Patrick pulled out his phone and dialed Lucien’s latest burner number from memory. It rang a total of ten times before the master vampire picked up.
“What?” Lucien demanded.
“We’re going with you to the auction. The government doesn’t trust you, andIdon’t trust you. One rule of the bargain was you get oversight, and I’m your fucking oversight,” Patrick said.
“Buyers with business ties to the Dominion Sect have been warned you’re in town. The auction doesn’t happen if you walk in with me. If you want that staff, you’ll do things my way.”
“What makes you think Ethan hasn’t ratted you out to them as well?”
“Because I play any and every side when it suits me, and everyone knows that. Denying me entrance won’t go over well for their future financial base.”
Patrick supposed if someone owned a criminal empire as vast as Lucien’s, they could issue a threat that would make everyone think twice about cutting them out.
“Spencer and I will go. Everyone else will stay outside the venue but ready to come help if needed.”
“You called in the soulbreaker?” Lucien asked, sounding interested in a way Patrick didn’t like.
“Ethan and whoever is at the auction won’t recognize Spencer. I’ll figure out a way to hide myself.”
“The protective wards that secure these kinds of locations will strip you of your magic. You don’t have any spell that can keep you hidden.”
“You aren’t going alone. That’s not happening.”
“I get diplomatic immunity to move freely in the United States whether or not you get the staff. My terms were based on aid, and your government agreed. If you lose the staff because you couldn’t hide your face, that’s not my problem.”
Lucien ended the call, and the silence in Patrick’s ear made him scowl. Jono frowned, brows drawn together worriedly, having obviously listened in to the conversation. “What now? I hate to agree with that fucker, but he has a point. You and your ginger hair are a bit too recognizable.”
Patrick glared down at his phone. “Spencer will still be unrecognizable. He fought in the Thirty-Day War, but never with the Hellraisers. The Mage Corps needed his help against the soultakers and zombies. I don’t think Ethan has any current information on him.”
“You can’t be sure.”
Patrick sighed, scrolling through his contacts. “I know.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“Rossiter is fae. If he’s setting the wards, then we’ll need fae magic to get us through.”
“What if someone else is setting the spells?”
“We’ll still need a strong defense.” Patrick’s thumb paused over the name Smooth Dog in his contacts, and he pressed the icon. Holding the phone to his ear, he listened to it ring a couple of times before it picked up. “It’s Collins. Line and location are secure.”
“Line and location are secure,” Captain Gerard Breckenridge echoed in turn. Patrick’s old team captain sounded on high alert, but if he was answering the phone, then it was safe to do so.
“Are you on leave?”
“Forty-eight hours R and R. I hear you’re in London.”
“Not the vacation I wanted. They sent us Spencer.”
“Dead Boy got the call up?”
“We’re dealing with the Orthodox Church of the Dead. I wanted decent backup.”
“Fair enough. I haven’t received new orders, so why are you calling?”
“Lucien is carrying the invitation to the auction. The Dominion Sect knows I’m in town, which means Lucien’s criminal contemporaries probably know as well. The auctioneer is fae, and I was hoping you or Órlaith had some artifacts with glamour we could use.”
Gerard made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Órlaith is in Dublin. I’ll see what we can do.”
