by Eileen Wilks
“Did Rule tell you that? Or Isen?”
“Until last night, I didn’t even know her last name.”
“Rule did, though, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know. He’d been told her name, but I don’t know if he remembers.” It seemed like he’d have to, but he always flew the “off-limits” banner on the rare occasions the subject of his mother came up, and she’d never pushed.
Last night she’d pushed…but it was Isen she’d talked to, not Rule.
Celeste Babineaux had been a French expatriate living in California, and—in Isen’s words—the most staggeringly beautiful woman he’d ever met, then or since. She had also been bipolar. At least that’s the diagnosis she’d eventually received, after being in and out of sanatoriums and treatment centers and such for much of her life.
Isen had paid for those stays, some of them extended. Even after Celeste married a man named Michael Machek, Isen had paid for her treatment. His eyebrows had lifted when Lily expressed surprise at that. “She was my son’s mother. Of course I helped her when she needed it. Bipolar is such a recent way of understanding one type of mental illness,” Isen had added. “It wasn’t the doctors’ fault they couldn’t do more for her back then.”
“Don’t you think Rule needed to know that his mother had a mental illness?”
Isen had shrugged. “He didn’t want to know about her. There was no medical concern—he couldn’t inherit her condition—so I didn’t force the knowledge on him.”
“It could have made a difference in how he thought about her. It could have had a lot to do with why she abandoned him.”
“You oversimplify. Do you think Rule felt abandoned? Do you see that kind of early trauma in him today?”
Maybe not. But he hadn’t just missed out on knowing about his birth mother. He’d missed out knowing about his brother. “Does he have other half siblings you haven’t mentioned?”
“No.” Isen had smiled with sly amusement. “Although Benedict has two that he may not have mentioned to you. He sees them when he visits his mother’s tribe.”
No, he’d never mentioned them. Not that Benedict was exactly chatty, so that wasn’t surprising. But Rule had never mentioned them, either.
Otherkin. Kin, but not clan. Lily frowned at a landscape she didn’t see, her legs moving automatically. When Cynna spoke, it startled her.
“After Cullen told me about Jasper, I asked him if he had any stray brothers or sisters I didn’t know about. He said no. You knew that his mom was Wiccan, right?”
Lily nodded. “She taught him spellcraft, didn’t she?”
“And kept him from burning things down until he was old enough to get a handle on his Gift. You maybe don’t know that she was forty when she had him. She used a strong-ass fertility charm to help her get pregnant while she was involved with his dad. Those aren’t supposed to work, but either hers did or she got lucky. She wanted a lupus baby.”
So different from Rule’s experience…“Rule told me once that his name was Anglicized—that the original version was Reule. A French name. Nokolai was French before the clan immigrated, so I assumed that’s where the name came from. It didn’t. That’s what his mother named him.”
“You learned that last night?”
“Isen and I talked quite awhile. Isen called him Rule because it was easier for people to pronounce, so that’s what he grew up with. But his mother named him Reule. It means famous wolf.”
“Wow. It seems like she put some thought into his name. It also seems like there’s a lot you haven’t told me, if you and Isen talked so long.”
Lily’s breath huffed out impatiently. “I’m not sure how much to say. Rule doesn’t talk about his mother, but I think it’s okay if I do. But somewhere there’s a line between what’s okay to say and what isn’t, and I’m not sure where that line is.”
“I hate to say this,” Cynna said, “I really do. I’d rather nag you into telling me everything, but…” Her breath was coming fast and hard now, so that she had to start dumping her words out in bursts. “My own rule is that…if I think it would make Cullen mad…for me to repeat something…that’s okay. I can talk about stuff that…makes him mad if I want to. But if it would hurt him or…make him feel exposed…I don’t say…anything.” She slid Lily a look. “But hey. You can…talk about how you feel without…violating any…confidentiality deal.”
“Confused.” And shut out, which she didn’t like, but she understood. Rule needed time to come to terms with what this newfound brother meant to him. Only she wasn’t sure he knew that. “We’re nearly to the turnaround point.”
“Thank God.”
They’d marked the one-mile point with a small stack of rocks. When they reached it, Cynna said she wanted to pause and stretch out a bit. Mostly she wanted to get her wind back, Lily thought, but that was okay. There was a long, flat rock she could use to stretch her hamstrings. She balanced on its edge and dropped her toes slowly.
The clouds stacked across the morning sky had lost their earlier blood-and-fire glory by then, fading to soft pink in the east with myriad grays and steel blues overhead. Rain by noon, she thought. She wouldn’t be here to see it.
“I wish I was going with you,” Cynna said.
“I guess you could, if you decided to. Neither Rule or Ruben can tell you no.”
“The upside of being a Rhej is that no one can tell me no. The downside is that this forces me to be a grown-up and tell myself no sometimes.” Cynna hugged one leg close to her chest. “Ow. That hurts so good. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what the grown-up thing is, though. This is probably the safest it’s going to get for a while. Friar’s organization is a mess.”
