A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,43
from rolling his eyes, but just barely. He was halfway finished with the medicine Victoria had given him, which she knew. “Yes, mum.”
“Hilarious. Get in the car.”
Jono got into the front passenger seat, clenching his teeth against the dull throb in his ribs. The potions were doing their job; he just wished they’d work faster. Jono felt better, but the wound was only halfway healed, though the flulike symptoms had mostly abated. He felt weaker than usual, a fact he knew Lucien would exploit if the master vampire found out.
His only recourse would be Fenrir, and while Lucien knew about his animal-god patron, Jono didn’t want to give over his body to the immortal in a fight with the vampire. Fenrir might opt to murder the arsehole, and that would make a mess of the Night Courts in New York City.
If Patrick came home to the vampires at war with them, Jono really would be sleeping on the sofa.
Emma and Leon followed them to Ginnungagap, refusing to let any car merge between them. They crossed through several known pack territories, none of them friendly, but didn’t stop. The borders that touched up against Lucien’s surrounding Ginnungagap were always fluctuating and continually growing in Lucien’s favor as his Night Court kept making bloody excursions into pack territory.
The warehouse-turned-club in the Meatpacking District was popular these days with a younger crowd who enjoyed taking a walk on the dark side. Finding street parking, even on a Thursday night, was a crapshoot. The alleyway between the warehouse and the next building doubled as parking in a pinch, and that’s where Sage steered them. The Mustang’s headlights flashed over a familiar motorcycle before they went out.
“Do you want my pendant again?” Sage asked, one finger hooked over the platinum chain.
Jono shook his head. “I can’t hide here.”
Sage only nodded and didn’t question his decision. They both got out of the car, the sound of the doors closing echoing in the cold air.
Emma tucked her hands into her puffer coat, her thick hair tied back in a loose fishtail braid. “This place always gives me the creeps.”
“Let’s get inside,” Jono said.
They walked toward the mouth of the alleyway and turned onto the block, passing the queue of people waiting to get into Ginnungagap. Despite the chilly night, most everyone was in club clothes. Jono remembered how that was, queuing up for the clubs back in London that would actually let him inside. With his eyes, it was impossible to hide what he was, and he’d had too many doors over the years slam shut in his face.
The ones to Ginnungagap opened for them, the human servant manning the entrance well aware of who they were and that they were expected.
“VIP section,” the man told them in a low voice. “Our master is waiting.”
Jono ignored the quiet grumblings from those in the queue who were pissed he and his friends were allowed entry without being dressed smart. Jono squared his shoulders and steeled himself to step into the club.
What lived inside the walls of Ginnungagap hadn’t changed since the first time Jono had stepped foot in it. Whatever power resided here always made his skin crawl whenever he crossed the threshold. The noise of the club that had sounded muffled on the pavement was loud enough now to make his ears ring until he dialed down his hearing.
They came into the security foyer where human servants handled payment for the cover charge and the checking of any holy items behind a warded and bulletproof window. Jono shook his head, distracted by the unceasing, rumbling growl Fenrir was giving off in his mind. It didn’t feel like a warning, but a welcoming, and Jono didn’t like that at all.
“I should be at the office,” Sage said as they bypassed security and entered the club proper.
“You could’ve stayed and kept working on your motion,” Jono said easily enough.
“And let you argue your way through a bargain alone? Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m thrilled you trust me so deeply.”
Sage rolled her eyes, the only visual cue of her annoyance as the flashing lights from the club skimmed over her face. “I trust you. I don’t trust Lucien.”
“Makes all of us,” Leon agreed.
Jono nodded toward the stairs at the rear of the club that led to the VIP mezzanine level. “Let’s get this over with.”
Getting through the crowd of dancing, drinking clubgoers took a couple of minutes. Not everyone was human, and the multiple scents that assailed Jono’s nose made him grimace.