“Killing Ethan won’t be enough,” Patrick said.
Nadine pressed her hand against her shield, glancing back at him. “What do you mean?”
Patrick watched Muninn and Huginn launch themselves back into the air. “It’s like the Hydra. Cut off one head, two more take its place.”
Ethan’s death would be meaningless if what supported his efforts wasn’t cut down with him. Killing the memory of what Ethan had built was the only way to win, but Patrick didn’t have the power to do that.
Only the gods did.
“We’ll figure out a game plan later. I’m not the only one the joint task force is sending out here.” Nadine pointed at the hunters and Dominion Sect magic users currently contained under one of her shields and surrounded by snarling werecreatures. “I’ll handle those bastards. Go check on Jono.”
Nadine lowered the shield surrounding them and started down the street. Mageglobes flickered into existence around her before streaking away toward the handful of conscious Dominion Sect magic users who needed to be contained.
Patrick left her to handle that problem. He kept his dagger and a mageglobe at the ready as he returned to the sidewalk, letting out a quick, heavy sigh of relief when he got eyes on Jono. Santa Muerte had thankfully not doubled back, though Shiva hadn’t disappeared how Patrick thought the god would in the face of mortal attention.
“This was not the only incursion,” Shiva said as Patrick approached.
“I know. Lucien said Ashanti was holding off jaguar constructs over at Ginnungagap. I’m guessing Tezcatlipoca hit that location while Santa Muerte came here for a two-pronged attack,” Patrick replied.
The god stroked the snake coiled about his shoulders, third eye barely open as he looked at Patrick. “I will check on our cousin.”
Shiva stepped backward through the veil and disappeared as only a god could. Jono shifted back to human in a churning motion of breaking bone and blood-spattered skin. His clothes were a lost cause, having been ripped to bits during the initial shift. At least they were close to their apartment and he’d be able to easily replace them.
“Are you all right?” Jono asked, stepping close to settle his hands on Patrick’s shoulders.
Patrick swallowed, shields down, not knowing what Jono was getting off his scent but not really caring either. “Zachary used Ethan’s blood to get through my magic. I think that means they still want me alive.”
Jono’s mouth twisted with worry. “They can’t have you.”
Patrick wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to stay one step ahead of Ethan when they kept circling each other like sharks in the lead up to Samhain. “We need to go back to Salem.”
“Why?”
Patrick flexed his fingers around the hilt of his dagger, Zachary’s words leaving him a little nauseous. “I think something’s happened to Eloise.”
Jono’s grip tightened hard enough to bruise before he pressed a dry kiss to Patrick’s forehead. “We’ll drive up as soon as we can.”
Patrick gazed out over the ruined street, hellfire still burning behind Nadine’s shields, wondering if New York City would end up like Cairo during the Thirty-Day War after all.
13
“This isn’t going to play well in the press, not after the summer we’ve had,” Casale said as he squinted down the street at the hellfire that wasn’t yet completely put out.
Jono scowled, attention on where Patrick stood as he coordinated the cleanup with Nadine and a handful of other SOA agents. Their street was teeming with police officers, federal agents, and firefighters despite the hour turning past midnight from Saturday night to Sunday morning. Several of the buildings had been evacuated while the hellfire bomb was taken care of, with the Red Cross handling their displacement for the night.
Packs that had come to their aid earlier had been sent home by Jono once their statements were taken by the police and SOA under strict anonymity. Before all of that, Jono had dodged back inside their flat after the scene was initially secured in order to grab a change of clothes. Chatting with police while naked was never something he liked doing.
“This isn’t our fault,” Jono said.
Casale pursed his lips. “I’m not saying it is. The pair of you were targets. I have multiple eyewitnesses who will attest to that, including several reporters. But a street turning into a warzone is never going to shine a positive light on anyone.”
It was only going to get worse, whether Casale knew it or not. Their pack’s professional relationship with the PCB was strained, and the nascent one Jono had with Casale had been torn up back in August. But he didn’t have it in him to risk innocent people if a warning could help. Angelina and the covens might have been warned, but hard specifics hadn’t been shared because of government restrictions.
“Has the SOA kept you updated on what’s been going on with the Dominion Sect?” Jono asked.
“The NYPD as a whole received a level orange threat warning from that agency.”
Jono eyed what remained of the hellfire before turning his back on that mess. “Bit more than a threat now, if you ask me.”
“You and Collins have been at the dead center of every major preternatural or supernatural event or attack this city has dealt with since last summer, not to mention some other cities. Angelina said the covens are preparing as if they’re expecting a war. Tell me straight, Jono. What is coming at us?”
Jono scratched at an itch on his jaw as he turned away. “Your wife is right. We’re looking at war. Talk to the mayor. Tell him to set a curfew again. Things are going to get messy.”
He walked away from Casale because this mess wasn’t the only attack they needed to deal with. According to Patrick, the SOA was covering the attack here and the one at Ginnungagap. They didn’t have any information yet on what had occurred over there, and Jono knew they still needed to find out. Lucien was bound to be in a temper, which would put Patrick in a mood, and Jono wasn’t looking forward to that headache.
