“You haven’t mentioned Ming or Kaleb,” Lucas pointed out, massaging his mate’s lower back unobtrusively as he spoke.
Nikita turned her eyes to the DarkRiver alpha. “Kaleb is highly unpredictable and may, in the end, double-cross everyone, but he doesn’t stay on sinking ships, either. Ming is having issues of his own and is more concerned with that than taking over this or any territory.”
“Henry and Shoshanna are the strongest advocates of Silence proceeding as it has for the past century,” Anthony added. “They want to increase the involuntary reconditionings, force those who are fractured to submit—or face total rehabilitation.”
Max’s wife, Sophia, spoke for the first time. “By refusing to sign my rehabilitation warrant, Nikita sent a signal that she was no longer toeing the party line. It has left her . . . unpopular.”
“If the packs step back in a public fashion,” Sascha said, to Indigo’s surprise, “make it clear we’re not allied with you, what will happen?”
Tension gripped the room.
“They may leave you alone,” Anthony said, “come after Nikita and me in force.”
“But I wouldn’t bet on it,” Max added, pushing back strands of his jet-black hair. “From what Sophie here tells me, far as the PsyNet is concerned, this area is already seen to be functioning as a cohesive unit. There’s a hell of a lot more cross-pollination than in any other sector.”
Indigo thought of the connections that tied the people in this room to each other and knew Max Shannon was right. There was also the fact that both packs had proven themselves a threat to even the most powerful Psy. No matter what, the other Councilors would not leave them in peace.
Nikita spoke into the quiet, her words directed at her daughter. “That is a decision your emotional nature would never allow you to make,” she said with icy practicality, “so why did you ask the question?”
“I have a child to protect now, Mother.” Soft, powerful words. “Priorities change.”
Nikita said nothing, and Indigo’s wolf wanted to claw at her. Because that wolf understood only family, knew that its own mother would never look at her child with such coldness.
“But,” Sascha said, “it doesn’t matter how we try to distance ourselves. Max is right—we’re all connected now. We all call this region home. They can’t attack one without affecting the other.”
That, Andrew thought, leaning a little on his mate as his body began to protest at being forced upright for this long, was the crux of it all.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Andrew wouldn’t go that far, but he could almost see Hawke calculating the possible options before saying, “We’d be more apt to take you seriously if you gave us information we could actually use.” It was a challenge.
“Henry and Shoshanna are assembling an army,” Anthony said, meeting Hawke’s gaze. “They’ve got a few Arrows on their side, along with all those who believe in Purity.”
“They lost people when they came after Hawke”—Riley’s steady voice again—“and at least one of them was a teleport-capable telekinetic.”
“A scarce resource,” Anthony agreed. “It may prove a set-back to their plans—but a small one. As Tks have one of the most dangerous abilities, they tend to most strongly embrace the Protocol.”
Giving the Scotts a powerful pool of assassins.
“Ming and Kaleb may assist us when the Scotts strike,” Nikita added. “But only if that assistance serves their own interests.”
“Some assistance,” Hawke said, “we don’t need.”
Andrew agreed. Ming LeBon, by all accounts, was a sociopath masquerading as a Councilor. Kaleb Krychek was harder to pin down, which might simply mean he was better at hiding his crimes—because according to the intel Andrew had unearthed, Kaleb Krychek had been mentored by the same sadistic killer who’d not only tortured Brenna, but killed a number of other young changeling women.
“Yes,” Nikita said, “so any defensive measures we take will have to be based on our own resources. I have a not insignificant pool of strong telepaths under my direct command, but the primary asset I bring to the table is my considerable economic strength. I am already in the process of strangling some of the Scotts’ finances.”
Anthony, it went without saying, brought his foreseers to the table.
“Have you considered a preemptive strike?” Hawke asked, and Andrew recalled the “warning tap” they’d discussed not long ago.
Anthony nodded. “However, they have a strong advantage on home ground. The opposite is true here.”
A long, silent pause broken by Hawke. “Another meeting. One week.”
“Very well.” Anthony inclined his head, the threads of silver at his temples catching the light. “There is one more thing you should know. Every strong F-Psy in the NightStar Group has made at least one spontaneous nonbusiness prediction over the past month, a highly unusual event.”