A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,31
Victoria and handed her several hundred dollars in cash from his wallet. “Thanks for coming by this morning. Do you need a ride home?”
Victoria held up her mobile. “I’ll catch an Uber.”
“Charge it to me.”
“Later. I’m going to sleep when I get home.”
Victoria pulled on her puffy coat and waved goodbye before leaving the flat. Jono glanced down at his chest and grimaced at the red and black lines branching away from the bandaged knife wound. At least he was no longer bleeding, but he still felt like shit.
“When Patrick finds out we kept from him the fact you were nearly killed, he’s going to be pissed at all of us,” Sage said in a low voice.
“Then don’t let him find out until he’s home,” Jono said stubbornly.
Sage glared at him, hands on her hips, the scowl on her face clearly showing her displeasure. Jono pushed himself into a more upright position on the sofa, the ache on the right side of his body making him clench his teeth. The pain burrowing into his muscles had faded some with the help of Victoria’s potions, but Jono wasn’t used to feeling so weak. The werevirus meant pain was an afterthought most days. Having to deal with it was annoying.
Sage spun on her heels and stalked over to the dining room table where she’d left her leather Louis Vuitton tote bag. “I’m going to work. Let me know if you come to your senses.”
Jono knew she wouldn’t tell Patrick because he’d given her that order before she even answered Patrick’s first call last night. He didn’t want Sage angry at him, but neither did he want Patrick in the wrong frame of mind while working an out-of-state case.
Sage left the flat, the front door shutting firmly behind her. Jono winced, almost wishing she’d slammed it. He’d always admired her furious control, just not when her icy temper was directed at him.
“Should you be moving?” Leon asked as he came out of the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee and one with a tea bag string dangling over the side.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Jono replied.
“It was decided, while you were puking your guts out all night, that Emma and I will be crashing in your guest room until the threat passes.” Leon set the mugs down on the coffee table, a serious expression on his face. “Sage gave that order. I listen to my god pack’s dire.”
“But not your alpha?”
“Not when you’re being stupid,” Emma retorted, coming out of the kitchen with her own cup of coffee in hand. “Leon and I can telecommute for the rest of the week. We’ll take our meetings through videoconferencing.”
“Patrick warded the flat,” Jono reminded them.
“Patrick isn’t here. We—”
Emma broke off and immediately looked at the front door, as did Leon, and their expressions told Jono he wasn’t going to like what had pissed them off.
“Who is it?” Marek asked.
Before either could answer, the front door was thrown open and Sage strode back inside. The faint flush to her cheeks was partly from anger and partly from the sexual desire that seemed to pour off Carmen like bad perfume.
Emma immediately put herself between the succubus and Jono. Leon joined her in guarding where Jono sat on the sofa while Sage stood between Carmen and Marek. Jono stayed where he was, wishing he’d thought to put his shirt back on after Victoria had left so his wound was hidden.
Carmen leaned against the doorjamb, her long, curly black hair falling loose to her waist. She smiled at Jono, and the stink of her power filtering into the flat grew stronger, making Jono growl.
“Down, boy,” Carmen purred.
“Carmen,” Jono ground out.
She sauntered inside on high-heeled boots, the leather pants she wore paired with an oversized red sweater. It almost matched the color of her irises when she dropped her glamour, the horns of her kind spiraling back over her skull. The scent of desire thickened in the air, and Jono thought about reaching for the ward carved underneath the coffee table. Patrick had hidden several such wards throughout the apartment, the embedded magic in them capable of being triggered by a non-magic user.
He stayed his hand.
Behind Carmen, a slim woman stepped onto the landing. Naheed blinked lazily, taking in the room at large, but she stayed put. Lucien’s favorite human servant doubled as Carmen’s bodyguard during the day, along with a few others. The weather outside was cold, but she’d foregone a scarf, putting on display the necklace of bite