Wade glared at him before side-eyeing General Reed, who wasn’t paying any attention to them. “Fine.”
Patrick hoped Wade listened, but considering he’d shifted mass to fly from New York City to Washington, DC, on the basis of a text sent from Jono about what had happened, he had a feeling they’d find Wade where he shouldn’t be later.
Patrick moved past Priya and headed for the FBI agents with Jono by his side. He knew how an investigation like this would be run, having been on the other side of it for several years. He’d just never thought he’d be in the position of the grieving person left behind in the wake of an assassination that cut deeper than he thought it ever could.
Strange how you didn’t know what you’d lost until it was gone.
“Special Agent Patrick Collins, if you’ll follow me? Jonothon de Vere will be going with my partner,” the older man said.
Patrick followed where the agent led and found himself in a patient intake office where they could have some privacy. A hospital really wasn’t the best place to spearhead an investigation, but this was where Setsuna had been brought. This was where she had died. He hoped someone from the SOA had secured her body.
“My name is Gregory Miller,” the FBI agent said, pulling out his phone and holding it up. “I’ll need you to tell me what happened tonight. Are you okay with me recording it?”
“That’s fine.” Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and stared over the agent’s shoulder. “I came to DC to speak with the director of my agency about an ongoing case. We didn’t stay long. She was shot as we were leaving.”
“Did you see the shooter?”
“No. They used a long gun. Sniper rifle.”
“How do you know that?”
Patrick finally looked him in the eye, choking back anger. “I was a combat mage in the Mage Corps, as I’m sure you know if you saw the news over the summer. I know what kind of damage a gun like that can do. Besides, there wasn’t anyone on the street at the time but us, so it had to be a ranged shot.”
“Us being?”
“My partner, Jonothon de Vere.”
“No chance the assailant was hiding with the use of spells?”
“I wouldn’t rule it out, but it’s doubtful.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because most of the people targeting us are tainted by hell and use black magic, and I’m really fucking good at tracking that. Odds are it was a hunter or someone allied with the Dominion Sect who isn’t a magic user or carrying a demon in their soul.”
The FBI agent kept asking questions, and Patrick answered them to the best of his knowledge, but it was like someone else had control of his mouth. The feeling made his skin crawl, thinking about Andras, even though he knew it was simply a response to Setsuna dying. That didn’t stop the bitter ache inside from digging itself deeper.
The interview lasted nearly thirty minutes according to the clock on the wall in the office, though it felt longer to Patrick. The agent knew Patrick had to leave due to the problem at hand. He wasn’t being held as a murderer this time, only a witness, and with Reed present to vouch for his integrity, he wasn’t going to be hauled off in handcuffs.
“We’ll be in touch to continue where we left off,” Agent Miller said before leaving the room.
Patrick only had a few seconds to try to get himself under control before he had to face everyone outside the office. That timing got longer by virtue of the federal agent who slipped inside the office, bringing with him the crackle of ozone and weighty presence of a god.
“DC is never this exciting when you aren’t here,” Quetzalcoatl said as he kicked the door shut behind him.
Patrick scowled at the god. “I’m pretty sure the DEA doesn’t have jurisdiction over Setsuna’s murder.”
Quetzalcoatl smiled thinly at him. “The DEA doesn’t, but I do.”
Dark-haired and dark-eyed, the Aztec god made a living in the mundane world these days as a special agent for the Drug Enforcement Agency. He’d been something of an annoyance, if ultimately grudgingly useful, when it came to taking down Tremaine’s Night Court and keeping Tezcatlipoca at bay last year.
The DEA windbreaker he wore didn’t seem warm enough for the weather outside, but it helped Quetzalcoatl blend in. Patrick took a step back, though there wasn’t much space to move around in the small office.
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to give you a warning since it appears the rest of my cousins are busy.” Quetzalcoatl dragged the plastic chair away from the front of the desk and swung it around to sit in it. “The veil is getting thin.”
Patrick stared at him. “It’s not Samhain yet. I thought we still had time?”
