“It got partially eaten by a soultaker. I’m still not at full strength,” Patrick told her before tapping Jono on the shoulder. “I need you to describe the house for us.”
Jono started searching through the photos on his phone. “Can do you one better. Two-story mansion with direct beach access in the back. Gated entryway. Strong threshold, but nothing you lot can’t get through, I’d wager.”
Jono handed Patrick his phone again. The folder in question contained photos shot during a Fourth of July barbecue. In some of the outdoor shots, Patrick could make out the size of the house. His mind churned through several possible infiltration methods.
“Line of sight is clear if she put anyone with a long gun in the second-floor rooms facing the front. There are open areas on the side, but best ingress might be a frontal attack,” Patrick said.
“I doubt they brought guns. That is never the first weapon civilian magic users go for in a fight. I’ll hide our approach,” Nadine said. “You sense anything yet, Collins?”
Patrick’s magic was quiet in his soul, no hint of recognition of any type burning through it. “Not yet.”
“Tell me when and what you feel the second you do.”
“Copy that.”
A couple of raindrops started to hit the windshield when their escort cut the lights and sirens off a mile out. Nadine sped up, overtaking their escort to take point the rest of the way. She braked to a hard halt a couple of houses down from Marek’s and put the SUV into park before exiting the vehicle. She yanked open the side passenger door to grab her tactical gear, strapping it into place.
“Too bad you couldn’t have borrowed some helmets,” Patrick said as he scrambled out, M4A1 carbine in hand.
“You know Lucien. He thinks a head shot can’t stop him.”
Patrick snapped the assault rifle’s carry strap to his vest to secure it to his body. He tucked the buttstock against his shoulder, finger resting over the trigger guard. Raindrops fell on his cheeks as he followed Nadine forward. The clouds out here were darker than back in Manhattan. Ocean salt hung heavy on the wind; he could practically taste it.
Officer Lee and his partner got out of their squad car, weapons drawn, but Patrick waved them back. “You two, stay put. No matter what you hear, don’t come after us, got it?”
“Yeah,” Officer Lee replied, eyeing their tactical gear. “Good luck.”
Jono fell in beside Patrick, his sunglasses left behind in the SUV. “You need me to shift?”
If Jono had any experience in fighting magic users and demons in his other form, Patrick would say yes. But he didn’t know Jono’s capabilities, and he couldn’t risk not knowing them in the field right now.
“Stay human,” Patrick said. “And stay on our six.”
Jono fell into step behind them. “Right.”
A pale lavender mageglobe flared into existence near Nadine’s left elbow, keeping pace with her as she ran. Patrick could feel her magic flowing around them, warm and clean in a stealth spell that quieted the sounds of their pounding feet and hid them from sight. She kept it up all the way to the front gate, where instead of picking the lock or shooting it off, she waved Jono toward the code box. Patrick stared through the ACOG scope of his rifle and cased the front of the home while Jono unlocked the gate.
“No overwatch that I can see, but they got a silence ward wrapped around the mansion,” Patrick said.
“That I can sense,” Nadine said.
The door lock buzzed open as Jono finished typing in the code. Patrick advanced with Nadine by his side, their weapons up and magic primed for immediate use. They were halfway across the freshly mowed lawn when recognition erupted through Patrick’s magic, the same ugly sensation he’d felt at the bar, only multiplied.
“Motherfucker,” Patrick growled, sprinting forward. “Soultakers are coming through the veil!”
“Raising a shield,” Nadine replied.
She followed hot on his heels, wrapping a combat shield around them on the fly. It could hold up against a grenade dropped on it from the outside but was layered differently from within to allow for the firing of weapons without fear of ricochets. The shield moved with them, a malleable, invisible barrier.
They scrambled up the porch, crossing a threshold that felt choked off to Patrick’s senses. The silence ward hastily drawn on the doorframe outside might have been the source, but the strength bolstering it burned in an ugly, familiar way.
He reached for the sigil, fingers hovering over the blackened lines before he made a fist. “Nadine.”
“What?” she said in a low voice, already aiming at the door.
“Hera said Hades was sighted in Manhattan last week.” Patrick turned his head to meet her gaze. “I think he’s here.”
“Fuckme. This day just keeps getting worse and worse.”
