Anita nodded, keeping both hands on her coffee cup. She found herself suddenly itching with curiosity--not about whether Bell Morte's Ardeur and the White Court's Hunger were kissing cousins, in either a physical or metaphysical sense, but about whether or not one would play well with the other. Would she and Thomas amplify one another's powers? Would they cancel each other out?
She blew a soft breath on the surface of the caramel-colored liquid in her cup, willing herself to focus, not to get ahead of herself.
"I suppose I might as well lay out what I'd be bringing to the table, then, huh?" she asked as Thomas cut to the chase. "I assume you've already met Mr. Dresden's one-woman security detail, Phaedra Romani? She happens to be a friend of mine as well. I also have ties to the Thronos Rokke clan of werewolves, back in St. Louis, and through them, to several other packs in the country, including Chicago--and if that wasn't enough to make me sound like some kind of mobster princess, Jean Claude would like me convey his personal greetings."
She sighed audibly this time, and shifted the mug to one hand, to rub the back of her neck. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you don't like politics a whole lot much more than I do, so, long story short, I've got a lot of people I can call on when push comes to shove, through a lot of different channels. So as long as you don't mind tangling with my oh-so complicated set of alliances...we just might be able to work something out. But if complicated is a turn off..." She shrugged. "I understand if you'd rather bow out gracefully and look elsewhere."