The kettle started to whistle, and he pulled it off the burner, pouring the hot water into a mug for Jono’s tea to steep. Patrick had become an expert over the years at making tea for Jono and no longer used a microwave. He still thought coffee was superior, but Patrick liked the ritual these days of making tea for Jono.
“Here,” he said once he made it back to the bedroom, holding out the steaming mug. “Your favorite twig water.”
Jono laughed, rolling onto his back before sitting up, the sheets pooling around his waist. At thirty-seven, Jono still carried muscle definition Patrick liked to explore with his mouth. They had a home gym on the ground floor of the building, adjacent to the garage and accessible by the building’s elevator. Jono used it more than Patrick, but he still carved out time to exercise, preferring cardio over the weight training that Jono indulged in.
“Ta, love,” Jono said, taking the mug from him.
Patrick sat on the edge of the bed, sipping at his coffee. “What’s going on in Queens?”
“Border dispute because of a business license. Someone wants to buy space in another pack’s territory. Need to sort it out.”
“At least it’s not Night Court related.”
“I’d be taking the meeting after dark if that were the case.”
They had firm treaties with every Night Court in the five boroughs delineating pass-through rights and more. There’d been few upheavals between werecreatures and vampires since the Battle of Samhain. It helped that the mother of all vampires had a soft spot for Patrick, even if he hadn’t seen her in a few years. Ashanti was traveling the world again, no longer dust in the desert, and Patrick could only be happy about that.
New York City was as quiet as a major metropolitan area could be more than half a decade after the threat of the end of the world came to its streets. Patrick wasn’t ever going to be unhappy about that.
Jono reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers togetherbefore bringing both to his mouth. He kissed Patrick’s knuckles, lips dry and warm. “Best get going. You’ll be late otherwise.”
Patrick sipped at his coffee, in no hurry to move. “A few more minutes won’t hurt.”
It was nice to be able to spend time together in the morning. It’d taken some years to get to this point, but at thirty-six, Patrick had finally learned to savor the quiet moments. Living with Jono had helped with that.
When they finished their drinks, Patrick offered a kiss and a casual “I’ll come back.”
He left Jono to get ready for the day and took the small elevator down to the garage, where his Mustang was parked. Getting to downtown Manhattan from Tribeca was a lot easier than if they’d taken up residence in the traditional territory god packs before them had held in the Upper Manhattan neighborhood of Hamilton Heights.
The dozens of homes Uptown were where the rest of the god pack resided, overseen by Linh Nguyen, who’d settled into a role of leadership behind Wade’s position in the pack with ease over the last few years. Patrick had first met her after his return from beyond the veil six months after the Battle of Samhain ended, but he’d grown to like her steady loyalty and sly humor.
It made it easier for Patrick to continue taking retainers as an expert witness for the SOA. Most of the cases he worked on were venued in the Southern District of New York or out of Washington, DC. Sometimes he ended up sitting in courtrooms in other states, but SOA Director Priya Kohli tried not to attach him to cases outside New York too often. She was aware that Patrick could say no, and he had in the past, but he was still one of the best experts in the field despite his age. His experience spoke for itself.
The SOA field office in Downtown Manhattan hadn’t sustained too much damage during the Battle of Samhain, but it’d still needed repairs. It’d taken nearly a year, and during that time, the skyline of Manhattan had been full of construction cranes, detours everywhere, but New Yorkers had weathered the cleanup with pride.
Patrick greeted the security guards at the lobby’s reception deskwith an easy “Good morning” as he checked in. He got his visitor’s badge and draped the metal chain around his neck before being beeped through the security turnstile that now blocked the way to the elevator bank.
Midmorning and the lobby wasn’t bustling, most of the agents already clocked in for a Thursday workday upstairs, if they weren’t already in the field. Patrick didn’t need an escort—he knew the building well enough, and Henry saw no need to greet him until he reached the upper floors—but his access was restricted since he was no longer employed by the SOA. The security guard had called the elevator for him, and Patrick took the one he’d been directed to, the doors sliding open with a soft ping.
Patrick shifted the strap of his messenger bag holding the case files with his notes, watching the electronic floor numbers flicker across the small screen as the elevator ascended. It finally slowed on the twenty-fifth floor, opening onto a maze of cubicles and hallways leading away to offices on the outskirts. A receptionist desk was positioned prominently outside the elevator bank, and the woman seated there flashed him a quick smile.
“Welcome back, Patrick,” Tori said. She was about a decade older than him and preferred a vintage sort of look with her clothes and cat-eye glasses. Tori handled communication and records research for the floor she was on, and she was usually the first person he saw when arriving in the SOA proper for these kinds of meetings.
“Hi, Tori. How late am I?” Patrick asked.
“About ten minutes” was her cheerful reply.
Patrick sighed. “Cross-town traffic was terrible.”
“That’s what you always say. But if I was married to a man like the one you have at home, I’d hate to leave him, too.”
“We’re not married.”
“Still a good excuse.” She locked her computer and pushed her chair back, getting to her feet. “Come on. I’ll take you to the conference room. Everyone else is already there, including the rebuttal expert.”
Patrick frowned. That was the first he’d heard of another witnessbeing brought on board. Usually, his testimony was more than enough. “Rebuttal expert? No one told me they needed that.”
Tori shrugged, clearly not bothered with something outside her pay grade. “You can take it up with the attorneys. He arrived a little before you.”
