“One of these days you should, if only to spare our sanity.”
“No promises.”
“If you want to waste time making deals with someone else, then you can leave,” Carmen said.
She crossed one leg over the other, gently kicking her foot back and forth. The stilettos she wore were easily five inches in height. Patrick wondered how she managed to walk over the icy ground without breaking her neck. She’d opted for a pair of leather pants rather than a skirt and had passed on any form of shirt in favor of a suit jacket with a single button that gaped suggestively around her full breasts.
Her red pupils seemed to glow, the horns of her kind curled away from her skull. She’d left her thick black curls loose, and her hair fell around her body like a waterfall. Carmen would always be a seductive force they could never trust.
“We already told you we’re willing to pay. Now show us the merchandise so we can be off,” Jono said.
Carmen held out one hand to the guard on her left. He reached for her and carefully helped her off the stack of crates, his eyes lingering on the curve of her full breasts beneath the suit jacket.
“Your weapon choices are the same as before, as is the price, but a commission fee of one hundred grand is being added.” Carmen flashed a smile at them, sharp teeth pricking her glossy red lips. “I need a new spring wardrobe.”
Patrick winced but nodded at Jono when the other man looked over at him for confirmation. “Yeah. Not like we have a choice.”
“Marek is going to whinge about this forever,” Jono said.
“I’d say we can pay him back, but he’s the billionaire, not us.”
Technically, they were making this payment to Lucien from pack tithes agreed to be paid by the Tempest pack. It didn’t leave much left over for the next year, but Marek had flat out said he’d bankroll their god pack despite Jono’s protest. They wanted to do things the right way, or as right as one possibly could when taking in what amounted as—legal—protection money.
It still left Patrick feeling uncomfortable, but not enough to stand back and go into the fight empty-handed.
He’d lost his tactical pistol across the veil and picked out a new one from one of the crates. It would have to do until he could report back to the SOA about his missing pistol and request a new one.
Gerard and Keith still had their rifles from the first weapons buy, but they grabbed more ammunition to be on the safe side. The rest of the Hellraisers picked out rifles, spelled bullets, and grenades as well, hiding their choices in black duffel bags after cartel members logged the purchases in an old bound book that reeked of magic.
At Patrick’s questioning look, Carmen smirked at him. “Technology can be hacked. A warded record book spelled to burn if the wrong people try to access it is far more secure.”
“I don’t know about that,” Patrick said.
“How we do business is not your concern.”
Considering Lucien had been in the business of war and death for nearly a thousand years and had yet to be caught, Patrick figured the master vampire probably knew what he was doing. Patrick would never tell Lucien that to his face though.
They picked out their weapons, Jono contacted Marek to initiate payment, and as soon as Carmen nodded acceptance of the funds in their offshore account, Patrick texted Emma.
Ready to roll.
They weren’t bringing the Tempest pack with them across the veil, but Emma’s people were more than willing to chauffeur the Hellraisers and Jono’s god pack around the city for however long they needed.
The three little dots on his screen finally morphed into a text bubble.Two minutes. Cars are circling.
“Our ride will be here in a couple of minutes,” Patrick said.
Gerard hefted one of the bulging duffel bags onto his shoulder. “Then let’s go.”
They left the warehouse, and two minutes later, the convoy of cars pulled up in front of the warehouse. Most people didn’t drive in Manhattan if they could help it, and many of the cars that braked to a halt on the street belonged to Marek and Emma. Their pack had unfettered access to most of the vehicles, and their collection came in handy on days like this.
Patrick and Jono climbed into the Maserati that Marek drove, Sage and Wade already in the back seat. Patrick squeezed into the back, giving Jono the front passenger seat to accommodate his longer legs.
“Ready?” Marek asked.
Patrick buckled up. “Yeah.”
Marek’s car was in the lead position, and he started driving. The plan was to drop everyone off in Central Park, and as soon as they were in the clear, Gerard would call for the Wild Hunt. He was a god of the Tuatha Dé Danann, aduine sídheof the Seelie Court, and while he couldn’t command the dead who belonged to a fellow immortal, he could still reach out to them.
