Wade stuck his tongue out at her before shoveling another forkful of chow mein into his mouth.
Patrick pinched his nose, and Jono wanted to reach across the kitchen island to pull his hand away. “We need to stop Ilya from using the staff or handing it off to the god he worships. I don’t know if Ethan has a bargain with Peklabog, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he does. If he doesn’t, he’s going to try to make one. Which is why we’reallgoing to Paris.”
“You don’t even know where to start looking,” Carmen said with a faint curl of her lip.
Patrick dropped his hand away from his face, rubbing at the red mark there on his palm. Jono frowned. He’d noticed it last night before Patrick had left with Nadine to deal with the fallout of the auction, but had thought Patrick would’ve got it healed at the WSA.
“Summer solstice is happening soon. I don’t think it’s a matter of looking so much as they won’t be able to hide whatever they hope to do.”
Jono grimaced. “We’ve shit luck with solstices and equinoxes.”
“Guess we’ll have to work on that.”
“Don’t take that as a challenge.”
London had been a bloody mess. Jono had a sinking feeling Paris would be worse.
18
Gettingthrough Customs at the Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport on a Tuesday morning was a headache Patrick hoped not to repeat anytime soon. The scrutiny over his dagger took far longer than it had in London, and by the time his paperwork was cleared and his passport stamped, he’d been held up for almost an hour. At least when Patrick finally made it to the others at baggage claim, all their luggage had been retrieved.
Wade was eating his way through a box of Jaffa Cakes and looking like he needed to be fed again. Everyone else just looked tired.
“Are you still okay with us staying with you?” Patrick asked Nadine as he approached. “Or did you want us to find a hotel?”
“I don’t like the idea of us being separated,” Jono said, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
“It would be better if you stayed with me. I have room, and neither of our agencies will think much of you bunking at my home. Considering the potential property damage this case might have, it’ll be one less bill to pay,” Nadine said.
“I’m never the one who blows holes through buildings,” Patrick grumbled.
“Your entire case history with the SOA says otherwise.” Nadine grabbed the handle of her luggage and turned around. “Come on. Let’s get a taxi. I don’t feel like taking the train in, and the Ministry of Magical Affairs is expecting us in three hours.”
“No rental car?” Wade asked as he pried free another Jaffa Cake. The smell of orange and chocolate made Patrick weirdly hungry.
“I’ve only the permit for my car. It’s too much of a hassle otherwise to find parking where I live. You can take a taxi or the Metro to get around.”
Nadine tactfully didn’t mention why they’d have to travel around. Patrick wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the Paris god pack, not after the state they’d left the London god pack in. Rumors spread quick through the werecreature community, and less than twenty-four hours was more than enough time for packs in position of power to know something was wrong with a foreign counterpart.
People talked. Always. Reputation mattered, and the London god pack’s was in the gutter at this point, the same way Estelle and Youssef’s was. Resentful people made things worse. At the heart of the problem was a selfishness demons had exploited in different ways. Sin was impossible to get rid of completely, which meant demons would have their pick of souls to choose from. Patrick only hoped no more werecreatures turned up with a demon riding their soul.
They followed the signs to the taxi stand outside. Patrick’s French had never been the best, and he’d lost the knack for it over the years. Nadine was the one who gave the taxi attendant her address for the two taxis being waved forward. Jono and Wade handled all the luggage while the rest of them climbed into the vehicles. Jono slid in next to Patrick, buckling up as the driver pulled forward.
“Where does Nadine live?” Jono asked.
Patrick pulled at the seatbelt strap to settle it over his shoulder. “In the 8th arrondissement on the Right Bank. Her parents worked for the State Department, and she spent a lot of years in France. The apartment was theirs, but they deeded it to her before retiring to Nice.”
He’d been her guest only a couple of times since his discharge from the Mage Corps. Their schedules rarely lined up, and getting time off was difficult when the difference between taking a case or walking away could mean someone’s life.
The drive into central Paris was choked with morning traffic. Patrick was glad he wasn’t ultimately responsible for the fare cost when they finally turned down the street Nadine lived on. No trees lined the densely packed buildings, and cars were parked on only one side of the street. The taxis pulled to a stop in front of a set of green double doors. They got out, dragging their luggage across the sidewalk to the building’s entrance.
Nadine tapped in her passcode on the tiny security panel, buzzing them in. Her building thankfully had a small elevator, so even though it took them two trips with all the luggage, no one had to use the stairs.
“I have three rooms, but one is my office. Sage can sleep with me, the rest of you can sort yourselves out in the living room and guest room,” Nadine said as she led the way inside a sunny fourth-floor apartment that was stuffy from being locked up for the last week or so.
The threshold wrapped around the home pulsed gently against Patrick’s shields but welcomed them readily enough. The small credenza Nadine used for hospitality was empty of food and drink, but he knew she wouldn’t ask it of them.
The furniture and décor hadn’t changed much. The open-plan design meant the dining room and living room overlooked the street. Tall, wide windows opened out into tiny balconies that someone could stand on, but the view wasn’t much to look at. Nadine left her luggage by the couch to go unlock and open all the windows, letting a soft breeze waft through the home and clear out the musty air.
