“I was promised dinner for dressing up in this ridiculous outfit,” Spencer muttered, conjuring up a mageglobe and casting a quick silence ward to wrap them in a bubble of privacy.
Takoma shifted against him, turning so he could fully face Spencer. He reached out for the lapels of the coat, pulling Spencer closer with a firm tug. Spencer went because he knew they probably still had eyes on them. “I like the shirt.”
“The fur coat is a little much, right?”
Takoma didn’t exactly agree, but he did tug at the lapels again, dragging the fur coat off Spencer’s shoulders and halfway down his arms, pinning them to his side. Cool fingers slid beneath the open collar of his sheer button-down, sharp nails digging into the skin over his collarbone. “It’s fun to strip you out of.”
Spencer made a face, remembering Haitao’s words from the lobby. “They don’t seem the type to pay for the show. I also never signed up to play tug-of-war between two Night Courts. You owe me.”
“And what payment would you require for your collaboration?” Spencer told himself he wasn’t going to say anything, but he couldn’t stop the way his gaze dropped for a split second to Takoma’s mouth. The master vampire smiled slowly, a knowing look in his dark eyes. He leaned in, mouth hovering over Spencer’s as he spoke. “I hope you had no plans after dinner.”
Spencer drew in a sharp breath, heat coursing through him despite the cold wind coming off the bay. “What if I did?”
“You’ll change them.”
The casual assurance of the statement was enough to make Spencer want to close the scant distance between them, but he was too aware of the security cameras and the part he needed to play for the SOA if the video feed ever got into law enforcement hands. He was playing around with too many undercover roles as it was, lying through omission in ways that weren’t going to hold up for very much longer.
Lying to himself, as well, when it came to Takoma.
“You never struck me as the kind of guy to sit at a table and negotiate,” Spencer said.
“I’ve learned over the years that if you don’t sit at the table, you’ll never know what promises the other side is prepared to break.”
Spencer really couldn’t fault him for believing no one would keep their word, considering the history of his people. “So you won’t be murdering them over dinner? Good to know.”
“Death is too kind for the likes of Adler.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Spencer swayed forward slightly, pressing into Takoma’s hands. “The SOA is trying to keep the charges for the hunter in custody sealed to give us a little more time, but the clock is ticking. He’s already talked to his lawyer. Caitlin may not know I’m SOA yet, but that could quickly change. How do you want to play this?”
“She’s here tonight to talk about your supposed transgression on their property.”
“And Rufus?”
“Here at her coven’s request for advice.”
“And he’s not dead because why?”
“I don’t want the media focus at this time.”
“You don’t seem surprised about their partnership.”
“Her ancestors have worked with Rufus before. They don’t have an alliance, merely an understanding bought with money and magic and political interference. The hunters are an issue I will address with Adler, and I’ll demand compensation from Rufus for his vampire’s audacity in the forest.” Takoma reached up and gripped Spencer’s chin, keeping him still and close. “I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”
Takoma’s thumb rested against Spencer’s bottom lip, and it took everything in him not to lick it. “You think I’m yours?”
Spencer’s head was pushed up, back, baring his throat. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Technically not by choice, but they both knew if Spencer didn’t want to be there, he wouldn’t be.
Takoma pulled his hand away, fingernails skimming across Spencer’s skin, the touch electric. Spencer didn’t fight when Takoma deftly divested him of the fur coat, slinging it over one shoulder. He shivered a little from the cold breeze as he drew down his magic, sound coming back as the mageglobe disappeared. Takoma escorted Spencer back into the restaurant, taking a moment to pass the fur coat off to a hovering waitstaff before they headed to the private dining room.
Despite the restaurant being empty, the adjacent dining area, with its long table and views of the bay and nearby buildings through a floor-to-ceiling window, provided an extra layer of privacy. The long table was angled so that one side ran parallel to the window, and despite the view of the bay, Spencer couldn’t appreciate it because all he could think about was a hunter with a long gun. He couldn’t quite hide his grimace when he realized the seats they were supposed to take kept his back to the windows.
Sixteen seats were spaced around the table, the sides clearly drawn, with the Cascade Coven and Spokane Night Court facing off with the Seattle Night Court. Several magic users and vampires from each group chose to stay standing near their respective people. It seemed trust was in short supply.
Spencer flexed his fingers, wondering if Takoma would want him to add a silence ward and some protective wards to the mix, but figured the vampires wouldn’t appreciate not being able to hear any oncoming threats. He was tempted to apply the protective wards anyway, just to allay his own PTSD carried off the battlefield.
Takoma and Spencer took the last pair of empty chairs, finding themselves seated directly across from Caitlin, the sorceress’ attention a weighty thing, and Rufus, who only had eyes for Spencer. That skin-crawling feeling hadn’t faded, but he ignored the other master vampire in favor of smiling blandly at Caitlin, steeling himself for an evening of lies.
