“If we knew, we’d be able to stop him, wouldn’t we?” Antony said.
“We’d prefer to stop him before we reach that point,” Ned said. “None of us really wants to find out what he has planned.”
The conversation reached a lull; maybe we were all contemplating the possibilities. It was enough to turn any party somber. I had an urge to call Cormac to ask his advice, interrupting what was no doubt a nice domestic scene across town. But I wasn’t going to ask him in front of the vampires. I asked myself, as I often did when I was stuck in a situation I couldn’t seem to solve: What would Cormac do? What did the true hunter’s extinct call for in this coming war?
Cormac would say to go after Roman until we completely smoked the bastard. Trouble was, we’d tried that one before. Maybe we had to come at this a little more defensively.
I straightened, caught their attention, spoke. “In summary, you’re worried that London is in danger from Mercedes and her allies, and you don’t know who to trust among the vampires. So why not turn to the werewolves? Ally with them.”
Antony chuckled. “I don’t mean to sound rude—I’m happy to listen to any and all recommendations of course—but what can the werewolves possibly do to help?”
I managed to keep my voice calm. “Caleb has united the werewolves of the British Isles. They can help you.”
“Ah, yes, you’ve gone and met Caleb all on your own. When were you going to tell me about that?” Ned sounded genuinely put out. As if he wasn’t the greatest actor of his generation, able to sound however the hell he wanted.
Flatly I said, “You never asked. As I was saying, the werewolves here are independent, not under your thumb at all—”
“Because I don’t need them,” Ned said. “Caleb understands that. We don’t bother each other. It’s an equitable arrangement.”
“You don’t need each other, either, I understand. Rick in Denver and I have the same deal—except we go a step further. We help each other, because the city is stronger when we work together. That’s how we’ve kept Denver out of Roman’s hands.”
“Werewolves aren’t that powerful,” Antony said.
I spread my arms. “Hey, I’m the one who broke up your party the other night.”
“Regina Luporum. Hmm,” Antony said, tapping a finger on his chin, considering.
Facing the ceiling, I growled. Ben patted my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “You brought this on yourself, hon.”
“Fine. I quit.”
He just grinned at me.
“Perhaps she’s right, Ned: you should arrange a meeting with Caleb,” Marid said.
London’s Master regarded me with a narrowed gaze. “Kitty, perhaps you should arrange the meeting. Since you two apparently get along so well—”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
“If I approach him he’ll think I’m conspiring. He won’t trust me. But if you mediate…”
“But you are conspiring,” I said.
“Yes, for all our benefits,” he replied.
I’d practically asked for this, hadn’t I? I put my hand over Ben’s and glanced at him. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s worth a try. You’ve said it before—the more people are keeping watch against Roman, the better.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and walked to the other side of the room to make the call.
His greeting when he answered was practically a bark, designed to make the listener cower. I resisted the urge and tried to sound annoyed. “Hello to you, too. It’s Kitty Norville.”
“I can hear that. What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing yet. I’ve volunteered to mediate. Ned Alleyn wants a meeting.”
“He does, does he? What for? Going to try to convince me that due to current turmoil I need to put myself under his protection? For my own good and the good of my wolves, of course.”