“Marek isn’t picking up,” Jono said tersely a few seconds later.
“Try Leon. I’ll call Emma.”
Patrick’s phone just kept ringing before getting picked up by voicemail. He hung up without leaving a message. Jono didn’t seem to have much luck either in reaching Leon.
Patrick put his phone away. “Dwayne? Allison? I need your car.”
“Why?” Dwayne asked.
“Because mine got blown up, and I need to find Marek. Give me your keys.”
“Why do you think Marek is in danger?”
“He’s got a hefty amount of magic at his disposal, and a spell of this magnitude will need a large enough sacrifice at the end. Keys.Now.”
And because Marek, being a seer, had a direct tie to an immortal, which would give the spell an even bigger boost. Patrick didn’t want to think about how messy things would get if Marek died on his watch.
“What if he’s not home?” Allison said.
“We’ll try his work and the bar. Does he have any other places he frequents?” Patrick asked Jono.
“He owns a mansion in the Hamptons,” Jono said.
Patrick rounded on him. “Big enough to house a party?”
Jono nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Fuck. I am chaining him to his goddamn apartment after this.”
If Marek was in Long Island, the seer wouldn’t have to be worried about dying by way of a soultaker’s teeth and insatiable hunger. Patrick would kill the other man himself for not learning to stay fuckingput.
Dwayne was on the phone to Casale about the latest situation they were all facing when an SUV braked to a halt behind their unmarked car. Patrick would’ve paid it no mind except the woman who got out from behind the steering wheel caught his attention like little else could.
Tall and lean, with her brown hair pulled back in a tight braid coiled at the base of her skull, the woman silently nodded at him. She wore black cargo pants tucked into combat boots, a fitted black T-shirt, and a tactical handgun holstered to her heavy-duty belt. Patrick could see nothing that would show any affiliation she might have with any agency. No badge, no name tag, no insignia—not that she needed any. After the missions they’d run together as combat mages in the Mage Corps, Patrick would know her face anywhere.
He’d ask what Special Agent Nadine Mulroney of the Preternatural Intelligence Agency was doing here in New York City, but he already knew the answer.
Nadine was Setsuna’s second call-in.
“Who’s that?” Allison asked.
“Backup,” Patrick said, already walking toward his ride. “Jono, you’re coming with me. Allison, I don’t need your car anymore, but I need you to send some of your people to Marek’s Manhattan addresses. Call me with news on if he’s there or not. Tell Casale I’ll return when I can.”
“Where are you going?”
“Long Island.”
“You’re gonna need an escort,” Dwayne said after he hung up. He cupped his hands around his mouth and raised his voice. “Lee! You and your partner are taking Special Agent Collins to Long Island. Lights and sirens all the way.”
The uniformed cop in question reached for his radio in anticipation of giving dispatch an update. “Location?”
Patrick called out the address along with instructions for Lee to “Turn your lights and sirens off three miles out from the destination. I don’t want to give away our position.”
“Understood,” Officer Lee replied.
“Collins,” Nadine said in greeting once Patrick made it to the SUV.
“Mulroney,” Patrick said. “Tell me you brought gear?”
