Patrick took a sip of his whiskey before answering, looking out of place behind the bar. “They’ve agreed to Lucien’s terms. Mostly.”
“Is mostly going to be enough?”
“Probably? Setsuna told me the lawyers are arguing over the details right now. Lucien will take the invitation to help us retrieve the Morrígan’s staff in exchange for one hundred years of free passage through the United States’ borders and diplomatic immunity.”
Jono winced. “He’s going to make a mess of things.”
“Yeah, but we’ll be dead and gone when the agreement comes to an end.”
“Your president is okay with making a deal like this?” Patrick shrugged, hunching his shoulders a little. Jono reached for his free hand so he could slide their fingers together. “Your name isn’t on that agreement. History won’t blame you for it.”
“The decision is classified for national security reasons, but that won’t stop people from finding out the truth in the future.”
“Not our problem. Not yet.”
Patrick took another long swallow of his drink, putting a dent in what he’d already poured. Jono hoped he wouldn’t have a second glass. Patrick had given up smoking last year, but drinking away his stress was sometimes the choice he made when he could afford to. Old habits and vices were sometimes difficult to unlearn. For all the years that Jono had worked in pubs and bars to make ends meet, watching people drown their problems in drink was a common occurrence, and never the answer to anything.
Jono didn’t much care for that habit, and he liked it even less when the man he loved gave in to it. If they were home, he’d do his best to distract Patrick with sex, but that wasn’t an option here.
“Setsuna said it’ll be finalized by Lucien’s deadline. They’ve got the legal departments of two agencies and a military branch reviewing the agreement and parsing every single word. PIA Director Franklin is appointing one of his agents to meet me in London,” Patrick said.
“Nadine?”
Jono liked Patrick’s best friend. Nadine Mulroney was a lovely person with a spine of steel and got on well with the pack.
Patrick shrugged. “I won’t know until I get to London. Reed has already ordered the invitation to be extracted from the Repository and escorted to DC for the handoff.”
Jono raised an eyebrow. “That soon? When does Lucien leave?”
“For DC? After sunset tonight. They want to brief him before dawn on Sunday, and he won’t go without Einar. Lucien has to at least pretend the sun is a problem for him.”
“What about London?”
“He leaves for that city on Monday.” Patrick drew in a breath. “Same day I do.”
Jono tightened his grip. “Wedo.”
Patrick made a face. “Yeah, all right. We already fought over that.”
“Don’t be stroppy.”
“I’m not.” Patrick took another sip of whiskey. “Could the British government stop you from entering the country?”
“I don’t think so. I still have British citizenship. The London god pack was able to exile me from the city, but they didn’t have the political connections necessary to revoke anything else.”
Patrick nodded slowly. “We can’t hide what you are, but I’ll tell Marek to reach out to his government handlers, and I’ll give Setsuna a heads-up. He can let them know you need clearance. Maybe that will help our chances on the other side of the Atlantic.”
“Lying about his visions is a federal crime.”
“Who’s going to question him?”
Jono snorted and let go of Patrick’s hand to join him behind the bar. He cupped Patrick’s jaw with one hand, smoothing his thumb over a lightly freckled cheek. Patrick met his gaze without blinking, and Jono didn’t hesitate to kiss him, slow and sweet, sharing the breath between them.
“We’ll figure it out,” Jono murmured against his lips. “We always do.”
“One of these days our luck will run out.”
Jono squeezed Patrick’s hip with his other hand, holding him close. “Luck has nothing to do with any of this.”
