He shut the door, remote locked the car, and turned to face whoever had come down to be his minder for the day. The blonde woman standing at the nearby entrance wasn’t shielded, and Patrick got a sense of her magic through his own—sorceress. She matched him in height in the high heels she wore, navy blue sheath dress skimming the top of her knees. Her gaze was frankly curious as she sized him up.
“That’s me,” Patrick said.
“You’re late.”
Patrick shrugged. “Traffic.”
She pursed her lips, nose wrinkling slightly, most likely from the feel of his magic. He hadn’t completely locked down his shields, and the taint in his soul and magic seeped through his aura. She still extended her hand in greeting, and Patrick accepted the firm handshake.
“I’m Leighton Northcott. I’m a WSA intelligence officer and the liaison for your case.”
“Great. I was told I’d be meeting with you and a couple other people this morning.”
“Yes. We’re waiting on you.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow at that subtle dig. “Then lead the way.”
“Put this on first.”
She handed him a visitor’s badge, the charm cast on it making his fingertips itch. If it was anything like the badges the SOA handed out, Patrick figured it would set off a magical alarm if he went where he wasn’t supposed to. He clipped it to the lapel of his suit jacket.
“You are not to go anywhere without an escort,” she informed him. “Now stay close.”
Leighton spun neatly on her heels, which was impressive, since they looked to be about four inches in height. Patrick’s feet ached just looking at them. He followed her through a heavy wooden door warded as strongly as the entrance he’d driven through a few minutes ago. The threshold buried deep in the building would never be as strong as a home since it was public space, but the defensive magic laid down around it more than made up for its lack.
Patrick tightened his shields even more as they entered an atrium. People hurried back and forth, ignoring them. The main staircase was a switchback near the main entrance, and Leighton cut through everyone to reach it. Patrick followed in her wake, dodging neatly around anyone who got between them.
“We’re meeting with my superior. Operations Officer Albert Lee is lead on this matter.”
Patrick committed the name to memory. “Understood.”
Leighton took the stairs to the second floor, and from there it was a maze of hallways until she reached a warded door. She touched the handle, and the metal glowed briefly from whatever magic was embedded in it. Pushing it open, she waved Patrick inside.
“SOA Special Agent Patrick Collins, sir,” Leighton announced to the room at large.
Patrick’s gaze swept over the space, taking in the multiple desk terminals all facing the front wall dominated by a large screen. A couple of people looked up at their arrival before returning their attention to the task at hand.
A gray-haired sorcerer stood at the front of the room, studying the information on the large screen. He turned around at Leighton’s announcement, staring at them over the heads of everyone working. The woman standing beside him was familiar, welcome, and someone Patrick hadn’t seen since December.
PIA Special Agent Nadine Mulroney wore a dove gray pantsuit, a white blouse, and her heels were just as high as Leighton’s. The cut of her clothes told Patrick she wasn’t carrying a gun, but that didn’t mean she was unarmed. An ex-combat mage like he was, Nadine’s affinity for defensive magic was matched by no one. She was his closest friend, despite living and working out of Paris the past couple of years.
He hadn’t known who PIA Director Franklin had been going to appoint as the agency’s representative for this mission, but Patrick was glad it was someone he knew.
“Collins,” Nadine said with a faint smile on her face.
“Mulroney,” Patrick replied in a friendly tone.
Albert eyed Patrick as he and Leighton approached. “I take it you two know each other?”
“We fought together from time to time in the Mage Corps,” Nadine said.
“This is London, not a battlefield, Mulroney.”
Patrick wondered if his reputation had somehow crossed the Atlantic ahead of him. Nadine said nothing to that warning though, and Patrick followed her lead by keeping quiet.
Albert turned to face the large screen. Someone had uploaded a set of grainy photographs taken with a long-lens camera. Ethan’s face was familiar in a way Patrick wished it weren’t. The other two men were unknown to him.
“Your government asked for assistance in locating and apprehending these three targets. INTERPOL has a long-standing Red Notice for Ethan Greene, though we haven’t flagged him inside the UK’s borders as of yet,” Albert said.
