“She’s a target like all of you,” Wade said.
Donal leaned against the kitchen island, thankfully out of Riordan’s way. “You really think that’s true?”
“Niall is going after the leaders of the preternatural and supernatural communities in Boston. You and your clan hold the shoreline and the sea, and she’s got everything else. He’d be stupid to try to control you and not her. If he wants Boston, he’d have to go through Lady Caith as well.”
“That’s suicide,” Saoirse said flatly.
“Why?”
“Because the last person who tried to go against her had their body strewn in tiny pieces across the entire path of the Freedom Trail walking tour. The police were bagging evidence for weeks.”
Riordan watched Wade bite into a tortilla chip. “Huh. Well, Niall’s probably a god of some sort, and Lady Caith smells like a low-grade one as well, so it’s probably even odds on which one of them would win in a fight.”
“We need to warn the other leaders in Boston,” Riordan said.
“All of them?” Donal asked worriedly, clearly thinking about the biggest threat in that group, the same way Riordan had in Lady Caith’s garden.
“I dislike the idea of going to the Boston Night Court, but I don’t think it’s something we can ignore or put off. We lose a chance at future bargaining if we don’t at least warn them of a common threat,” Riordan said as he started to mix the pancake batter. Saoirse had made herself useful by chopping up the strawberries.
“We don’t bargain with vampires to begin with,” Donal said flatly.
“We did when Abhartach first came here,” Riordan reminded him. Back then, his clan had partnered with several long-since-defunct covens to hold their territory against the nascent Boston Night Court. Those boundaries hadn’t changed much, mostly because vampires had no need for the sea.
The problem was they didn’t have much contact with any of the covens in Boston these days. The clans kept to themselves, the massive population in Boston making it easier to hide than ever before. If they were to go knocking on the Boston Night Court’s door, Riordan would want backup.
“I’ll call Ella,” Wade said, practically reading Riordan’s mind. “She can come with us tonight.”
“Tonight?” Donal exclaimed. “That’s a little rushed, don’t you think?”
Wade crumpled up the now-empty bag of tortilla chips, frowning at Donal. “No? I hate vampires as much as the next person, but you’re all operating under a timeline. You don’t have time to wait.”
Donal winced, and Riordan sighed. “He’s right. We can’t afford to wait.”
“But it’s Abhartach,” Saoirse said, not bothering to hide her shudder.
“You’ll have werecreatures to back you up, and you’ll have me,” Wade said, almost gently. He looked across the island, catching Riordan’s eye, the seriousness in his gaze that of someone far older than he looked. “Do you know where the Night Court’s public base is? We’ll steer clear of their heart for now.”
“For now?” Riordan echoed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in the heart of a Night Court as well?”
“As well as what?” Saoirse asked before Wade could answer.
“He and one of his pack alphas were guests of Medb once.”
Saoirse’s voice reached near-glass-shattering levels. “And you’re stillalive?”
Wade made a face as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket. “It wasn’t my fault we got stuck with her.”
Riordan shot Saoirse a warning look, which was enough to get her to shut her mouth and finish chopping the strawberries. “Call Ella and put it on speakerphone.”
“Yup,” Wade said, already tapping away at his phone.
Riordan carried the mixing bowl over to the stove and the now-warm frying pan. Saoirse passed over the plate of chopped strawberries before getting out of the way. Riordan liked helpers in the kitchen, not other cooks, and set about oiling the pan before putting a ladleful of pancake batter into it.
“Wade?” Ella’s voice came from near his elbow. Riordan nearly jumped, surprised to see Wade standing right beside him, having not heard the other man move.
“Hey, Ella. I’m calling about that alliance you agreed to. I didn’t want to put anything in writing,” Wade said.
The fingers of his other hand were inching closer to the plate of strawberries. Riordan grabbed his wrist without thinking. “Those are for the pancakes.”
