“I’ve a message to deliver. It’s what I do.”
“Try email next time. Or give us a ring.”
“So you can ignore me? Where’s the fun in that?” Hermes laughed, but he was the only one to do so. “Hera has a warning for you both.”
Patrick tensed in Jono’s arms. “Are she and Zeus returning?”
“They’re enjoying the summer in Santorini, but they still have ties here. The Crescent Coven will always pray to her.”
Hermes stepped closer, and Jono couldn’t stop the growl he let out. When the god reached for Patrick, Jono grabbed his wrist and didn’t let go, ignoring the electric shock to his body the touch brought on.
“Don’t,” Jono growled.
Hermes twisted his wrist, easily breaking the hold. When he turned his hand around again, tiny, dried-out white blossoms were piled on his palm. Patrick sucked in a sharp breath, apparently recognizing the remnants of flowers Hermes poured into Patrick’s lap.
“The cardinal points were overrun with blossoms before they had the life sucked out of them, and it is not our doing. Someone else is interfering with the flora on this island. The parks think it is winter when it is summer.”
“What are those?” Wade asked right before he sneezed, nose tucked into the bend of his elbow. “Ugh. Smells like magic.”
Patrick touched one of the flowers with a fingertip, frowning at them. “They’re cliff roses. Hermes gave me a bunch last summer as an apology bouquet. Bushes of them started growing out of the ground in areas where we placed Greek coins to contain Ethan’s spell.”
“It wasn’t an apology bouquet,” Hermes said.
Patrick ignored him. “Prospect Park carried some strange magic inside it when I went to investigate Youssef’s murder scene. I didn’t think anything of it since it had nothing to do with the murder.”
“Are you certain about that? The cliff roses were made with magic, created to be unobtrusive. They no longer are. Brooklyn could’ve been another target.”
“What do you want me to do about it? The SOA took my gun and badge. I can’t investigate anything right now, and we have our own problems, in case you didn’t notice.”
“We are aware of what is going on.”
“Yeah? Then who was it that freed me from jail? Because I was charged with murder, and getting released with a charge like that never happens.”
“You are useless to us if you are locked up. Maat agreed to ensure your continued freedom,” Urðr said through Marek.
Patrick froze. Jono curled his arm around the other man to flatten his hand over Patrick’s heart, feeling scar tissue through the thin fabric of his sleeping shirt.
“Which god is that?” Jono asked quietly.
Hermes rocked back on his heels, gaze half-lidded. “Egyptian.”
Jono tightened his hold on Patrick, knowing how he felt about that pantheon being attacked and used during the Thirty-Day War. The flash of bitter guilt that washed through Patrick’s scent made Jono press down on his chest harder.
Jono glared at Hermes. “Are you done playing errand boy?”
“For now.”
Hermes took a step back and disappeared through the veil as only a god could. The sharp scent of ozone faded with his exit, as did the all-encompassing white of Marek’s eyes. He slumped forward in his chair, holding up his head with both hands as he groaned.
“Fuck,” Marek muttered, expression twisted with pain.
“I’m sorry,” Patrick said.
“It’s not your fault I’m a seer.”
Sage turned in her seat and placed her hand on the back of Marek’s neck. “Do you need Victoria?”
Marek swallowed loudly. “Yeah.”