Patrick saw his approach and extricated himself from the other SOA agents to meet Jono halfway. Nadine came with him, casting a discreet silence ward that made Jono’s ears pop from the sudden quiet.
“Nadine said General Reed has recalled the Hellraisers and Spencer,” Patrick said.
“When do they arrive?” Jono asked.
“Hopefully soon. They’re all outside the country right now. My guess is transport is being arranged.”
“Paperwork is being pushed through,” Nadine confirmed. “They’re not the only ones coming back.”
Jono crossed his arms over his chest. “Is the government focusing the bulk of their support here or elsewhere now?”
Patrick looked down the street at the first responders doing their best to contain the damage, and Jono followed his gaze. “I think if Ethan isn’t going to use Manhattan and the surrounding boroughs as a sacrificial altar, it’s a damn good distraction from wherever he actually will.”
“Odds are high the fight happens here,” Nadine said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Jono glanced over his shoulder at the Mustang, having miraculously survived the fight unscathed by virtue of where it had been parked. “We should stop by Ginnungagap before heading to Salem.”
“Nadine?” Patrick asked.
“I’ll come with you. I’m of more use to you while dealing with Lucien than if I stay behind. This isn’t my purview,” she said.
She worked for the Preternatural Intelligence Agency and was stationed out of Paris. The PIA handled international problems, while the SOA laid claim to domestic ones. Jono wasn’t sure which agency had the best claim to whatever came from past the veil right now, but she’d retracted all her magic from the street once other magic users had arrived.
“We can drop you off wherever you need to be afterward,” Patrick said on the walk to the car.
“My luggage is probably sitting on a carousel in JFK. It had my service weapon in it.”
“It’ll hopefully still be there.”
“The lockbox is spelled to my fingerprints, so it’s as safe as it can be for right now. I just hate leaving things behind right now.”
“You’re a nice surprise though,” Jono said.
Nadine smiled tightly. “Getting picked up by a couple of gods and traveling through the veil was unexpected, but definitely quicker than sitting in traffic.”
“What was it like past the veil?” Patrick asked.
Nadine didn’t answer until they were in the car and on their way, her silence ward long since broken. “The veil is thin. Ragged. Like it’s being ripped apart from the other side layer by layer. I know it’s always thinner around this time of year and we get more incursions from other planes, but this seemed different. It felt different.”
Jono grimaced as he maneuvered the Mustang past the last police line a block and a half away from their home. “That’s what the gods warned us about.”
Everyone was quiet for a few more minutes as Jono kept to the speed limit on the drive away from their flat. The number of police cars in their general area was way more than usual, and he didn’t fancy getting pulled over for going a tad over the speed limit because the police were jumpy. He’d get out of any ticket with two federal agents in the car with him, but they didn’t need any further delay.
They were waiting at a red light when Nadine broke the silence. “I’m sorry about Setsuna.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jono saw Patrick stiffen in the front passenger seat. His hands curled into fists over his thighs, but Jono couldn’t get any scent off Patrick. His personal shields were locked down tighter than ever.
“They were aiming for me,” Patrick said.
“They are always aiming for you.”
“She shouldn’t have been collateral.”
“Everyone is collateral in some way to Ethan’s ego and greed. Even you. Don’t blame yourself for her death. You didn’t pull that trigger.”
Her voice was quiet, a kindness to her tone that didn’t make Patrick look as if he wanted to hit something. Patrick and Nadine had a past with shared experiences Jono would never live through. He only hoped she could give Patrick a sort of comfort that Jono didn’t have the background to give. Patrick could use all the support he could get right now.
“I know,” Patrick finally said as the light turned green.
Believing it would be another story. Jono had spent months trying to get Patrick to unlearn bad habits and recognize he wasn’t alone. What forward momentum they’d made in that area was quickly losing ground after the last couple of weeks.
Jono pressed down on the gas pedal. “Where are we meeting Lucien?”
Patrick slouched a little in his seat. “We aren’t. Carmen is the only one who remained on scene. The rest of the vampires scattered.”
“I bet that’s going to piss off the police.”
“She’s acting under her guise as the human owner of the club.”
“Is it the same alias as the one in London?”
“No. It’s a different one.”
Jono snorted. “She has more names than a bloody titled Catholic.”
“She is originally from Venice, remember?”
Whatever her mysterious background, he knew Carmen wouldn’t be pleased to see them. When they arrived, it took both Patrick’s SOA badge and Nadine’s PIA one to get Jono past the police manning the cordoned-off area. His eyes apparently made everyone jumpy tonight.
Jono winced at the acrid scent of hell still lingering on the air, despite the wind. It had been over a year since they’d fought Tezcatlipoca, but he still remembered what that god smelled like, the same way he’d known Santa Muerte. It wasn’t a coincidence those two immortals had attacked at the same time.
Patrick led the way down the cordoned-off street with Nadine by his side, and Jono stayed close to the pair. As they approached Ginnungagap, Jono could see the front door had been completely ripped off its frame and tossed into the street in pieces. A hole had been punched through the front-facing wall, the damage bigger than a human could pass through.
He didn’t miss the bodies covered in yellow tarp or the blood splatters all over the pavement.
