“Can’t be worse than the one the Dominion Sect left behind. I’ll buzz you up.”
Jono remembered the last time Casale had entered their home and how it had ended with Patrick in handcuffs. “Hospitality?”
Patrick raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think Casale needs to enter by way of hospitality?”
“Because it’s safer.”
“He’s not here to arrest me.”
Patrick didn’t go for the bread and water when Casale and Angelina entered the flat, despite Jono’s preference. Casale wasn’t in uniform, and Angelina wore casual clothes and rain boots. They left their umbrellas in the small bucket on the landing, bringing the scent of the storm into the flat.
“It’s late,” Jono said. “What do you want?”
Patrick shot him an exasperated look before turning back to Casale. “Despite his attitude, Jono isn’t wrong. What brought you over here at this hour that couldn’t be asked over a phone call?”
“The mayor finally agreed to enact a curfew. It starts tomorrow. Can’t happen soon enough, according to Angelina.” Casale nodded at his wife. “We won’t keep you long, but she was told to speak with you in person.”
Jono eyed Angelina. She had been helpful when demons were stealing werecreature souls, but she was still one of Hera’s priestesses. “What’s wrong?”
Angelina frowned, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. “I’ve been contacted by representatives of other covens in the five boroughs. Everyone is aware that the nexus has been barricaded by the SOA. The reactionary storm is a pretty strong signal that something is going on here. The mayor’s office has been cagey about answers, and the news coming out of DC is cryptic at best. The covens want to know if your plans have changed any.”
Jono stayed quiet, letting Patrick take the lead on this. He’d answer for the packs and their alliances, but he had no authority where the government was concerned. The covens had been willing to lend their help to the fight when contacted over the last couple of weeks, but many had done so reluctantly.
“What has the mayor or your police brass told you?” Patrick asked Casale.
“Time off has been canceled. Every available officer is scheduled to report to work starting tomorrow. The orders are similar to when we have to police a large event like parades, but this isn’t a parade,” Casale said.
“It’s a parade to hell.”
Jono sighed. “Pat.”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “I can’t tell you anything different than what you already know. I don’t have the authority to disclose anything further. What Icantell you is it’s going to be worse than all the attacks that have happened here before. Tell your covens to strengthen their thresholds and stay within their designated areas to protect people when shit goes down like we discussed. If you have anyone you want to keep safe still in the city, you should maybe think about telling them to leave.”
Casale’s expression darkened, but it wasn’t anger Jono smelled wafting off him; it was fear. “You think it’s going to be that bad?”
Patrick tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, his heartbeat strong and even in Jono’s ears. “I think the Thirty-Day War is going to seem like a picnic if things go how I think they will.”
“Is that the federal government’s official stance?”
Patrick looked Casale in the eye. “It’s mine.”
“Ours,” Jono corrected. “We’ve brought in other packs from outside the city to bolster our numbers. Our alliances with the fae and the Night Courts means they’ll aid us. They’ll work with the covens.”
Casale raised an eyebrow. “The vampires are playing nice?”
“More like they’re playing to win.”
“We don’t want civilians running around and getting caught in the crossfire. But if you could spread the word to bolster thresholds and lay down some protective wards for anyone who doesn’t leave, that would be helpful. It’ll be a block-by-block fight whenever the Dominion Sect finally attacks. That hasn’t changed,” Patrick said.
“And if people ask where we got this information?” Angelina asked.
“There are enough rumors running around at the moment. People are primed to believe anything right now, so let them believe the rumors.”
Casale studied them for a long moment before finally nodding sharply, mouth set in a grim line. “We told our son to leave the city. He took a train out this morning.”
“He won’t be the only one after we put the word out,” Angelina said, reaching for Casale’s hand. “Those who stay will aid you, as promised. My high priestess commanded it for our coven, which is why I’m not going with our son.”
“Maybe you should find someone else to pray to,” Patrick said.
