“Do I want to know what you just did?” Marek asked.
“Yes,” Sage answered as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, we do. That didn’t smell like normal magic.”
Emma groaned before making a beeline for the kitchen. “Goddamn it. We didn’t conduct hospitality with you first.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “I’m a federal agent. You don’t need to do that.”
Leon pointed a finger at him. “You’re breaking bread and having wine before you leave.”
“Water,” Jono corrected. “The bloke ate five paracetamols at the station. Alcohol isn’t a good chaser.”
“I’ll take wine,” Patrick said, because he was never going to say no to free alcohol.
Jono gave him alook, which Patrick ignored. The god pack alpha might be used to giving out orders, but he wasn’t Patrick’s boss, so he didn’t have to listen.
Emma came back with the heel of a slightly stale French bread loaf in one hand and a glass of water in the other, which was just unfair. Patrick would’ve preferred the wine. She thrust both at him with a defiant look in her brown eyes.
“Be welcome,” she gritted out, very obviously not meaning the words, even if it was the act itself that mattered.
Patrick tore off a piece of the bread and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with a mouthful of water. It left a gummy film on his teeth. At the edge of his senses, Patrick could feel the threshold react to the casually done ceremony. The faint, almost antagonistic bite of foreign magic eased.
Hospitality greetings were binding welcomes that ensured no harm would be done to the hearth and home while a magic user was present, and vice versa. Breaking the welcome meant suffering through an annoying headache for the next day or so, and the threshold forever banning the person in question from entering the home again. It made things awkward when it was the owner who screwed up.
Patrick handed back the water glass. “Happy?”
“No,” Emma retorted.
“The magic?” Sage pressed, like a dog with a bone, as most lawyers were.
Patrick wiped his fingers on his jeans to get rid of the bread crumbs. “I used the artifact to set a barrier ward. I’m hoping it will be enough to keep the soultaker out, but there’s no guarantee. It would be best if you stayed inside for the next few days.”
“I have a job,” Marek reminded him.
“You’re the owner. Take the time off so you aren’t lunch for a demon,” Patrick shot back.
“The demon was after Marek?” Emma asked sharply, spinning around to look at the seer.
Marek winced. “No?”
“Marek.”
“I mean, maybe? Yes? It’s complicated, Emma! And I can’t exactly talk about it.”
“Oh, we’re talking about it,” Emma growled.
“The details of the case aren’t available to the public,” Sage said, rubbing a finger against her temple.
“Marek is pack and under my protection. I have a right to know.”
“Wehave a right to know,” Leon added.
Marek threw his hands up in the air and turned to Patrick. “Are you done?” he asked, very unsubtly.
Patrick wasn’t going to stick around longer than he needed to. If Marek was going to break the NDA against Sage’s advice, then he could deal with the consequences, whatever they might be. Far be it from Patrick to police a seer.
“Yeah, I’m done. Call me if you see anything,” Patrick said.
He was halfway to the door when he heard multiple people cry out Marek’s name. Patrick snapped his head around, hand reaching for his dagger, ready to fight. No signs of a demon hit his senses, and the barrier ward was quiet around them.