“Fuck,” Patrick said under his breath.
“Mayor needs to set a bloody curfew,” Jono said.
“No shit.”
They flagged down the officer in charge of the scene, not a bloke any of them were familiar with. The officer was out of the PCB and seemed aware of who they were, at least.
“Is the SOA taking over?” the officer asked.
“It’s a possibility. Right now I want to make sure the Dominion Sect didn’t leave any surprises after the hit at my place,” Patrick said easily.
“Our magic users cleared the area.”
“Great. Any witnesses?”
“Plenty. We’ve taken statements and let most go home who weren’t wounded. The injured were sent off to various hospitals. The owner is still inside with a couple of workers.”
“Wonderful.”
It really wasn’t, in Jono’s opinion.
They headed through the damaged front entrance into Ginnungagap, bypassing the abandoned security checkpoint. The overhead lights were disturbingly bright compared to the last time they’d stopped by.
Chairs and tables had been overturned during the panic, but he didn’t see any bodies. The scent of fear was tacky in the back of his throat as he breathed. Police officers milled about, but the blokes weren’t interested in Jono’s little group. Patrick made a beeline to where Carmen sat, wrapped in her human glamour, at the ground-floor bar, legs crossed at the knee, manicured nails tapping hard against the counter while Naheed tidied up behind it.
Jono didn’t think he’d ever seen someone sip so murderously at a cocktail before.
“You’re late,” Carmen snapped once they were in earshot.
“We were busy getting attacked, just like you,” Patrick said, though he kept his voice low.
Carmen smiled thinly at him, eyes strangely blue in her face, while her hair was a dark brown, sleekly straight as opposed to her normal black curls. “We held off the attack, but not before attendees got taken out in the crossfire. What is it with humans panicking like fools?”
“We’ve always run from the monsters in the world.”
Carmen knocked back half her drink in one swallow before putting the delicate-looking glass on the counter with more care than Jono thought she’d give it. “Ward us.”
It was Nadine, not Patrick, who cast the silence ward, mageglobe tiny against her palm, fingers curled around it. Quiet settled over their area, and Jono half turned to keep an eye on everyone else around them so they wouldn’t be surprised if others approached. They’d had enough bad optics with keeping secrets over the summer. They didn’t need to give the police an excuse to be suspicious in a situation like this.
“We thought Tezcatlipoca was banished, along with Santa Muerte,” Carmen said.
“He was, as far as I know. But it’s almost Samhain, and Ethan is carving out the veil from the inside out. The gods and other immortals are coming out of the woodwork,” Patrick replied.
“We had some other Night Courts present tonight who didn’t believe gods were real.”
“Don’t they pray to Ashanti?” Jono asked.
Carmen shot him a vicious look. “They have always prayed, but belief in her is not the same as belief in others.”
“I bet they believe now,” Nadine drawled.
Carmen smiled, though it lacked humor. “Tezcatlipoca wasn’t expecting Ashanti to have returned. It would’ve been a different fight otherwise.”
Jono would’ve said that was a shame, but it wasn’t the political thing to voice. Sage would’ve been proud of him for holding his tongue.
“I wanted to make sure no one was dead,” Patrick said after a moment.
Carmen studied him for a handful of seconds. “Ashanti heard about Setsuna. She wants to see you.”
“Is she here?” Jono asked.
&n
bsp; “No. She went chasing after Tezcatlipoca before losing him in the veil. She’s home now, but she’ll come out to neutral territory to speak with you.”
Surprisingly, Patrick shook his head. “It’ll have to be tomorrow.”
Carmen’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
“Zachary knows I went to see Eloise. He says he saw her. I have to go and make sure she’s okay.”
Nadine looked at him in surprise. “I didn’t know you’d gone to visit her.”
Patrick grimaced, his jaw clenched tight. “I couldn’t keep ignoring her forever.”
“Might’ve been for the best,” Jono murmured.
Nadine shot him a sharp look, the question in her gaze easy enough to read. “Not friendly?”
“Friendly enough on the surface.”
“They worship Persephone,” Patrick said in a flat, emotionless voice.
Nadine jerked as if she’d been hit, brown eyes going wide. “They what?”
Carmen reached for her drink again. “Setsuna always did warn you about them.”
“Don’t talk about her,” Patrick ground out.
“Human lives are fleeting. Her death was always going to happen.”
The callousness of her words had Jono stepping between the two so that Patrick didn’t do anything he’d regret. If he laid a hand on her in plain view of the police, that would turn into an ordeal they didn’t have time for.
Carmen tipped her head back to look Jono in the eye and smirked at him. She looked and smelled human, probably wearing an artifact to help hide hints of her true self the way Sage used to.
“Watch your words,” Jono said in a low, harsh voice.
“I speak the truth. Ashanti would say the same thing, for all that she and Setsuna guided him when he was younger.”
Jono reached out and covered the top of her drink with his hand. Rather than take it from her, he curled his fingers in toward his palm, shattering the delicate glass and causing the rest of her drink to spill all over her expensive-looking clothes. Carmen hissed at him, the sound nowhere close to human, but she didn’t move.
A Veiled & Hallowed Eve Page 13
