"Yes, I can, Mal. I would have never taken the money if I thought for a moment that Azriel would do anything to hurt us," Patrick answered. "Look, I know that I'm the fun guy, never giving a bloody hell about anything, but I care about this, and I know how to read people, and I'm telling you, that it's not a problem."
He snorted. "Yeah, you could act just like that, because that would prove you're so different. Wasn't that the threat? Wiping memories? But I'm betting my career that you are better than they are, that you can see past the bullshit."
Patrick moved and put his hands on Mal's shoulders. "Fuck ideals. You won't help werewolves with ideals. You'll need money, and I can tell you that most of the people that give to charity don't care about the causes. I can also tell you that most of the people my mother will tap won't give a damn about why we're doing nor do they like werewolves. If you take money only from those who care, we'll be out of business in months, but people that care are the ones who can't afford to give us the money."
He pulled back, and rested against the counter, hands crossed them in front of him, in a rare display of anger. "I'm not a child, and I'm not putting up with the games, Mal. I had enough of them. I'm doing this as an equal. If you want to act like Isaac, then I'm out."