“We think so, anyway.”
“And Jasper-the-thief wanted me there.”
“Which could be a strong argument for staying here.”
“That’s what Cullen said. Along with a lot of other shit.” Cynna lowered that leg and hugged the other one. “Why is my left butt cheek always stiffer than my right? Anyway, I couldn’t make up my mind, so I tossed a coin.”
“I guess San Francisco lost.”
“Yeah.” Cynna switched legs.
“Well, if you’re here you can connect with the CSI squad. Now that the internal clan stuff’s been cleared up, Isen agreed that I could call them in. They’ll be here about ten.”
“I can do that.” Cynna lowered her leg slowly. “I’m going to have to resign from the Bureau, you know.”
Lily stopped moving. “Shit.”
“I don’t have to do it right this minute. I’ve got another two months of unpaid leave. But I’m not going to be able to go back to active duty. I won’t be able to go where I’m needed. If I was still an apprentice I could, but now…” She shrugged.
Lily couldn’t think of what to say. She’d nearly lost her position with the Bureau in October, and that had all but wrecked her. “Have you talked to Ruben yet?”
“He said he’d find a place for me if I wanted, maybe in Research. But research isn’t my thing. Or I can be a consultant. I’ll probably go with that. I don’t want to stay in the Bureau just so I can be on the payroll. I don’t need to, either. Nokolai would pay me a salary if I wanted, you know.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Usually a Rhej gets housing and utilities from her clan, but being a Rhej isn’t a full-time job, so most of them work at regular jobs, too. Hannah did when she was younger, and I expected to. But with this war, that’s going to change. We’ve been talking about it.”
“ ‘We’ being the Rhejes?”
Cynna nodded. “They’re an incredible bunch of women. I thought it might be hard for them to accept me. They loved Hannah. She was the eldest, and they all…but they’ve been great. Anyway, there are two of us who don’t have apprentices—me and the Etorri Rhej—and she and I have talked several times. We agreed that we can’t risk the memories. She’s quitting her job, and I won’t be going back to the Bureau.”
Lily was s
ilent a moment. “Are you okay with this?”
“You know, I am. I don’t like being denned up at Clanhome, and I’ll miss being an agent. But I’m not a cop all the way down the way you are. I’m not giving up something that’s fundamental to me. And then there’s Ryder. I knew things would change once she was born, but I didn’t know how much of the change would be in me. In what I want.” She shook her head as if she’d run out of words. “Anyway, the reason I told you today instead of some other time is that I wanted you to know where I’m coming from. I want you to promise me something.”
“If I can.”
Cynna’s grin flashed. “Smart answer. I don’t think this one will stretch you out of shape. If you decide you need me in San Francisco, call me. Cullen won’t. I’m pretty sure Rule won’t, either. Not that I can promise I’ll come if you do, but I want to know. I want it to be my choice, not the default setting everyone picks for me.”
“Damn, you are turning into such a grown-up.”
Cynna’s grin widened. “I am, aren’t I? So will you do it?”
Lily nodded. “It’s a deal.”
“Good. Thanks. I guess you need to get back.”
“I really do. Check-in’s at ten, and I’ve got a ton to do before then.” Lily started off at a slow jog, but Cynna seemed to have her breath back, so she moved into an easy lope. After a bit she said, “Things keep changing, don’t they?”
“All the fucking time,” Cynna agreed. She sounded annoyingly cheerful about it, though.
FOURTEEN
RULE was leaving the house when Lily returned. He told her he was heading over to Eric Snowden’s to get Toby, touched her face as if he, too, regretted the lack of a private moment, and left at a lope. By the time Lily showered, called Ruben, called the local FBI office to delegate some of her cases, and texted her parents that she’d be out of town for a while, he was back.
So was Toby. So were Emmy and Danny. Rule vanished into the study with Isen, and Lily ate breakfast with a noisy and inquisitive crowd. The three kids charged back out as soon as they finished downing the pancakes they’d drowned in maple syrup. It seemed the self-defense refresher course planned for their age cohort had been moved up to today.
Lily approved of the clan’s custom of teaching basic self-defense to its kids. She suspected that today’s class was at least partly to keep them busy, maybe wear them out a bit. They were all wired after last night. But it would also reinforce the idea that being young and small might mean taking orders and running or hiding if necessary, but it did not mean they were helpless.
As soon as Toby and company left, José told Lily about the arrangements for their trip. The bulk of the guards who’d accompany them had left while Lily was still asleep because they were driving up. But Scott would fly there with her, Rule, and Cullen.
Scott was Leidolf. So, she realized, were the guards José named who’d already left. That had to have something to do with Rule’s newly found sense of himself as Leidolf, but what? Lily put that on her mental list of things to discuss later, when she and Rule were alone.
At ten till nine she finished packing—she’d gotten really quick with that—and rolled her suitcase out to the living room. Cullen sprawled on one of the couches, a battered duffel near his feet and a cup of coffee in his hand. He nodded at her. “José is bringing the car around.”
