Wariness that hadn’t been in the young man’s gaze when looking at Wade filled his eyes now. “We weren’t informed fae would be joining Wade.”
“Riordan is with me. We’ll do hospitality if it makes you feel any better,” Wade said.
“It would. Come inside, please.”
Taking hospitality from a coven wasn’t much different than taking it from the fae. Perhaps the bread was a tad stale, but the ice water was refreshing. Wade seemed disappointed at the offering but ate it anyway. “Is Gwen ready to see us?”
“Our high priestess will take the meeting in the ground-floor office. If you’ll follow me,” the young man said. He still hadn’t offered his name, but Riordan opted not to be insulted by the lack of manners. Most people didn’t like giving up names to the fae.
Wade leaned in, lowering his voice to just barely above a whisper, but Riordan heard him just fine. “Lady Caith’s offering for hospitality was tastier.”
It made him stifle a laugh, forcing his expression into bland neutrality when their escort glanced back.
They were led through a neatly furnished home that felt lived in when it came to the small details: a throw blanket tossed haphazardly over a couch in the front room they passed, someone’s keys in a glass bowl on a hallway credenza, the books scattered across the dining room table. Riordan could hear voices echoing from the kitchen that he couldn’t see as they walked on by the dining area. The ground-floor office was in the back of the building, overlooking a backyard that was full ofrosebushes. The window was open to let in the breeze and, with it, the cloying scent of those very same roses.
“High priestess, your guests,” the young man said with a formal nod. “Wade arrived with a fae. Hospitality was given.”
Gwen looked up from her laptop, blond hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her face was a bit weathered, and even sitting down, she held herself with the straight-backed carriage of one used to parade rest in the military. She wore a neat blouse today rather than a uniform, but she’d worn her uniform just as well, judging by the numerous pictures of her military career hanging on the wall. Two bookcases framed the window behind her, and a side table held an altar, one with a half-melted candle, glossy black feathers, and carved runes.
“Not Persephone, I hope,” Wade said with a strange flatness to his voice as he jerked his thumb at the altar in question.
Gwen raised an eyebrow and closed her laptop. “No. My coven worships the Morrígan.”
Wade winced. “Uh, not much better.”
“I take it you don’t believe in our goddess?”
“I believe in too many of them. I just don’tlikeany of them.”
Gwen stood, coming around the desk to size them both up before offering her hand first to Wade, then to Riordan. “I understand you’re here about a territory problem.”
“It’s your problem as well.”
“That remains to be seen. Take a seat. Anywhere you like is fine.” Wade opted for the small love seat sofa opposite the altar, and Riordan joined him there, sitting so close their thighs touched. Gwen dragged one of the wing-backed chairs in front of her desk over to them and sat down. “My secretary said you wished to speak to me about a threat.”
Wade nodded. “We think a fae is targeting the leaders of the supernatural and preternatural communities in Boston. You’re on that list.”
“No one in my coven or any others have come to me with reports of being targeted by the fae.” Her gaze cut Riordan’s way, politely curious in a way he didn’t quite trust. “I wasn’t aware the kin were in the crosshairs.”
Riordan smiled thinly. “It’s a recent issue. But we aren’t the only ones who have been targeted. The Boston god pack alphas were both taken by Niall, a fae exiled from Underhill. We’re trying to find them, as well as something Niall stole from my clan.”
Her gaze dropped from his face to his jacket. “Not your skin, but someone else’s, I assume?”
Riordan didn’t respond to that question. He didn’t know Gwen and wasn’t about to trust her with the personal details of his clan. She seemed to take his silence as agreement though, which wasn’t far off the mark.
“Why reach out to my coven?” she asked.
“Because you’re the leader of the most powerful coven in Boston. You hold sway over a lot of magic users, and you’re also a mage. I’m guessing Niall wants to control magic users or maybe drive them out and claim your territory as his. I don’t know. It’s a guessing game at this point, but the consequences have been ugly so far,” Wade said.
“And you want my help?”
She sounded skeptical, which Riordan could understand. His clan and the kin didn’t mingle with magic users much. He didn’t know what sort of relationship the Boston god pack had with the covens. Ella wasn’t there to speak for her pack because she’d needed to mediate a territory dispute today between three packs. They’d promised to speak for her though.
“We want the covens to be aware of the threat. Niall won’t stop until he’s claimed Boston. If it takes years or decades, he’ll do it, but we don’t think it’ll take that long,” Riordan said.
“We’re pretty sure he’s going after the master vampire of the Boston Night Court next. Either that, or he’s going to try to negotiate an alliance with them and then probably stab Abby Boy in the heart at some point,” Wade said.
Gwen’s gaze sharpened, and she leaned forward. “He’s targeting Abhartach?”
