Jonathan was his name. Well, currently. He was called Jonathan, and he was here in this city looking for his errant whelp, who had dared to besmirch him. Who had dared to harm him and been foolish enough not to finish the job.

Wind ripped around him, whipping through the coat he didn’t truly need and giving him a sensation of cold that was bracing and not entirely uncomfortable. If he breathed, the cold might hurt his lungs. But it was far from cold enough to be a truly ...