He closed his eyes, unable to push aside the memory of what Jono had looked like walking out of the apartment without a backward glance. Jono had Fenrir’s support, but that wasn’t a forever guarantee, and Patrick knew how capricious the gods could be. Patrick had to believe Jono would survive whatever he would ultimately face at the Crimson Diamond.
Maybe Jono is right. Next time we should stick together.
Patrick didn’t know what he would do if Jono didn’t make it out alive tonight. His concern had nothing to do with the soulbond and everything to do with the fact that Jono was becoming important to him. Jono was a risk and a weakness in a way Patrick couldn’t bring himself to let go of.
He opened his eyes, staring at the street. Patrick would deal with all the emotions Jono stirred up in him later, preferably when the other man was within reach to kiss.
The convoy of SUVs reached the subway station in waves, with drivers stopping only long enough to discharge their passengers before continuing on. Patrick was leaving the SUV before it even rolled to a stop, hauling his duffel bag over his shoulder as he hustled to the sidewalk.
A look-away ward could only hide so much, but Patrick cast one anyway. If word got back to Tremaine about their movements, it would hopefully be too late for the master vampire to react. Sage and Wade hurried after him, keeping pace. They made their way down into the subway, where a police officer from the SOA was posted at the fare gates.
The officer took one look at them before rapping his knuckles against the bulletproof glass surrounding the booth agent. “Let them through.”
Seconds later the faregates unlocked at the same time with loudka-thunksounds. Patrick and the others went through unimpeded while the officer kept a dozen general commuters back.
“This isn’t staying undercover,” Sage mused on their walk down to the platform.
“Biyu hacked the subway CCTV for this station and the train we’re taking. We aren’t being monitored,” Patrick said.
Lucien’s hacker was holed up wherever his Night Court lay low during daylight hours. Patrick didn’t know where that place was and doubted he ever would. He just knew her job was to keep Lucien and his Night Court off the police’s radar as much as possible.
“You are a lawyer’s worst nightmare, in case anyone hasn’t told you that lately.”
“You’re not the first to say that.”
As much as Patrick would have liked to abide by mortal laws, the gods and their expectations wouldn’t let him.
True to Casale’s word, Allison and Dwayne waited for them on the subway platform, the two detectives eyeing the crowd.
“Nice friends,” Allison said, arms crossed over her chest, badge prominently displayed on her belt.
“We’re not friendly,” Patrick replied. “How long until the train arrives?”
Dwayne looked at the watch on his wrist. “About five minutes.”
“Great.”
By the time the train in question was set to arrive, the platform was filled with everyone who had agreed to join the fight. Mixed in with the crowd were clusters of civilians who Allison and Dwayne made a point to speak to. Lucien and Carmen kept their distance from the detectives.
The electronic signs overhead started to flash SPECIAL on their boards. The sounds of the subway train approaching filled the tunnel, the squeal of metal on metal echoing in his ears. A surprisingly short three-car train pulled into the station with a screech of brakes, rolling to the center of the platform.
“This train is a Special for NYPD use only!” Dwayne called out loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth. “It will not be stopping at any station. Remain on the platform if you haven’t been cleared to board.”
“Good luck,” Allison said as the train carriage doors opened up. “Don’t die.”
“I don’t know if you’ve seen the odds but—” Patrick broke off with a grunt as Sage shoved him onto the first car of the subway train. “Rude. I was having a conversation.”
“And now we are having a coup,” Sage responded calmly as she settled into a subway seat.
The train lacked an operator, but the conductor opened his door and poked his head out, gaze landing unerringly on Patrick. “Hey. You. The redhead.”
“Collins,” Patrick replied helpfully.
“Whatever. I got orders to stop at a switch point and drop you off. This everyone?”
“Yeah.”
The man grunted. “Great. I’m closing the doors.”
