Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

"This reminds me of the Upper East Side," Wade said as he got out of the car.

Riordan shoved open his door and got out as well, squinting against the sunlight. "Because it's a rich neighborhood?"

"Yeah. I bet my condo goes for more than these though."

"Maybe one day, I'll see it."

Wade beamed in a way that made him look younger than he was. But then Riordan was reminded of the way he'd backtalked Carmen yesterday. Wade might seem younger, but he'd definitely gone through a lot in his twenty-three years. His confidence was why Riordan found himself standing in front of the home belonging to the Faneuil Coven's high priestess on a Friday morning. Gwen Cattaneo had agreed to a meeting today at Wade's insistence, something Riordan doubted she'd have granted his clan if they'd been the ones asking.

Riordan was tagging along because he wasn't leaving Wade alone. He'd brought his sealskin with him in the form of his usual leather jacket. The weather wasn't so hot yet that he'd get strange looks for his choice of attire. After getting tailed by one of Niall's fae yesterday when running errands in the afternoon, he and Donal had decided not to leave their sealskins behind. They didn't want to risk Niall trying to steal them from their home while they were out.

Riordan and his clan typically steered clear of magic users. Boston was an epicenter for magic, with witches being the predominant type of magic users calling the city and its surrounding towns home. Their numbers had risen and fallen over the decades, with one stretch of history where they'd all gone to ground during the Salem Witch Trials. Territory borders had fluctuated during that time, one of the reasons his clan had been able to claim the shoreline and keep it when they'd arrived in Boston.

The kin kept to themselves and rarely made overtures to the other supernatural and preternatural communities in Boston. He didn't know Gwen personally, only knew the retired major through press releases. She'd taken over the Faneuil Coven two years ago, having been ready to retire when the Battle of Samhain had happened and staying on for the fight and a bit after to see things settled. That was the sort of commitment to duty and people Riordan understood, and he hoped their meeting wouldn't become antagonistic, even with Wade to smooth things over.

Riordan followed Wade up the steps to the porch of the redbrick building that probably went for a cool million dollars easy. Back Bay was an expensive neighborhood to call home, though not as expensive as Beacon Hill. Wade rapped his knuckles on the door, and it opened almost instantly. The young man who answered it seemed to be expecting them.

"Mr. Espinoza," the greeter said politely.

"That makes me sound old. Just Wade is fine," Wade said.

"Wade, then. And is your companion part of your god pack?"

"I'm Bostonian at this point," Riordan said. "Fae if that matters to any of the wards in your home."

He could sense the magic in the walls of the building, a deep well of it that meant the wards were probably laid into the foundation and at least a few decades old. That sort of magic came with a strength he'd rather not be on the wrong side of.

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 of rosebushes. 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't like any 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?"

"He's the next logical choice. We have a meeting with his Night Court tonight."

"And he actually agreed to it?"

"Yes," Wade said with a surprisingly straight face. He didn't mention Lucien, so Riordan held his tongue on that detail as well. "My pack has dealt with vampires before, and I told Ella I'd help keep her pack and Riordan's clan safe when we met up tonight. But Patrick couldn't come to Boston with me, and we're kind of short on magic users. I was wondering if you had any artifacts we could borrow or buy for defensive purposes?"

"Most people would request a magic user themselves when going into vampire territory."

"The fewer people involved, the fewer people there are who can become targets," Riordan said.

"Your magic isn't capable of protecting them?"

Riordan smiled, teeth sharp against his lips, stung by the insult but refusing to show it. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Hey, that's a little rude. Riordan's doing just fine," Wade said, scowling.

Gwen raised a hand in a calming manner. "I don't mean any disrespect. I'm well aware of how magic differs."

"Then you'll give us an artifact? I just need one that has a shield ward for them."

"Not for yourself?"

"Do you have one?"

Gwen sighed. "An artifact spelled with a shield ward is something we have in our inventory. My coven is not in the habit of selling or loaning them out, but I know Patrick Collins wouldn't have sent you here if there truly wasn't a problem."

"You are in danger, whether you believe us or not," Riordan said.

Wade nodded in agreement. "Yeah, this Niall guy is definitely an asshole. If your coven hasn't been targeted yet, that's great, but that doesn't mean it won't be. We're trying to stop him before he hits anyone else."

"If you're asking for an alliance—" Gwen said.

"I'm not," Riordan cut in. "And I doubt Ella will as well."

He'd speak on Ella's behalf, but he wouldn't speak for her about an alliance without her input. Neither would he place his clan in a quid pro quo position with a coven. Wade initiating the request kept Riordan and his clan from being boxed into a corner, bound by a promise. Fae didn't make promises lightly. Oh, they'd scheme to get a mortal or any other creature to tie themselves to a bargain, but it was rare any fae was the one offering. Fae were taught from a young age that words were a weapon as well as a trap.

