Marek finally looked up, staring at Patrick. “You know who is behind the murders.”
The statement fell between everyone like a rock. The hamburger suddenly tasted like rancid meat in Patrick’s mouth. He had to force himself to swallow it down. “I didn’t know for sure. Not until yesterday.”
“Seriously?”
“I’ve seen this shit before, but living through it once doesn’t count as evidence. We need proof that ties the perpetrators to the murders, and right now we don’t have anything solid that will stand up in court beyond a reasonable doubt.”
“So who wants us dead?”
Patrick thought about keeping his mouth shut, but too many lives were on the line right now. He couldn’t keep quiet in the face of those who were god-touched like he was.
“Ethan Greene.”
Marek stopped typing. “I thought…rumor said he died at the end of the Thirty-Day War.”
Patrick smiled grimly. “Rumors lie.”
He should know. Patrick had started one or two of those rumors when he’d given his official report to the brass while holed up in a field hospital.
“If he’s behind the murders, what makes you think you can stop him? And why wasn’t Ethan identified for the public?” Emma wanted to know.
“Who here missed the fact that I got assigned this case last Thursday? The SOA didn’t have solid evidence because Rachel was stonewalling. We still don’t have any evidence that will link Ethan to the murders.”
Marek started typing again. “Ethan was a former SOA special agent. Rachel tried to kill us on the beach. Your agency has a problem.”
“You aren’t the first one who’s pointed that out,” Patrick said irritably.
Nadine sighed. “The Dominion Sect is nearly impossible to weed out. Sometimes, in the grand scheme of things, it’s better to keep your enemies closer.”
“Is this the same Ethan we talked about over breakfast with Hera?” Jono said with a frown.
Nadine nearly choked on a fry. “Really? You broke bread with that bitch?”
“Not by choice,” Patrick muttered.
Jono’s gaze never wavered, but Patrick couldn’t see any trace of judgment in his eyes. “She mentioned your family.”
“Ethan isn’t just the enemy,” Carmen said as the succubus sauntered past the table. Her heels clicked loudly on the dirty cement floor as she headed for the door, phone in hand.
“Carmen,” Patrick bit out warningly.
“You may as well come clean. Your father is the reason you owe a soul debt to the immortals and are in this position in the first place.”
Patrick resolutely kept his eyes trained on his food, heart pounding in his chest so hard he wasn’t sure he could take another bite. Jono’s hand settled on the back of his neck, startling him badly. Those long fingers squeezed his neck gently, and Patrick glanced at Jono, feeling pinned to the chair by those bright eyes.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Jono said in a low voice.
“If Ethan is—” Emma argued.
Jono shook his head, his eyes never leaving Patrick’s. “Shut it, Em.”
Surprisingly, she listened. Emma let out an irritated huff, but kept quiet. Jono reached over and nudged at Patrick’s takeout box. “Eat. You need the calories.”
The sound of the warehouse side door opening again had Patrick looking over his shoulder. Lucien stepped inside, pulling off his motorcycle helmet. Carmen greeted him with a kiss that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a porn set. Lucien broke the kiss and started walking their way, his black eyes finding Patrick’s.
“You’re finally awake,” Lucien said.
Patrick made a face. “You sound so disappointed by that fact.”
