“Doolittle categorically forbade it,” Barabas said. “Anyway, nothing came of it. He must’ve decided the route was too vulnerable. This time he’s going with trucks. He’s been flirting with the local teamster guilds, and there is a rumor he’s hiring mechanics.”

“If he starts actively acquiring mechanics and drivers, I want to know about it,” Curran said.

Barabas nodded.

“And trucks,” I said. “He doesn’t have enough trucks sitting around, and he won’t be satisfied with just any trucks. He’ll get top of the line, probably directly from the manufacturer, so they all match. He might even paint them gold.”

“Would he steal them?” Barabas asked.

“No,” Christopher said. “It’s beneath him. He would take them as spoils of war, but he won’t stoop to theft.”

“We have two more immediate problems.” I brought them up to speed on the box and the burning man parade. Christopher leaned forward, listening intently. When I finished, Barabas glanced at him. Christopher shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“So, what’s the question?” Barabas asked.

“Doesn’t matter. They killed Mr. Tucker. The answer is no,” I told him.

Barabas glanced at Curran. “What do you want to do about this?”

“There is nothing we can do,” Curran said. “We wait until this asshole shows his hand.”

“You said there were two problems,” Christopher said.

“We have to protect Conlan,” I explained. “He’s like a lighthouse shining in the night. The sahanu will be drawn to him. Curran and I have to be able to move around the city.”

“We can take him to the bear clan house,” Curran said.

He wouldn’t like this part. I reached into my pocket, took out the folded photograph, and put it on the table. The three of them leaned in to look at it.

“Avag Barsamian,” Christopher said, his eyes dark. “Landon’s second.”

“How dangerous is he?” Curran asked.

Christopher leaned back, one leg over the other, braiding his long fingers into a single fist on his knee. “He’s one of the Golden Legion, so he’s a formidable navigator. He’s skilled in diplomacy in a way very few people are. When Avag negotiates, he crosses from savoir faire into art. He’s cunning and cautious, and he has nearly infallible instincts. I used him on several occasions. They send him in when things are complicated.”

“He was escorted into the Keep with a briefcase and came out without one,” I said.

“How sure are you?” Curran asked.

“Rowena’s vampire took the photos. They have others. The next day Robert brought us the offer of alliance from the Pack.”

Nobody said anything. Barabas frowned. Curran’s face turned inscrutable. Christopher pondered the wall.

“Also, this may or may not be related,” I added, “but Raphael asked me to let Ascanio go.”

“When?” Curran asked.

“The same day Avag brought them an offer.”

“Did you?”

“I did. It’s not about me or Clan Bouda. It’s what Ascanio wanted.”

Silence fell again.

I tapped my fingers on the table. “Something important was in that briefcase.”

“It may have been a gift,” Barabas said. “They brought a gift, Jim took the trinket, listened to what they had to say, and sent them on their way. I’ve seen Curran do that a dozen times.”

“My father doesn’t send trinkets. He poisons the flowers in your garden, and when your child sniffs one and becomes sick, he sends the antidote in a vial carved out of amethyst and corked with a diamond as a gesture of good faith and friendship. Whatever it was, Jim took it.”

Barabas frowned. “Robert’s timing is obviously suspect.”

I nodded. “There are two possibilities: either they said yes to Roland and are going to betray us, or they didn’t mean whatever they said to Roland and they are not going to betray us.”

“Three,” Barabas said. “They may be thinking it over.”

“They don’t even have to fight against us. They can just not show up and it would weaken us.”

“If the Pack abstains from the conflict between us and your father, and Roland wins, the Pack will be next,” Barabas said.

Christopher stirred. “Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres . . .”

“The whole of Gaul is divided into three parts?” I asked.

“The opening line to Gallic Wars by Julius Caesar,” Christopher said. “Caesar conquered Gaul tribe by tribe. Had they unified from the start, Rome’s first emperor would’ve never made it back to Rome. There is a copy of this book in the Pack’s library. I’ve seen Jim reading it. He knows that divided, we will fall.”

“Jim isn’t an idiot, and he’s been Curran’s friend for over a decade,” Barabas said. “I don’t see it.”

“Roland has a way of subverting friendships,” Christopher said. “It’s a policy of isolation. He becomes your family, your friend, your confidant.”

A shadow passed over his eyes.

“Then he betrays you,” I said. “He did it with you, Erra, Hugh, me. The list goes on.”

“Hugh was a special case,” Christopher said. “We were adults. Hugh was a child.”

“Hugh could’ve walked away. Instead he committed one atrocity after the next.”

“It’s not that simple.” Christopher shook his head.

There was more there, but now wasn’t the time to dig for it. I turned to Curran. His face showed all the varied emotions of a stone wall. He’d gone into his Beast Lord mode.

“Is there any way for us to be sure that Jim won’t betray us?” I asked.

“No,” Curran said.

That’s what I thought. If we confronted him with the pictures, he would deny everything and we wouldn’t be able to determine if it was the truth. If he was playing us, he would pretend to be outraged; if he wasn’t, he would be outraged that we didn’t trust him. Either way told us nothing.

“We have to assume Jim betrays us. It’s the only safe way to plan.” Barabas rubbed his face.

I looked at Curran. “Does he have any gaps in his armor?”

My husband turned to me, and his face was pure Beast Lord. “Everyone has gaps. Ours is sleeping on the pillow. Thinking of hitting Jim where it hurts?”

“No. But if Roland is pushing on a pressure point, we want to know about it.”

Curran leaned back, his voice calm and measured. “Short term, siding with Roland would be to Jim’s benefit. They lost a lot of people and an alliance would avoid further bloodshed. There are those within the Pack who would welcome that solution. From that position, not showing up at all is his best option. However, Jim thinks long term. If he fails to support us, he’s left with Roland as victor. Your father doesn’t do alliances. He wants obedience. Jim will chafe at it and so will most of the others. Besides that, if Jim betrays us, Clan Bear, Clan Bouda, and Clan Wolf would rebel.”

“I don’t know about Clan Wolf,” I said.

“Desandra always votes in your favor,” Barabas told me. “She’ll often say provocative things to stir shit up, but she always supports you.”

Clan Bouda, Clan Bear, and Clan Wolf would comprise close to half of the Pack. Jim would face a civil war.

“Perhaps Jim is thinking longer term,” Christopher said.

Curran turned to him. “Explain.”

“People always long for the good old days,” Christopher said, his light eyes thoughtful. “We look at the past with rose-colored glasses.”

“I have no plans to take the Pack back from Jim,” Curran said. “He knows this. Jim is paranoid, but he is a more effective Beast Lord.”

“But he doesn’t have your charm,” Barabas said. “He hardly ever roars and makes everyone cringe.”

“People as individuals are intelligent,” Christopher said. “People as a political body are finicky. They gravitate toward symbols of strength and power. You have a bigger presence than Jim.”