“You don’t have any magic.”
Wade hummed. “Glamour doesn’t work on me.”
He could always see right through it to what was hidden underneath. Magic made his skin itch if it was strong enough for him to even notice it. Mostly, he didn’t, unless someone waslobbing military-level attack spells his way. Then he just got annoyed.
Ella closed the laptop and watched him flip through what little her pack had managed to find out about Niall around the magical restrictions placed on them. It wasn’t anything like the dossiers Patrick sometimes came home with or the legal brief and evidence Sage worked on. It was lacking solid information, probably because Ella and the rest of her god pack couldn’t talk about Niall. Fae and their magic were insidious that way, all twisty when it came to reading between the lines of what was said and what was meant.
“Do you know where he likes to hang out?” Wade asked.
Ella eyed him dubiously. “Sorry, but you don’t look like you’d fit into the places Niall likely haunts. He doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to go to a local bar and watch the Red Sox or Bruins play. His net worth is probably in the multimillions. He’s a burgeoning hotelier, as far as our research shows.”
Wade wasn’t impressed. Marek was a billionaire, and he was pack through Sage. Wade was well versed in the kind of money that could buy a small country as opposed to a single hotel building. “I wasn’t asking if I?—”
A loud banging on the front door had Ella’s head snapping around, eyes narrowing. Her nostrils flared, and Wade drew in a breath as well. Something like sea salt hit the back of his throat, making him think of the ocean. The house wasn’t close enough to the harbor to see the water, much less smell it, which meant whoever was on the porch wasn’t mundane human.
Footsteps thundered on the second floor before clattering down the stairs. Ella stood, her chair nearly toppling over. “Stay here.”
She darted away with preternatural speed. Wade easily tracked her exit and gave it, oh, thirty seconds before he got up and made his way down the hall to the front door. Theargument happening across the threshold probably wasn’t one they should’ve been having so openly, but when tempers were high, people never thought rationally.
Other members of the Boston god pack stood with Ella in the front hall, ready to back her if the argument turned into a fight. Wade couldn’t see who was on the front porch, but he could clearly make out the anger in their faintly Boston-accented voice. A jolt of recognition shot through him as Wade realized he knew one of the voices.
“—want to speak with your alphas right now,” Riordan snarled.
“They’re unavailable,” Ella replied with all the icy politeness a Southern belle could give. “You coming here like this could be construed as trespassing.”
Riordan let out a sharp laugh. “You think I want your territory? Nah, lass. It doesn’t come with oceanfront property. Casey came intomyclan’s territory last night playing attack dog for a bastard, and that means your pack owes us a damn explanation.”
Ella drew in a sharp breath before saying, “I will let you inside if you take hospitality. If you decline, this conversation is over.”
“We’ll keep our word.”
Two people stepped into the home, both of them tall and dark-haired, similar enough in looks they had to be related. Wade’s attention latched onto Riordan, the same fae who had tried to dissuade him from interacting with the Unseelie fae at the dessert table during Gerard’s wedding.
He’s still hot.
It was unfair how ridiculously good-looking Riordan was, especially in the leather jacket he wore today. Wade had thought he was over mourning the fact he’d never thought to ask for Riordan’s phone number, and yet, here the fae was, waltzingback into Wade’s life to tease him. It just sucked that he was arguing with Ella because that put him on the opposite side of Wade.
Then Wade’s phone rang, making him jump. He quickly turned his back on everyone in the hallway, digging his phone out of his pocket. Patrick’s name came up on the caller ID, and Wade knew better than to not answer.
“Hey,” Wade said in a low voice, stretching out the word as he retreated back to the dining room with quick strides. “People can hear you.”
“Line and location not secure? Got it,” Patrick said.
“Pretty much.”
“I’m on the way to the airport. Are you somewhere safe, at least?”
Wade scratched at the back of his head and made a face down at the folders on the table before sliding over to the kitchen island and the bag of Oreos there, left woefully unattended. “Uh, sure.”
“That lacked conviction.”
Wade unfolded the bag and slid the carton out, pleased to see at least half the Oreos were left. It would be a travesty if they got stale. Really, he’d be doing everyone a favor if he ate them. “I’m at the Boston god pack’s home.”
“Who’s having a row?” Jono asked from the background on Patrick’s side of the line, clearly eavesdropping.
Wade heard him perfectly fine, even without Jono being on the phone. “Some fae just showed up.”
“What?” Patrick said sharply.
