Takoma looked the same as he had during the madness of that fight across Manhattan to stop Ethan Greene from turning their world into a new hell two years ago. His black hair was done up in two braids that fell over his shoulder, the sharp features of his face just as memorable now as they were back then. The dress shirt he wore was missing a tie and open at the collar, showing off a black leather cord and a delicately etched gold coastal orca pendant. A slow, knowing smile revealed jagged fangs that Spencer did not want to feel against his throat.
Really.
He could hear a little voice in the back of his head that sounded uncannily like Nadine telling himdon’t fuck with the vampire, and don’t fuck them either.
Takoma raked his gaze up and down Spencer in an assessing way. “Where is the psychopomp?”
Spencer blinked guilelessly at him, keeping the drink tray between them. “What psychopomp? I think you have me mistaken for someone else.”
Those dark eyes narrowed, gaze sharpening in a way Spencer remembered from the streets of Manhattan when they were surrounded by drekavacs and other zombies and all Takoma had seen was prey.
Spencer felt very much like prey right about then.
“I think I need a drink,” Takoma said.
Rather than take a champagne glass, he took Spencer by the arm, ignoring his squawk of protest. “Hey!”
“Be quiet if you don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.”
The words were said in a low voice, the warning in Takoma’s tone clear as the day the master vampire never saw anymore. His grip was one flex away from bruising, but Spencer still tried to pull away. “Let go ifyoudon’t want to make a scene.”
Takoma dropped his hand but remained so close their arms brushed. The presence of the master vampire was more than enough to keep anyone from approaching for a drink refill. Takoma led him deeper into the museum, looking for privacy Spencer knew he wouldn’t find.
Spencer’s gaze flicked toward the ceiling of the empty gallery Takoma finally took him to, the light dimmer there due to the delicate-looking books on display. “There are cameras everywhere.”
“Adler doesn’t care if we feed off the hired help,” Takoma said nonchalantly. “She uses it as an excuse to try to banish us from her next party. It never works.”
Spencer knelt and set the drink tray on the floor rather than risk activating a protective ward by setting it on a glass display case. “Are you and Caitlin close?”
“No. The museum is public space, and she can’t kick me out when it’s in my territory.”
“Something tells me she’s tried in the past.”
Takoma smirked, watching as Spencer straightened up. “Her grandfather tried. His wife learned to always offer my Night Court an invitation to these things after she buried what was left of him.”
“No love lost between you and their coven, I take it?”
“Why are you here, mage?”
Spencer raised a finger. “Ah, ah, I have a name.”
“You were insistent I not use it. Considering you’re skulking about where you shouldn’t, I have to wonder why.”
“It’s really not your business.”
“Everything in this city is my business.”
Spencer spread his fingers wide as Takoma took a step forward, leaning against his palm. He didn’t reach for his magic, not wanting to piss off the master vampire, who’d watched his six and done his best to keep Spencer alive in a fight at the end of the world. He sort of owed the guy for that.
Takoma didn’t bleed heat through the fabric of his dress shirt like a living person would. He was cool beneath Spencer’s hand, alive through blood magic and the will of his mother, who had brought her kind into existence ages ago. Spencer blinked, let his sight slide sideways for a handful of seconds as he looked at Takoma.
Unlike the living, vampires had no soul, no aura spilling out of their skin. Takoma was a black hole to his sight, a shadow walking through the souls around them. Spencer blinked his vision back to normal, staring into Takoma’s face, which was much closer than it had been before.
“I’m here on a case,” Spencer finally said.
Takoma tilted his head to the side. “I thought the PIA handled international issues, not domestic ones.”
Spencer smiled tightly. “I’m no longer with the PIA.”
