A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,126

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. “Her name is Marissa. She’s from Miami. She’s an independent-ranked werecreature who is looking for permission to stay and for protection.”

“She’ll have it,” Jono promised.

“It’s not yours to give,” Estelle bit out. The hunters who had come with her spread out a little, and Jono tracked their movements.

“Did you miss the part where we’re the New York City god pack and not you?” Patrick shot back.

Before Estelle could respond, the loud revving of motorcycle engines filled the air, the noise familiar from their time in Chicago. Jono wasn’t the only one who looked down the street at the convoy of motorcycles turning the corner onto Avenue B.

Brynhildr led the way on her Harley Davidson, Eir seated behind her and wearing her cat-eared helmet. Jono relaxed a little as some of the valkyries illegally crossed the meridian to bypass the double-parked vehicles, boxing in Estelle and the hunters. Estelle’s shoulders stiffened as her head moved from side to side, taking in the threat the valkyries presented. The hunters drew back, stepping closer to each other. Jono took a deep breath, curious at how the scent of sulfur seemed to diminish.

Brynhildr revved her motorcycle’s engine and drove right toward Estelle’s door, forcing her to scramble out of the way. Brynhildr took her time driving between Marek’s Maserati and the car in front of him to jump the curb and park on the sidewalk. She killed the engine but didn’t bother with the kickstand.

Brynhildr pulled her helmet off, shaking free her long blonde hair. Behind her, Eir did the same, climbing off Dynfari with a smooth motion.

“Long way from Chicago,” Jono said by way of a greeting.

“We’re in New York to get Eir another ride,” Brynhildr said, smirking a little. “And to bring you a gift.”

“Uh,” Patrick said, probably thinking of how not to accept it, because Jono was as well.

Brynhildr laughed. “Freely given. No strings attached.”

Jono looked in the direction she nodded and saw Skuld approaching. The red-haired valkyrie carried a crate of mead wider than she was, but she didn’t seem bothered by the weight of it.

“We heard you served good beer, but were missing something from your menu,” Skuld said with a wink.

“What is it?” Emma asked curiously.

“Mead.”

“Do you sell it through wholesalers?”

“No. You’d purchase it direct from the brewery if you like it.”

“Please don’t like it,” Patrick muttered.

Emma ignored him and waved Skuld toward the entrance to the bar. “Come inside so I can take a look and have a taste.”

The rest of the valkyries were parking their motorcycles on the sidewalk since no street parking was available near the bar. Jono hoped whatever glamour surrounded the pegasi was enough to keep them hidden from traffic enforcement agents and anyone else walking down the street.

Brynhildr gave Dynfari one last pat on the handlebar before dismounting. She stood beside her ride and stared at Estelle and the hunter in charge, a hint of ozone drifting through the air. Jono