Setsuna’s voice was cold when she spoke again. “I’m aware of that. An audit is already being implemented.”
The Repository was housed in a highly classified remote detachment of Edwards Air Force Base known by its vernacular name of Area 51. The Department of the Preternatural, the Supernatural Operations Agency, and the Preternatural Intelligence Agency all had equal control over the Repository. It held magical and supernatural relics of the past and newly made ones from modern times, all of them drawn from one myth or another.
Every country on Earth had an equivalent of the United States’ Repository. A build-up of magical weapons and artifacts had happened during the two World Wars and ramped up during the Cold War. Weapons of high magical strength were usually under the express control of governments. No one ever really knew what items each country had under their control. That information was always highly classified, but it didn’t stop people from trying to infiltrate the heavily guarded locations across the world.
It certainly hadn’t stopped Ethan and the Dominion Sect during the Thirty-Day War. It wasn’t until months after that fight that someone even thought to check the Repository in the United States for any discrepancies. Patrick had heard rumors of missing items, though he didn’t know for sure what they were.
By law, Patrick’s dagger should have been confiscated and listed in the United States’ Repository since it was made by gods. Since receiving it, Patrick had played the weapon off as nothing more than a well-crafted artifact but nothing truly out of the ordinary. Outside of Setsuna, Nadine, and a handful of others he trusted, no one knew about the dagger’s true origins. He knew if it had been placed in the Repository after the Thirty-Day War, then it would be in Ethan’s hands by now.
“Send whatever backup you can trust to help us hold the line. Put them in touch with Chief Giovanni Casale. We’ll handle the frontal attack,” Patrick said.
If Setsuna was going to argue, no one heard what she had to say. Patrick ended the call with her and then dialed Casale, putting it back on speaker again. Casale picked up almost immediately.
“Where the hell have you been?” Casale said.
“Out,” Patrick replied.
“In more ways than one,” Nadine said under her breath.
Casale didn’t seem to hear her. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Patrick leaned tiredly into Jono’s warmth and didn’t shake off the arm the taller man wrapped around his waist. He steadfastly ignored the raised eyebrow Nadine directed his way.
“You sound like you’ve missed me.”
Casale blew out a heavy breath, the pickup turning it into a quick crackle of static. “Like a nail through my skull. I need answers.”
“We had to go to ground. I hear Rachel has a warrant out for her arrest. Does she have her face slapped on a Most Wanted poster yet? Please tell me she does.”
Nadine rolled her eyes. “Have there been any more murders?”
“Who are you?” Casale snapped.
“Backup,” Patrick replied. “Let’s not use names. She’s doing me a favor by being here, but it’s not technically legal.”
“Collins—”
Patrick cut him off. “Look, Casale. I got Marek out of the mess on the beach, and believe me, he and I are going to have words about that. Arguing about what’s already happened won’t get us anywhere. We have a day, maybe less, until whatever spell is being cast will go off. Summer solstice is tomorrow. I need a sitrep, Casale. I need itnow.”
Casale was quiet for half a minute before he spoke again. “You told Tyler to hold his own against a group of mercenary magic users.”
“I told him I was on the way.”
“You’re lucky my son knows what the hell he’s doing when it comes to wards, or we wouldn’t be talking.”
“Your son had a good teacher,” Nadine said. Coming from her, it was high praise. Casale didn’t see it that way.
“His mother” was Casale’s short reply. “Incidentally, she wanted me to tell you the reactionary storm is getting worse. Her high priestess has tasked the Crescent Coven with warning all magic users in the five boroughs to stay behind their wards and thresholds for the next two days.”
Patrick made a face, wondering about Hera’s generosity to mortals she didn’t much care about. Her coven worshipped her, and she drew her power from their prayers, but it was nothing compared to what it once was. Gods needed religion to regain their strength and power. All they had now were stories in books, and some didn’t even have that.
“Probably a good idea. We think the nexus is compromised.”
Casale’s job, coupled with him being married to a high-ranking witch, gave him enough of an understanding to know just how exceptionally fucked the situation was in relation to that statement.
“Fuck,” Casale bit out. “What are you doing about it?”
“Director Abuku is sending someone to monitor it. She’ll be reassigning SOA special agents to help with the problem.”
