“It’s not safe for her to go outside,” Madelyn protested.
“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Brittany said, already hurrying for the front door before anyone could hold her back.
Patrick ignored everyone as he automatically started dialing Setsuna’s number and then swore when he realized what he was doing, grief sticking in the back of his throat so suddenly he could practically taste it. Canceling the call with a stab of his thumb, he called General Reed instead.
“Collins? What’s going on?” Reed grunted.
“I’m in Salem. The Dominion Sect has Eloise Patterson. Loki was impersonating her for who the fuck knows how long. We got attacked by the Sluagh, but the Wild Hunt ran them off,” Patrick said, sparing no detail because there wasn’t any point in mincing words, and Reed believed in gods. The Patterson family had borne witness to the messy truth, and there was no hiding it anymore. “No casualties, but there’s no goddamn way you can hide the fight that just happened, sir.”
The heavy silence that settled on the line lasted long enough that Patrick pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure he still had signal in the reactionary storm howling outside. It was long enough that Brittany returned, soaking wet, with the duffel bag in hand. Jono took it from her with a nod of thanks before ducking into the hall bathroom to get dressed.
“I’ll inform the joint task force. Do you think Salem is Ethan’s focus and not New York City because of this?” Reed finally said.
Patrick chewed the inside of his bottom lip for a couple of seconds before answering. “No. I think New York City is still where his spellcasting will happen, but they focused here because of the Pattersons.”
“You’re sure they have Eloise? That she’s alive?”
“I don’t know if she’s still alive. Ethan’s never been one to take hostages. He tends to murder everyone instead.”
Someone made a choked-off sound, and Nadine huffed out an irritated sigh as she straightened up from her hunched-over position. “You’re still shit when it comes to dealing with people, Collins.”
Patrick made a face at her, still talking to Reed. “I need to call Director Kohli.”
“Keep me updated,” Reed ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
Patrick ended the call right as someone pounded on the front door. “SOA! Open up!”
Nadine stood, letting the towel drop from her shoulders as she fumbled her badge out of her back pocket. “I’ll handle your fellow agents. Call your acting director.”
Patrick watched as she headed down the hall, only pausing long enough to take the potion vial from Easton when he came down the stairs and down it in one swallow. Patrick dialed Priya’s personal cell phone rather than an office line since it was still the weekend. He knew she was probably working like all the rest of them, but there was no guarantee she’d be at her desk.
“SOA Acting Director Kohli,” Priya said when she answered.
“Ma’am, we have a problem,” Patrick said, pulling his badge from his pocket in preparation to prove his identity.
He updated her as succinctly as possible, watching as SOA agents entered the home, weapons drawn and magic at their fingertips, to take stock of the situation. Patrick raised his badge for them to see, most of his attention on the conversation at hand. Police arrived minutes after Jono left the bathroom, fully dressed save for shoes, and the home was quickly becoming crowded.
The only time Patrick broke away from the conversation with Priya was when one of the police officers tried to get Jono to leave to take his statement. He tilted the phone away from his mouth and said, “He’s not going with you.”
The officer frowned at him. “We need—”
“The SOA is taking lead. You don’t need to do anything except what we tell you.”
The officer bristled, and Priya sighed in his ear. “That isn’t going to endear us to the local law enforcement, Collins.”
“Ask me if I care.” Patrick glared at the officer. “Jono’s giving his report to the SOA, not you. So back off.”
The officer turned his back on Patrick, irritation clear in the line of his shoulders, but Patrick put the man out of his mind and continued his conversation with Priya. By the end of the call, longer than the one with Reed, Patrick had his marching orders.
“Are we staying or going?” Nadine asked.
“The SOA is sending a team from the Rapid Response Division out of Boston. They’ll get here in less than an hour and take over. We need to stay and hold the scene until they arrive for the handoff, and then we’re free to go back to New York,” Patrick said as he put his phone away.
“What about us? What about our mother?” Grant demanded from where he stood behind the couch, hands gripping the top of it so tightly his knuckles were white.
“You knew that person wasn’t her. How did you know that?” Madelyn asked.
