A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,88
my client with anything, then we’re done here.”
Mathys gestured for Westberg to precede him out of the room. Patrick didn’t bother calling them back. He gathered up the photograph and sorted it back into the file. He carried the documents out of the room with him. A junior agent was seeing Westberg and Mathys out, but since Patrick was heading up to see SAIC Andrew Dabrowski, they all had to wait for the elevators for an uncomfortable minute.
Patrick’s came first, and he took it up, stopping at a couple of floors along the way to let other people off. Despite it being late in the afternoon on a Saturday, Dabrowski hadn’t gone home. He’d stayed after the backlash on the ley lines to coordinate the SOA’s response to the threat. Patrick didn’t have to resort to a phone call, merely knocked on the already open door before heading into the SAIC’s office.
“Westberg and his lawyer left. They claim his whereabouts can be accounted for in the last two weeks. He missed an event last week that was rescheduled for this week. It’ll be interesting what excuse he comes up with,” Patrick said.
Dabrowski frowned. He looked better than he had earlier but still tired. “We’ve notified the attorney general’s office about what’s happened. Considering the other case in the pipeline, we couldn’t keep this information from them.”
“Too bad we couldn’t keep it from the news.”
“Or your fight with hellhounds in Lincoln Park. I heard you declined a ride to the hospital.”
Patrick rubbed at the back of his neck, the twinge he’d felt there after the car accident gone thanks to a healing potion. “I didn’t need to be held up in a hospital when a potion from one of your witches here worked just fine. The wreck wasn’t that bad.”
“If you’re sure, though I’m concerned about the Dominion Sect targeting you twice now.”
Patrick tried not to laugh. “Maybe they just don’t like me.”
Dabrowski rolled his eyes. “It’s a problem if they’re targeting SOA agents.”
“I fought them in the Thirty-Day War. They’re terrible with grudges.”
“I’d offer you a temporary partner to watch your back, but the director said it wasn’t necessary.”
Patrick would’ve fought him on that offer if Dabrowski had gone through with it. “I’m used to handling my cases alone. I’ll be fine, sir.”
“Chicago might not be,” Dabrowski drawled.
“I’ll do my best not to allow demons to scratch the Bean again.”
“It’s ugly. I might look the other way if you do.” Dabrowski sighed and leaned back in his chair, causing the leather to squeak. “We have witches in Lincoln Park working through the addresses affected from being within the radius of the spell’s epicenter. Everyone’s souls should be cleansed by tomorrow morning. If we miss anyone, we’re telling them to call a support number rather than going to a hospital to keep contamination to a minimum.”
“Want me to get Legal to work on subpoenas for Westberg’s itinerary?”
“Send in the request, and have them work with the AG’s office. I have a feeling we’ll need to move faster on the rent payment by way of souls case. See if you can’t track down Westberg’s campaign manager.”
Considering Patrick was pretty damn certain Kristen was Hel, he wasn’t looking forward to that. “Right. Anything else?”
“Get it to stop snowing.”
Patrick snorted. “I have zero affinity for weather magic. Sorry, you’re stuck.”
Dabrowski waved him off. “Report in when you find something. I’m going to be living at the office this weekend it feels like.”
Patrick left the SAIC’s office, intent on stopping by his borrowed one to update his report before heading back to the hotel. He didn’t pay any attention to the other agent that got into the elevator with him until they spoke.
“Fancy meeting you here, Pattycakes.”
Patrick’s head snapped up, and he stared in disbelief at where Hermes lounged against the other side of the elevator, dressed in a generic suit, but still sporting his dyed curls. They were a neon orange tipped in fire truck red this time, ensuring he’d stand out in a crowd. Patrick assumed a lot of magical misdirection went into no one in the SOA building seeing the non-regulation hair color.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Patrick said.
Hermes wiggled his fingers at Patrick. “My job, Pattycakes. I hope you’re hungry because I’m here to take you to dinner.”
“I’m not eating with you.”
“You’re mistaken. I’m not the one you’re having dinner with. That would be Persephone.”
Patrick went cold. The thought of facing the goddess who owned his soul debt was not