He was smart enough not to say anything else, sticking close to Patrick’s side as they approached the front desk. The werecreature in a suit waved off his coworker so that he could be the one to help them.
“Checking in?” the man asked politely. He was taller than Patrick, of Indian descent, and Sikh, judging by his dastaar. The name tag pinned to his suit said Ekam. His eyes were a dark brown, which meant he wasn’t god pack. Patrick didn’t know what kind of werecreature Ekam was, and he knew better than to ask.
“Yeah. One room, two double beds if you have it available. Reservation is under Collins. I can give you the confirmation number if you need it,” Patrick said, pulling out his phone.
The man nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the computer screen. He stopped typing a couple of seconds later, gaze flicking back to Patrick and staying riveted to his face. “Patrick Collins?”
Ekam said his name with a weight to the syllables that Patrick didn’t like. It made him wonder just how much of the shit going down in New York lately had traveled outside their territory borders. “Yeah. Special Agent Patrick Collins.”
Since he knew the guy would be asking for ID, Patrick pulled out his SOA badge from his inner jacket pocket, flipping it open for Ekam to see. The other man’s eyes moved from the badge to Patrick’s face.
“Out of New York?”
“Says so on the badge, doesn’t it?” Wade said.
“Quiet,” Patrick said without looking at him. “It’s been a long flight, and we just want our room.”
Ekam drew in a breath that Patrick knew was meant to get their scent. Patrick didn’t know what he’d get off them—Patrick’s shields were locked down now and Wade’s aura had been human to his senses since they’d gotten on the plane at LaGuardia. If it was Jono’s scent somehow, well, he’d be fine with that at least.
Ekam turned his attention back to the computer. “I have a double deluxe on a midfloor ready for you. I’ll need a credit card.”
Patrick handed over his card, signed what he needed to, then shoved the card back into his wallet once it was returned. Ekam handed over two electronic room key cards, and Patrick promptly gave one to Wade. “Don’t lose it.”
Wade pocketed it and burped. “Okay. I’m hungry.”
Patrick hoped the minibar in their room came with decent alcohol. “What’s our room number?”
“You’re in room 1209,” Ekam said, polite enough. “Enjoy your stay.”
If this little interaction was anything to go by, that wasn’t going to happen. Patrick grabbed the handle of his suitcase and jerked his head in the direction of the elevator. “Let’s go.”
Wade followed after him, chewing on a fingernail. He kept looking around at everything, his curiosity obvious. It made Patrick wonder how often Wade had ever been in a hotel growing up before he was kidnapped. He didn’t linger too much on that thought. If Wade wanted to talk about his past with them, he knew he could. Patrick wasn’t going to ask prying questions because he knew how much someone’s past could hurt.
“Twelfth floor, coming right up,” Wade said as he pressed the button once they were in the elevator. “If that guy was a werecreature, are we moving hotels?”
Patrick chewed on his bottom lip, watching the floor numbers flash by. “Wouldn’t really do much good now that they know we’re in town. I’ll lay down a threshold once we’re in the room.”
It wouldn’t be as strong as the ones wrapped around their homes because hotels were technically public domains. People might stay in them, but they weren’t a home. Magic wasn’t going to seep into the foundation of the building and protect it against people or monsters who had no right to be there when a hotel was meant for everyone.
Patrick still did his damnedest to wrap their hotel room with a threshold while Wade decided which bed he wanted. He was picky about where he slept. Patrick still remembered the three hours they’d spent at Macy’s in Manhattan last summer helping him decide on a mattress. It had been annoying at the time, but they’d stayed until Wade had lain on every bed at least twice before finally making his decision.
“This one is mine,” Wade said, flopping down on the one closest to the window.
The curtains were open, allowing them to see the lit-up Chicago skyline. Patrick dropped his backpack on the other bed before approaching the window and staring out at the view for a few seconds. Then he pulled the curtains shut.
“Unpack and get ready for bed. I need to be at the local field office at 0800 tomorrow, and I want to sleep,” Patrick said.
“But I’m still hungry,” Wade whined.
Patrick sighed and headed for the nightstand that separated the two double beds. He picked up the phone, checked which extension was room service on the little welcome booklet, then looked at Wade. “What do you want?”
Wade smiled smugly, looking pleased with himself now that he was getting his third meal of the night. “A hamburger. Two of them. With extra fries. Oh, and dessert. Cheesecake if they have it.”
Patrick had a feeling he was going to run through his allotted travel stipend for food within the first twenty-four hours of being in Chicago. He wondered if Setsuna would acceptkept fledgling dragon fed so he didn’t eat the localsas an excuse for reimbursements.
3
Special Agent Kelly Russellwas short, blonde, and a witch. She couldn’t quite keep the discomfort out of her expression when she shook Patrick’s hand in the conference room upon first meeting, but she was polite enough not to mention it. Patrick was pretty sure it had to do with his tainted magic because he hadn’t bothered shielding completely since leaving the hotel earlier. Possibly also because he was flying in and taking over a case someone else already had.
