1
Special Agent Patrick Collinswas not supposed to be here.
New York City was not the beaches of Maui, where he should have been enjoying a long-delayed and much-needed vacation with as many tropical drinks as he could suck down. Instead, he was back on duty for the Supernatural Operations Agency, tasked with investigating a pair of emergency cases he was certain someone else could have handled.
“Out fifteen hundred dollars and no chance of reimbursement,” Patrick muttered angrily as he navigated the midday traffic to find a parking spot on a block close to his destination.
This was what he got for answering his phone right as he arrived at Washington Dulles International Airport to start his vacation.
Never again.
“I should’ve just gone to Maui,” he said, thinking wistfully of all the drinks with little umbrellas he wouldn’t get to enjoy.
Patrick had been wanting to try them for years, if he were honest.
After nine years as a combat mage in the Mage Corps under the direction of the US Department of the Preternatural, Patrick had walked away from frontline fighting at the age of twenty-six with habits not necessarily suited for civilian life. The SOA, a National Intelligence Service under the supervision of the Department of Defense, had immediately recruited him. Which meant Patrick continued doing what he’d been trained to do in the military, just on domestic soil rather than foreign, with a little less ordnance thrown into the mix.
Three years on and over a hundred cases later, his job mostly amounted to getting dropped into cities both large and small where monsters and demons hid in the shadows of the preternatural world. Being assigned to the Rapid Response Division within the SOA meant Patrick never got the easy jobs. He got paid to get his hands and soul dirty eviscerating demons, human or otherwise. Hazard bonuses made up a good chunk of his paycheck, but on a day like this? The money was never enough.
“When this is all over, you can go wherever you want. Just get the job done first,” Supernatural Operations Agency Director Setsuna Abuku told him over the Bluetooth connection in the car. “Preferably without any collateral damage this time.”
“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Patrick retorted.
Setsuna let out a sigh that sounded like static through the speakers. Patrick’s former childhood guardian and current boss had an attitude problem. Namely, she didn’t like his on every day that ended in ‘y’ and he didn’t like hers.
There were reasons for that.
“The SOA isn’t the military with a multibillion-dollar budget and the ability to write off your destructive tendencies with a mere warning.”
Patrick rolled his eyes as he twisted the steering wheel and shifted the car into reverse. Parking in a red zone behind a police car wasn’t ideal, but right now it was his only option. “That’s a shame. You might want to look into changing your budget.”
“Please stop complaining, Patrick.”
“If you ever gave me a day off, maybe I would.”
“I have. You didn’t. Where are you?”
“About to head into a crime scene.”
“You should have reported to the New York office before going into the field.”
“I’d rather suffer through a migraine. Knowing my luck, this case might give me one within the first twenty-four hours.”
“Patrick.”
“They got another body, Setsuna. What was I supposed to say? No, I can’t make it? This is what I came here for. This is whyyousent me, remember? Dead bodies and missing people. I won’t get any work done holed up in meetings all day.”
Patrick put the car into park and took the key out of the ignition. The call reverted back to his cell phone as the engine and power died. The June heat hit him hard as he got out, phone pressed to his ear.
New York City was hotter and muggier than Washington, DC, and he already missed the car’s air-conditioning. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and Patrick ran a hand through his messy dark red hair. The sides were trimmed short, but it was a little long on top. The style had grown out of his military buzz cut from three years ago and wouldn’t pass regulations these days.
Getting spoiled, Patrick thought to himself. Here he was complaining about air-conditioning when he’d spent years living without it.
Setsuna’s annoyed voice cut his musings short. “Patrick.”
“What?”
“Check in with Special Agent in Charge Rachel Andrita at the New York office after you finish processing the body.”
