“You still need to give a reason to them. That reason will not be my Night Court.”
“So I’ll lie. Won’t be the first time.”
“If you go through the tunnels, you’ll need a distraction on the street level,” Sergio said, tapping at the blueprint for the Crimson Diamond. “The bastard will be expecting you.”
Jono leaned back in his chair and rubbed his mouth, wolf-bright eyes narrowed in thought. “What about a fight? We talked earlier about issuing a challenge. Think Tremaine would take the bait?”
“Tremaine would bill it as a headliner if you were in that ring,” Wade spoke up from behind them. “Tloque Nahuaque would try to kill you.”
“He can try,” Jono said with a snort.
Patrick glanced over his shoulder at Wade. He’d left his tote bag of snacks over by the stairs and had sneaked up on them. Wade still didn’t know how to contain his aura, which meant his soul was a bright halo around his body and always would be until he learned control. Patrick’s eyes watered and he blinked rapidly to try to clear his vision.
“Have you ever been down in any of those tunnels?” Patrick asked.
Wade shoved his hands into his jean pockets, shoulders hunched up to his ears. “Yes.”
The answer came out in a monotone, the tone telling. Wade was a minefield of trauma Patrick had to carefully navigate. “Did they ever take you to an altar?”
Wade flinched with his entire body. After a moment, he jerked his head in a sharp nod. Patrick wished he could leave Wade’s memories alone, but they had a goddess of death skulking around the subway, being courted by another immortal whose chosen gifts came in the form of sacrifices. As much as he wanted to protect Wade, the gods wouldn’t let him, not if it interfered with Patrick’s ability to finish the task they’d assigned him.
“If you went down there with us, could you lead us up to the club?”
“Patrick,” Sage said warningly.
She was thinking about Wade’s mental health over the lives of everyone else in New York City. Patrick understood that. He could admire her willingness to protect the teen when he wasn’t able to, but Wade had on-the-ground information they needed. Patrick couldn’t pass that up. His soul debt didn’t allow him the luxury to stop.
Patrick had learned to be ruthless because that was the only way to survive. If Wade didn’t want to come with them down into the tunnels, Patrick would have no other choice but to lean hard into General Reed’s order for Wade to stay with him. It was a tactic he’d apologize for later, after the fact, when they saw the other side of this fight.
It still left a bad taste in his mouth.
“You’ve seen who I have to deal with, right?” Patrick asked Wade. “The gods who annoy the shit out of me?”
Wade rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Long story short, the Dominion Sect tried to get Tezcatlipoca and Santa Muerte to hand me over to them. Fighting against gods isn’t new to me. I just prefer to do my fighting with as much of an upper hand as I can get. That means I need you down there with me. You’re the only one of us who can navigate those tunnels. Would you do it with us?”
Before Wade could answer, Lucien’s head snapped up, his black eyes locked on the entrance to Ginnungagap.
“We have company,” Lucien said, fangs pricking his chapped lips.
Patrick stood, as did Jono. Sage slapped all the maps and blueprints together, rolled them up messily, and darted toward the stairs to hide them up on the mezzanine and out of sight. Wade scrambled after her, grabbing his tote bag of snacks and bringing it with him as he took the steps two at a time.
Einar went to answer the door with Irena at his back. She’d unearthed an AK-47 from somewhere and had it braced against her shoulder with steady hands. She wasn’t the only one armed. Patrick watched as cartel members and other vampires reached for their weapons. The human servants placed themselves close to things that could be used as cover, all of them armed with pistols.
Lucien didn’t move beyond draping his arm over Carmen’s shoulders when she came to stand by his side, a show of force most people knew better than to cross. Carmen tossed her hair over her shoulder, the curls shifting around her horns.
Einar opened the door, keeping his body angled out of the way of Irena’s line of sight. The master vampire who stood in the dark alleyway with her inner circle was a surprise that made Patrick lock down his personal shields.
“Greetings, Lucien,” Maria of the Bronx Night Court said, not moving a millimeter over the threshold. “I’ve come to negotiate territory.”
“Yours?” Lucien drawled.
The vampires at Maria’s back bristled at the implication, but she didn’t blink an eye. “Tremaine’s.”
Lucien didn’t invite Maria in. Patrick could sense the threshold around Ginnungagap strengthen in the face of the threat at its door. Lucien walked forward with Carmen held close to his side, the pair of them in lockstep as they approached the local master vampire. Patrick followed, wanting a better view and needing to hear what would be said. Jono joined him.
Maria wore a hoodie instead of a tiara of fangs this time around, along with plain dark clothes. As disguises went, it was terrible, but Patrick figured this visit was a quick in-and-out run through Manhattan. The gold rings and necklaces she wore prickled with magic that Patrick didn’t trust, though he trusted Ginnungagap to keep it out.
