Wake up. The elevator is here.
Spencer cracked his eyes open, looking down at where Fatima sat impatiently in the way of the elevator doors to keep them from closing. She hadn’t been visible in the aftermath while he’d dealt with the crime scene or on the drive back to Seattle. He was incredibly happy to see her and stooped down to pet her, relief overriding the ache in his muscles. Fatima met him halfway, rising up on her hind legs to push the top of her head into his palm.
He got in the elevator, jabbed at the button for the fourth floor, and leaned against the wall as it rose slowly. The building was older, which meant the elevator wasn’t that quick, but soon enough, he was lurching out of it onto his floor, making his way to the apartment.
Once Spencer crossed the threshold, a tension he hadn’t known was holding up his spine flowed out of him, and he nearly tripped over Fatima. She nimbly jumped out of the way, ears flicking back and forth.
Shower, then bed, she ordered.
Spencer was all for that.
He was sitting on the couch, fumbling at the knots on his laces, when a heavy knock on the front door made him freeze. Fatima sat up from her sprawl on the coffee table, face turned toward the door, ears pricked forward, but otherwise, she didn’t appear concerned. Spencer reached out with his magic, strengthening the threshold as he searched for the aura of whoever stood in the hallway.
He didn’t find one, which could only mean one person.
With a quiet groan, Spencer stood, leaving his holstered pistol on the coffee table, and went to answer the door. He undid the locks, yanked it open, and stared at Takoma standing in the hallway, the toes of the master vampire’s shoes millimeters from the border of the threshold that kept him out. Takoma was in a different outfit from the one he’d worn in the woods. Spencer didn’t want to think about why he’d needed to change clothes.
Takoma didn’t move, didn’t seem to breathe, as he waited outside the condo. Whatever it was that gave vampires their long, undead existence, it didn’t react well to a home’s threshold. Like magnets that repelled each other, a vampire could not enter a home protected by a threshold without being invited. One didn’t even need to be a magic user for it to work. Thresholds grew around homes, quiescent protection that never showed themselves unless faced with a threat like the one standing in the hallway.
Spencer knew he shouldn’t invite Takoma in—knew that breaking the threshold’s protection was a surefire way to give Takoma access to the one safe space he had in Seattle right now—but he didn’t mind the master vampire’s presence. Takoma was a threat, yes, but Spencer didn’t believe Takoma meant him harm.
For now.
And, well, an invite could be rescinded if needed.
“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked.
“What do you think?” Takoma’s eyes narrowed. “You still smell like blood.”
Spencer reached up to rub at his too-dry eyes. “I just got home.”
“Let me in.”
It wasn’t an argument he wanted to have this late. The neighbors didn’t need to know what he did for a living. “Get inside.”
Spencer stepped back, giving Takoma room to cross the threshold. The master vampire did so without any hesitation. The rise of power in the threshold pushed against Spencer’s magic but settled once it realized Takoma had permission to enter the home.
Takoma closed the door behind him, locking it without looking. “Take off the coat.”
Spencer made a face. “I was going to give it back.”
“You can keep it.”
Spencer must have been moving too slow because Takoma stepped behind Spencer and helped take the wool coat off his shoulders and down his arms. Spencer wriggled out of it, then rolled his shoulders, feeling the fabric of his shirt pull at the scabs on his back. Cool fingers touched the back of his neck, resting over the heat of a scrape.
“Bathroom,” Takoma said.
“My med-kit is still in my suitcase.”
Spencer retreated to the small bathroom, choosing to sit on the toilet rather than the edge of the bathtub. He leaned over, still determined to get his shoes off. He hadn’t gotten any further with the knots by the time Takoma arrived, carrying the small but well-stocked med-kit Spencer traveled with. He set it on the sink counter before crouching down in front of Spencer. Takoma carefully pulled Spencer’s hands away from the laces. “Sit up.”
Spencer sighed, wincing as he obeyed, shirt moving uncomfortably against his back. He watched as Takoma deftly undid the laces of his boots without needing to resort to cutting them, pulling off his shoes and socks and tossing them aside. His fingers were cold against the skin of Spencer’s ankles as they stared at each other for a long moment, the only sound between them being Spencer’s breathing.
“What did you do with the hunters?” Spencer asked.
Takoma’s lips quirked slightly. “What do you think?”
Spencer dragged a hand over his face, knowing that would be the answer but still annoyed he’d been right. He’d called Levi while at the scene in the woods to update the other agent about the attack. That was Spencer being a team player by handing off another headache so he could get more than a few hours of sleep tonight.
