If there was a way he could save Eloise and keep the piece of the Morrígan’s staff out of Ethan’s hand, he’d do it, but it seemed like such an impossible task.
16
They atedinner Sunday evening closer to midnight, hours past their usual mealtime. Halfway home the drive had been interrupted by a conference call from the directors of the SOA and PIA that neither Patrick nor Nadine could ignore. Jono had kept his eyes on the road while listening in on a conversation he technically shouldn’t have been privy to.
The meetings hadn’t stopped, not even after they dropped Nadine off at Sage’s. Patrick had been stuck on video conferences for hours at home while Jono fielded calls and texts from outside packs who were still arriving. By the time Jono managed to get dinner going, Patrick was in danger of sliding out of his seat at the dining room table.
When Jono was ready to dish up their plates, Patrick had finally reached the end of his calls and was closing his laptop. Jono set an open beer bottle down next to him on the table. Patrick snatched it up and gulped down half the beer before he even said thank you.
Jono reached out and framed Patrick’s face with his hand, one thumb swiping over the dark circles that had come up beneath those green eyes. “You need some rest.”
Patrick hooked a finger through Jono’s belt loop. “So do you.”
“Dinner first, then bed.”
“I’m not going to fight you on that.” Patrick sighed heavily, leaning into Jono’s touch. “At least we have the National Guard being deployed, though I guess it was too much to hope they’d move in the Army.”
“You always say it would be terrible optics, having troops deployed on home soil like that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not opposed to having a tank or twelve on hand, especially if we’ll be facing soultakers.”
Jono pulled his hands away and snorted. “I’m betting everyone else was opposed.”
“Everyone who wasn’t Reed.”
Jono laughed tiredly. “Of course. Come on, let’s eat.”
He’d made steak and roasted vegetables, their fridge having been restocked by Sage while they were in Salem. It’d been a nice surprise to not have to go to the shops for a grocery run or order delivery when they couldn’t be sure whoever buzzed the call box wouldn’t be out to murder them.
They ate in silence, Patrick’s shields down now that they were home. Jono kicked out a leg underneath the table so he could tap his bare foot against Patrick’s. The touch was comforting, and dinner was hearty, but sleep was still a long way off when they were interrupted by a call.
“You’d think the government never bloody sleeps at this rate,” Jono muttered.
“It doesn’t,” Patrick said, picking up his mobile. “But it’s not Priya. It’s Casale.”
Jono waved his fork at Patrick. “Let’s see what he wants.”
Patrick accepted the call and put it on speakerphone, then went back to cutting up the last of his steak. “Collins. Line and location are secure.”
“I saw the news out of Salem. Are you back in the city?” Casale said, not even bothering with a hello.
“We’re home now.”
“Good. I’m on my way over with Angelina. We need to talk.”
Jono watched as Patrick rubbed tiredly at his face. As much as he wanted to wait until morning, they both knew time was in short supply. “All right. We’ll buzz you in when you arrive.”
Patrick ended the call and stabbed at his steak.
“If he’s bringing Angelina, I wonder if it’s coven related,” Jono said.
Patrick shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
They managed to finish their meal, and Jono was placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Patrick’s mobile went off again. Jono dialed up his hearing to listen in.
“Are you downstairs?” Patrick asked.
“Yes. Your gargoyles are making a mess,” Casale said.
