A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,59
golden eye with its reptilian pupil blinked at him before snorting out a disdainful puff of smoke and fire that charred the brown grass in front of Patrick’s feet.
The fog started to dissipate beyond where Wade was crouched over Patrick. He tightened his shields and stepped around the dragon leg in his way, shoving his hand against Wade’s scaly head to get eyes on the enemy.
The cemetery was empty where they had been.
The absence of Hannah and Zachary left Patrick feeling sick to his stomach rather than relieved. His gaze swept the cemetery, seeing a multitude of wolf eyes reflecting back at him, none of which were the color of a god pack.
“All of you need to get out of here. I’ll make sure the police know none of you were present,” Patrick said, not bothering to raise his voice. The werecreatures could hear him just fine.
The werecreatures slinked off into the darkness as silently as they’d arrived. Patrick would figure out later what territory he and Wade had ended up in and apologize for ruining the pack’s Friday night.
“Wade, shift back to human.”
Patrick cast a look-away ward with cold fingers, aiming it toward the damaged cemetery fence. He couldn’t outright hide Wade since magic didn’t work on the teenager, but he could keep the first responders distracted while he dealt with the remaining Dominion Sect mercenaries.
He approached where the mercenaries were sprawled on the cold, wet ground. Two of them were burned beyond recognition, their magic not enough to withstand a fire dragon’s rage. The third one whose legs Patrick had partially blown off had already bled out, the lingering stain of Zachary’s blood magic seeping into the body.
Patrick knelt beside the dead and stared at the bodies for a long moment. Then he pulled out his cell phone with a shaking hand and called Jono. When the line picked up, he didn’t even wait for a hello.
“I need you in Chicago.”
11
“Usually it’s your other half who makes my life difficult,” Chief of the NYPD’s Preternatural Crimes Bureau Giovanni Casale said.
Jono eyed the folder Casale tossed onto the table in Interrogation Room One. “He’s a bit busy.”
Neither Jono nor Patrick had confirmed their relationship with Casale. They weren’t obligated to, but Jono knew their privacy was bound to be challenged sooner rather than later now that he was actively laying claim to New York City. He wasn’t surprised Casale had picked up on their relationship though. The man was a cop, after all.
Casale took a seat with a grunt. “I hear we have hunters in the city.”
“What makes you say that?”
Casale flipped open the folder, revealing a crime scene photo of a body that looked like it had been crunched into the sidewalk. Jono didn’t flinch away from the bloody, destroyed mess the man had been reduced to.
“I don’t like finding out about an active group of the Krossed Knights hunting in my city after the fact. A heads-up would’ve been nice,” Casale said, staring at him.
“I don’t know what you’re on about. Didn’t think hunters rated your direct interference,” Jono replied.
Casale raised a thick black eyebrow. “It’s not a serial killer like last summer, but these assholes tend to start wars between preternatural communities. Happened during my rookie year as a cop. It was a fucked-up time, and the homicide count made it into triple digits. Those deaths were the only ones we knew of, but there were plenty more I’m sure we never learned about. I don’t want a repeat of history.”
Jono didn’t blink. “What makes you think that will happen?”
“I have one dead hunter and more blood that was at the scene than came from a single body.” Casale leaned back in his seat and eyed Jono. “Word on the street is you’re looking to challenge Estelle and Youssef for the New York City god pack.”
“I don’t hold with gossip.”
“I think it’s less gossip and more truth these days. Those two have been trouble since they took over the pack some years back. I never could figure out why they let you stay.”
Jono shrugged. “I had a good negotiator.”
“One with good eyes,” Casale drawled.
They both knew he was talking about Marek, but Jono didn’t say his friend’s name. “I’m not familiar with the Krossed Knights. They aren’t in England.”
“I’d be surprised if you were. They come out of our south. You still have hunters where you come from though. Messy business no matter the country.”