"I don't have the authority to ask for any alliance. Boston isn't my territory, and only Patrick and Jono have the authority in my god pack to do something like that," Wade said.

"I understand. But because it is the New York City god pack asking for an artifact of protection, I will let you borrow one of our artifacts spelled with defensive wards," Gwen said.

Wade smiled at her. "Thanks. You should still be on the lookout for threats from the fae."

"I'll warn the members of my coven."

"Niall would be after you since you're their high priestess."

"I'm a combat mage and was in the Mage Corps for twenty years, but I'll take your warning under advisement." Gwen stood and went to open her office door, poking her head out in the hallway. "Grab me the warded box with the crystals from the room upstairs."

Whoever had been standing guard outside the office murmured an affirmative before leaving. Gwen returned to her seat, neatly crossing her ankles.

"We appreciate the help," Wade said.

"It's a temporary loan. I'll expect it returned to me."

"Yup."

A few minutes later, the same young man who had answered the front door stepped into the office, carrying a carved wooden box, the glossy stain on it reflecting the light. Gwen took it and pressed her thumb to the pentagram carved above a metal latch. Soft mauve light cascaded over the box, following the carved lines before disappearing. She opened the box, and Riordan let the hint of magic that escaped it wash past him. "I can offer one artifact. The shield wards aren't military grade and aren't meant to cover more than a handful of people."

"How big is a handful?" Riordan asked.

"Four at the most, but you'd have to be close to each other. The structure of the ward has a limited range."

"That will be fine." It would cover his siblings and himself, along with Wade, though he wondered if it would even work on Wade. Hospitality didn't, and that was old magic in the sense that a home's threshold had been around as long as mortals had.

Gwen lifted a violet quartz crystal hanging from a metal chain out of the warded box. The crystal was carved into a flat disk with a sigil etched into one side. She offered it to Wade, who took it and tossed it from hand to hand before he passed it over to Riordan. "You should wear it."

Wade dropped the crystal onto his palm, the magic lending weight to it he doubted most people could sense. It wasn't magic he was familiar with—his magic dealt with shifting and the sea —but Riordan figured he could handle it easily enough. "What's the command trigger?"

Gwen voiced the phrase, the English words easy enough to remember. Riordan hung the chain with the artifact around his neck, letting the crystal settle against his chest. He'd give it to Saoirse once he made it home.

Warning given, temporary artifact acquired, Riordan felt the meeting was done. He stood, nodding politely at Gwen. "We'll return it tomorrow."

He didn't say thank you, and she didn't seem to expect it of him, judging by the faint quirk of her lips. "I'll look forward to the delivery."

They were escorted out of the coven's home by the same young man as before. The door shut nearly on their heels, which made Riordan snort. Wade seemed just as amused. "I don't think that guy liked us."

"He didn't mind you all that much. It's more that he probably doesn't like fae."

Wade scrunched his nose. "Sage is always on me about manners. He could use some."

Riordan wasn't a stranger to discrimination. It was only one of the many reasons fae used glamour to hide themselves amongst mortals. But he thought it was sweet that Wade was affronted on his behalf.

Riordan tugged on the crystal hanging around his neck, the quiescent magic tickling his palm. "Why don't you travel with something like this?"

"Because I don't need it. But Patrick is still in DC, and I wanted something for you and your siblings. I figured we had to warn Gwen anyway, and what was the harm in asking for some magical help?"

It was a kind gesture, one Riordan hadn't experienced in a long time from someone who wasn't clan. It made him want to wrap Wade up in his jacket, offer up his sealskin, and let the younger man keep him. He swallowed against the visceral want of that desire, knowing it was the fixation talking.

It was so tempting to listen to it.

"Thank you."

Wade mock frowned at him. "You don't owe me anything."

"I know." He tugged on Wade's elbow, drawing him close to kiss him on the mouth, just a soft press of lips. "But it's okay if it's you."

"That's just stupidly unfair," Wade mumbled against his lips before kissing back a little harder, a little clumsily. Riordan indulged him there on the sidewalk for a few seconds more, tugging him closer, enjoying the warmth that bled through Wade's clothes. Despite the sun beating down on them, Riordan didn't mind the heat.

"Come on. I'll text Ailín we're heading to the sailing club. He'll meet us out front."

"Okay, but I'm bringing some snacks with us on the boat. It's not like they have a sail-through Dunkin' out there."

Riordan snorted. "Are you going to share them, or do I need to bring my own?"

Wade reached up to pat his cheek. "You're lucky you're cute. My pack knows better than to ask a dumb question like that."

Riordan arched an eyebrow, letting himself be tugged down the sidewalk back to the car, Wade's hand warm in his. "I'm cute, am I?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"You can say whatever you like to me, mo chroí ."

Wade's flush at the endearment was almost as cute as the way his ass looked in his jeans. His smile was pleased though, and Riordan was proud of the fact that, when he let go of Wade's hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders, Wade didn't pull away.