“Why isit whenever I see you these days, it’s always in preparation for a fight?” Nadine asked.
Patrick glanced over at her as they walked through St. James’s Park in the early afternoon. The silence ward Nadine had cast covered their immediate area in a bubble of silence. It left Patrick’s ears muffled, the sounds of the city absent from his hearing.
The trees surrounding them were in full greenery, giving the illusion they weren’t in the middle of London. On a sunny Wednesday, the park was filled with office and government workers on their lunch breaks, along with tourists and locals alike taking advantage of the sun. The heat had Patrick wishing he wasn’t wearing a suit.
“Because Setsuna still hasn’t let me take a vacation,” Patrick said.
“That’s a travesty.”
Nadine’s high heels clicked against the asphalt of the park pathway they walked down, the only sound Patrick could hear beyond their breathing.
“I didn’t think Franklin would allow us to work together again. What changed his mind?”
Nadine shrugged lightly. “I think Reed demanded it. Honestly, there are a limited number of agents assigned to the joint task force. There were only so many people he could’ve picked from, but it didn’t make sense for him to send someone from the States when I’m working out of Paris.”
Her location had been helpful last December when Patrick, his pack, and the Hellraisers had been in a tight spot in Ireland. Nadine had flown out on an emergency basis to act as backup they desperately needed.
“Have you worked with the team here before?” Patrick asked.
“I’ve worked with people out of the WSA before, though not these particular officers. The WSA tends to share information a little easier than the French do.”
“I guess the special relationship between our countries comes in handy.”
“Sometimes.” Nadine peered at him through her designer sunglasses. “What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t say in there?”
Patrick automatically cased the area, wondering if they had a tail or not. Trust only went so far between foreign intelligence agencies, especially when magic was in the mix. “Albert is wrong about the timing of the auction.”
“Do tell.”
“The invitation says it’s happening this Sunday.”
Nadine nodded, the expression on her face remaining blank. “Location?”
“We won’t know until this weekend.” Patrick chewed on his bottom lip for another second before continuing with “I don’t think we should share that information, especially if Nazarov is onsite.”
“They’d expect us to.”
“Doesn’t mean we have to, especially if their necromancy laws would put them at odds with our needs. We can’t risk the WSA ruining the meet-up. We need the auction to go forward.”
“That’s going to cause problems down the road.”
“I don’t have a choice. You know why.”
She did, which put Nadine in a small category of people who knew about his past and the soul debt that dictated his life.
“Anything else I should know?” Nadine asked.
Patrick scratched at an itch on his jaw that stemmed from shaving that morning. “We’re trying to get a meeting with the London god pack to clear us for pass-through rights. I think things are going to get messy.”
“How so?”
“Apparently Jono’s exile came with a death sentence over here. A fact he never told me about until the other day.”
“Doesn’t he already have hunters after him?”
“Yeah. I don’t know if any operating over here are chasing the same bounty. Think you could find out for us?”
“I’ll see what I can do, but you might have more luck contacting the SOA’s permanent liaison officer in MI5 directly.”
