“Why?” Jono asked.
“Its presence would be felt beyond the veil, and it would be hunted. It is easier to hide something powerful in a world where the population numbers in the billions and iron coats the earth.”
“Which means we’re back to square one,” Patrick said.
Back to chasing down rumors, hoping to reach the prize before Ethan did. Patrick didn’t know where Ethan was these days, but he knew enough from Zachary’s presence on the Skellig Islands that his father was building up alliances the same way Patrick was. Ethan was still hunting for power and preparing for war.
He still wanted to be a god.
Macaria’s twisted godhead in Hannah’s soul was still at his disposal, because Patrick knew Ethan would never give up that power source. Patrick liked to think, in his darkest moments, that he’d know when his twin sister died for good.
“Medb bankrolls her mortal businesses through legal and illegal avenues. We will follow the money,” Tiarnán said.
Patrick nodded, tapping at his phone to check the time before getting to his feet. “Great. You do that. Keep us updated.”
“Where are you going?”
“We got a flight to catch.”
Sage set down her pen. “I’ll walk you out.”
Patrick pulled on his wool coat, the fabric thick around him, and put on his gloves. Órlaith still had his leather jacket, because he hadn’t been willing to ask for it back when that was the only clothes she’d been wearing after the fight. Jono grabbed the small carry-on from the corner that held what little clothes they were bringing for the quick trip.
“Will you be back in time for Christmas?” Sage asked once they reached the lobby of the building.
They paused by the glass doors leading to the street. The security barriers present at the beginning of the month had been taken down sometime during their travels back and forth across the veil. Patrick could still sense the wards in the building’s foundation, fae magic subtle and powerful where it pressed against his shields.
“We’ll be back tomorrow morning. The flight plans have already been filed for both trips. Tell Marek thank you for the jet. Trying to get a last-minute flight out was impossible when I looked at tickets,” Patrick said.
Sage smiled slightly, absently playing with the turquoise pendant hanging from around her throat. She felt human to Patrick’s magic now that she was back to wearing the artifact filled with fae glamour to hide her werecreature status.
“You’re coming over for Christmas Eve dinner, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, love,” Jono said.
Patrick wasn’t sure what consisted of a pack Christmas Eve dinner, but Jono was right. They wouldn’t miss it, and Patrick was looking forward to it. He hadn’t celebrated Christmas in a way that mattered since he was a kid growing up in Salem. Wade seemed particularly interested in the food and had been asking Leon questions about the dishes since they’d returned from Ireland through the veil.
“Marek will have your presents delivered to your apartment while you’re gone. I’ve told Wade he’s not supposed to touch them.”
Patrick laughed. “Tell Marek we owe him for saving Christmas.”
Sage stepped closer to hug Patrick. “Tell him yourself tomorrow. Safe travels, both of you.”
Patrick hugged her tight, before letting go. Sage had been the one to organize last-minute Christmas gift shopping through Marek’s personal assistant. Money definitely talked at a time like this, and that was something Patrick was definitely going to pay Marek back for.
Jono gave Sage a hug, discreetly scent-marking her. “You’re in charge until we get back.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on things,” Sage promised.
Emma had given them a brief update yesterday about the goings-on in the werecreature community. Either Gerard’s threat earlier in the month to Estelle and Youssef had been enough to make the pair momentarily stand down, or they were getting into the holiday spirit and saving murder for the new year.
Patrick didn’t give it too much longer before Estelle and Youssef started up their harassment campaign again. He and Jono would wait for them to make the first move and go from there, whenever it would be.
Patrick waved goodbye before he and Jono exited the building. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, bouncing a little on his feet. The weather seemed colder due to the fae’s presence in the city from the last few weeks. The Dagda’s harp had really only settled the seasons at the Gap of Dunloe. New York was resigned to a very cold and snowy winter.
“Ready?” Jono asked as he hailed a taxi, his distinctive eyes hidden behind sunglasses.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
