Cool magic crawled down to his fingertips and up his arm, spanning across his body. It slid over his skin and shields, adhering itself to his body and aura with a tenacity that made him want a shower. Patrick shoved aside that desire and looked up from his hand to meet Carmen’s shrewd gaze.
“Curious toy. Where did you get it?” Carmen asked.
“Does it matter? Just tell me we look like someone else,” Patrick said.
“You sound like someone else as well.”
“That’s the point of glamour.”
“You’ll pass as someone else so long as you stay shielded and don’t use your magic. I can’t see your true form beneath it.” Carmen’s gaze slid toward Spencer, and her smile widened ever so slightly. “Spencer. Where is your companion?”
“Around,” Spencer replied vaguely. “Fatima will meet us at the auction. Where’s Lucien?”
Carmen chuckled throatily. “Around.”
Patrick elbowed Spencer in the side and looked at him, surprised to see the face of a dark-haired man who could have walked a fashion runway in lieu of Spencer’s familiar features.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you make a terrible blond,” Spencer said, eyeing Patrick.
He rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”
“You remember your roles?” Carmen asked.
“Favored human servants.”
“Don’t forget your place. Be silent. Be adoring. Don’t interfere.”
The idea of needing to get up close and personal with some vampires and pretend they were everything Patrick could ever want wasn’t how he wanted to spend his evening. But he’d gone through worse to get the job done before, and it wasn’t like Lucien was demanding he take shine. Some things would be a deal breaker, but pretending he liked the master vampire for a mission wasn’t one.
Patrick couldn’t orient himself on London’s twisted streets, but the GPS on his phone told him they were driving east. The lights of bars and restaurants flashed by as they drove, traffic still heavy despite the late hour.
Patrick sensed the magic before they got within view of Smithfield Market. The undercurrent of black magic was subtle, difficult to detect if one wasn’t searching for it. Patrick’s soul and magic honed in on the taint even through his shields. He swallowed against the bitterness that erupted in the back of his throat, grimacing at the taste. Not sure what they were driving into, he cast a silence ward through the frame of the car. Carmen glanced at him over her shoulder but didn’t order him to remove it.
He hoped if they were followed, the London Night Court had waylaid whatever werecreatures were assigned tonight. Patrick didn’t think they’d have to worry too much about the London god pack until they turned down a street and the overwhelming recognition of werecreature coursed through his magic.
“I thought you said the London Night Court was going to keep werecreatures off our six?” Patrick asked, staring at the men and women fanned out on the sidewalk as the SUVs slowed to a stop.
“The London god pack is handling security for tonight,” Carmen said.
“Fucking hell.” Patrick pulled out his phone to send a warning text message on the group chat to the rest of his pack. “What’s their perimeter?”
“Why do you think I would know that when we aren’t in charge of this auction?”
“They won’t be able to smell anything through Nadine’s shields. Everyone should be safe in the car,” Spencer said.
“Safe is relative,” Patrick muttered.
Carmen retrieved a compact out of her Gucci clutch and checked her makeup. “Leave your phones. Electronics aren’t allowed inside for buyers, only the auction staff.”
“You couldn’t have told us thatbeforewe left the hotel?” Patrick added that warning to his message, sent the text off, and then turned off his phone. Spencer did the same. “You better have someone guarding your vehicles.”
Patrick took down the silence ward with a silent command, and the dull chatter of voices beyond the vehicle filtered back in. A tall figure came around and opened the side door. Einar extended his hand to Carmen, helping her out of the vehicle. The silk dress she wore was slit all the way to her hips on both sides. Her black stilettos were knife-sharp at the tip, but Patrick thought he might be the only one who noticed that detail.
Patrick and Spencer exited the SUV, and Patrick nearly tripped over Fatima, who wound through their legs the second he got feet on the ground. He bit back a curse, glaring down at her. Her ocelot form hadn’t changed, and everyone around them didn’t so much as glance her way. He wondered what they saw, if they even noticed her at all. Patrick knew she could appear however she liked to people, as most spirits could.
The werecreatures standing on the sidewalk drew closer before freezing when Lucien finally exited the lead vehicle. Patrick had thought he’d dress up a little nicer for the auction, but Lucien had stuck with his ripped jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket pierced through with metal spikes. It was his reputation that would carry him through the doors, and that’s what mattered most.
Patrick glanced at Spencer, who stared at Lucien and very obviously licked his lips. Patrick sidled closer and subtly stepped on Spencer’s foot, shooting him a pointed look. He couldn’t voice the warning to not fuck the vampire because of all the prying ears around them, but he thought he got his point across when Spencer rolled his eyes.
