, with black concentric circles tattooed into the palms of his hands that were thrust their way. Blond hair was shaved close to his skull, revealing more rune tattoos inked into his skin there. The hate in his brown eyes made Jono’s mouth curl.
“Who the fuck is that?” he demanded.
“Zachary Myers,” Nadine said.
The name meant nothing to Jono, but he didn’t like the stress he could hear in Nadine’s voice. “Is this Zachary bloke going to be a problem?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t you fight him?” Emma asked.
Nadine tightened her fingers around the steering wheel. “Maybe, but I don’t have a strong affinity for offensive magic. Patrick would have a better shot.”
“He’s unconscious,” Jono reminded her angrily. “He’s already saved our arses once today, so maybe now it’s your turn.”
Nadine opened her mouth to argue, but before she got a word out, something slammed into where the mage stood and exploded with all the fury of a sun going nova. Jono squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, bright spots burning across his vision. The violet glare of Nadine’s shield expanded outward from the frame of the SUV, rippling against the concussive force from the explosion.
“I definitely should’ve brought the grenade launcher,” Nadine said, sounding wistful.
Jono’s vision repaired itself in a few seconds. Blinking his eyes open, all he saw was a crater in the middle of the street where the magic user had stood, wispy fog twisting through the smoke.
“What was that?” Emma demanded.
“Military grade strike.”
“Is he dead?” Marek asked, knuckling one eye.
Nadine shook her head and drew the shield back into the SUV again. “If only. That fucker doesn’t die easily.”
“Then where is he?”
Jono could see Nadine’s eyes darting back and forth in the rearview mirror. “If there’s no body, then it could have been an illusion. Either way, I should’ve known Ethan would have left a rearguard. That’s my mistake. I’m sorry.”
She conjured up a mageglobe, the violet sphere flickering above the steering wheel. Jono wasn’t sure what spell she cast, but while he couldn’t see it, he could sense her magic. Nadine’s was cleaner than Patrick’s by far; stronger, too.
“Anything?” Emma asked in a tense voice.
“No. I can’t sense any magical threat in the vicinity,” Nadine said.
Jono tightened his arms around Patrick as a motorcycle roared up beside the SUV, its driver and passenger both clad in black Kevlar-lined leather clothes and helmets with reflective face covers. The woman had a grenade launcher resting on her shoulder, red runes carved into the metal body of the weapon. Jono figured it wasn’t a standard-issued kind of weapon.
Nadine hit a button to roll down her window a little bit. “I think we’re in the clear, but keep an eye out. We’ll follow you.”
The driver nodded his head, the helmet bobbing up and down, before the motorcycle tore off again. Nadine slammed her foot down on the gas pedal and maneuvered the SUV around the crater.
“Are we taking Patrick to a hospital?” Marek asked.
“We can’t risk it.”
“Then I’ll call Victoria to help him. She’s a healer. Just tell me where she should meet us.”
“Ginnungagap.”
“Are you serious?” Jono growled.
Nadine glanced back at him in the rearview mirror. “You got a better idea?”
He didn’t.
The drive back to Manhattan was taken up by Jono’s worry for Patrick. Despite the foil blanket retaining his body heat to share it with Patrick, the younger man’s skin was still cool to the touch. Jono didn’t know anything about magical burnout, but he knew shock was never a good thing for the body. Jono listened to Patrick breathe, but he never woke up. He tucked Patrick’s head under his chin, flattening a hand over the scars on his chest.
Please, Jono thought. Please be all right.
By the time they finally pulled down the small alley next to Ginnungagap, Jono was desperate to get Patrick the care he so obviously needed.
Sage hauled open the side door, still dressed in her bikini from the beach. She looked out of place, but the people walking by on the sidewalk at the mouth of the alleyway ignored them.
“Look-away ward,” Nadine explained as she got out of the SUV. “No one will pay us any attention. Let’s get Patrick inside.”
The rain was still coming down, but Nadine cast a shield over Jono as he got out with Patrick in his arms, the dagger in its sheath dangling from one hand. Water sloughed off the invisible barrier, a kindness he nodded silent thanks for.
