“One who is liable to stab you in the back.”
“Pity they won’t take each other out. It still doesn’t tell us why they’re probably working together or what their goal is outside the possibility of territory.” The way Takoma’s lips twisted in annoyance made Spencer pause. “So itisabout territory?”
“It’s always about territory,” Wade yelled from the kitchen. Spencer wanted to ignore him, but he had a valid point.
“Rufus has been relegated to Spokane for over a century. He despises the constraints that keep his Night Court from expanding,” Takoma said.
“So he’s what? Shacking up with the Cascade Coven to take you out so he can take over the state? What does Caitlin get in return, then? It can’t be money. She has millions already on her own, to say nothing of her coven’s finances.”
Takoma shrugged. “What does any colonizer desire? Land and power.”
“Then why not go after the god packs? It’s what the hunters did in London. If you want power and reach, you go for the top, not some rural pack.”
Takoma’s lips curled disdainfully. “This is not London. We prefer anonymity here in the Pacific Northwest when it matters. There are things that sleep in the forests and mountains here that even Rufus will not cross.”
“And are you one of them?”
“My sire made me when the trees stood so tall you couldn’t see the sky through their branches. Just because the old forests are gone doesn’t mean the spirits are.”
Spencer dragged a hand through his hair, gaze falling on the damaged piece of the Ouroboros Mirror contained in his mageglobe. “The hell the Cascade Coven is trying to reach isn’t one your people believe in.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just more salt in an old, unhealed wound.”
Broken treaties and broken lives and generational trauma were the results of government policy when it came to this continent’s tribes. Takoma had done his best to claw back power in his own way, and there was no disputing the reach of his Night Court in these modern times. But anytime someone held power that others thought they shouldn’t, things got messy.
“I’m going to have to tell the deputy assistant SAIC that you’re a target,” Spencer said after a moment.
“I don’t need or want your government involved with my Night Court.”
“Takoma—”
“No.”
The hint of anger in Takoma’s voice made Spencer snap his mouth shut. They stared at each other for a few seconds before he finally gave a curt nod. “All right. No government assistance. For now.”
“Worried about me?” Takoma asked.
Spencer scoffed at that. “No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
He refused to acknowledge the way his face heated at that teasing. “I need to make some calls and write up my report about what happened tonight. It’s going to impact the search.”
As much as he wanted to find himself back underneath or on his knees for Takoma, his job needed to come first right now. He also didn’t really want to have sex with Wade one wall away. It was a surefire way to kill the mood.
“You might find some use for this.” Takoma pulled a flash drive from his pocket and offered it up to Spencer. “My people cracked the passcodes on the hunters’ cell phones. The raw data is all there, but I had my people funnel anything hot into a separate folder for you to look at first. The call log for the one who’d been in charge of that group lists Bradley’s number.”
Spencer picked up the flash drive, frowning at it. “The hunter in charge of Caitlin’s security?”
“Yes.”
“This is going to be real difficult to use based on how I obtained it. Are those hunters dead?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you like giving me a headache.”
Takoma smirked, reaching out to flick the collar of his button-down shirt. “I’ll send someone over tonight with a new coat. I’ll leave you to deal with your guest. I have business to attend to.”