She glanced at the hall that led to Isen’s study. “Rule still in with Isen?”
“Yeah.”
In addition to the steel plates in the walls, Isen’s study was soundproofed. No point in asking if Cullen had heard anything. Lily parked her suitcase by the hallway and started for the kitchen. “I’m going to grab a cup of coffee.”
“Don’t bother. This is the last of it.”
“You took the last cup?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
She sighed and plopped down on the hassock. Maybe Isen had given Rule the brief report she’d printed off for him and they were talking about it. The Bureau didn’t have a lot on Jasper Machek, but what they did have made interesting reading. “How did you rig the coin toss?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right. You’re fine with Cynna coming with us if she wants to. You didn’t do a thing to influence that coin she tossed.”
He grinned. “Nothing anyone can prove.”
Lily wasn’t about to tell Cullen that she approved, but she did. She’d call Cynna if they needed her in San Francisco, but her promise on that score didn’t mean she couldn’t stress the danger. Cynna shouldn’t be kept penned up at Clanhome every minute…but there was a chance this whole deal was a setup designed to get as many of them as possible away from Clanhome, where they could be ambushed. Cynna was nursing. Where she went, Ryder went. Best if she sat this one out, at least for now.
“Last night I kept getting interrupted when I was questioning you,” she said, pulling out her notebook and flipping it to the next blank page. “You said you didn’t have a picture of your prototype, so I need a description.” An omission she’d noticed with a cringe when she reported to Ruben.
“A skull.”
She stared. “It looks like a skull?”
“It is a skull. The runes are written on it in black ink—specially prepared, but you don’t need to know about that. And of course the yellow quartz is adhered in a carefully composed pattern that—”
“You used a human skull for your prototype?”
“You’re really slow on the uptake this morning. Maybe you did need that cup of coffee.”
“You can’t be ignorant of the laws about using human relics in magical practices. If you—”
“Of course I know the law,” Cullen said testily. “The skull’s over seventy years old, which exempts it from most restrictions. It’s been blessed and certified clean of taint or ties to its original owner. I bought it from the Catholic Church. Paid a pretty penny, too.”
“The Catholic Church sells skulls.”
“At a huge profit, but they’re the most reputable supplier around, plus the only one that can offer sufficient quantity, so if you’re worried that I hadn’t considered how many I’d need if—”
“No. No, that wasn’t my concern. Why in the world did you use a skull for your prototype?”
“Congruence, first of all, plus bone has useful properties. There’s an element of theater, too, of course. The magically ignorant require a touch of showmanship to believe something is working the way it should. Skulls impress the hell out of them.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got a weirdly malfunctioning magical device. It’s made from a human skull. You don’t think there might be a connection?”
He frowned. “That’s what Cynna said, but there is no theoretical support for the idea. The skull tests neutral in every way that matters—mortal ties, transference, elemental imbalance—”
Her phone ran through the opening bars to the theme from Jaws. She grimaced. “Hold on a minute.” She pulled it out.
Cullen grinned. “If your mother ever finds out what ringtone you gave her, you are toast.”
“If anyone ever tells her, he’s toast. Remember that. Hi, Mother,” she said. “I guess you got my text.”
“Of course I did, though I’ve told you I don’t like text messages. They’re too impersonal. I wanted to make sure you talk to your sister while you’re in San Francisco.”
“Oh. I probably will go see Beth, but I’m going there on a case, not for pleasure, so—”
“You have to talk to her about this man she’s seeing. He’s older than she is. A lot older,” Julia Yu said ominously. “I don’t know why she had to move there in the first place. I said it wouldn’t work out well.”
“She’s seeing someone in particular?” Lily said, surprised. Beth dated a lot, but she hadn’t mentioned anyone special. A whiff of guilt drifted in when she realized she hadn’t talked to Beth lately. A few texts, yeah, but she hadn’t called in…three weeks? Maybe more. Given
the way Beth flamed through relationships, that was plenty of time for her to be head over heels. “Beth falls for someone every other month. I don’t think we need to worry.”
“This one is different. She didn’t tell me about him.”
“What do you mean?”
An impatient sigh. “She’s mentioned him, but she doesn’t say she’s in love. It’s there in her voice, but she hasn’t said it, and when I ask, she says he’s just a friend. Clearly this one is different.”
“What’s his name? How much older is he?”
“Sean something-or-other. He’s over forty.”
That was a pretty big age difference. Not as big as the one between her and Rule, but Lily’s mother didn’t know that. Rule looked about thirty. Still…“I’ll ask her about him if I get the chance. I can’t promise. I don’t know how this case is going to go, but…” The study door opened. “I’ve got to go, Mother.”
It wasn’t that easy. Things never were with her mother. While Julia Yu explained how necessary it was for Lily to find out everything she could about Sean something-or-other, Lily listened with half an ear to Rule ask if the car was waiting. Cullen assured him it was, stood, and cocked an inquiring eyebrow. “Anything we should know before we leave?”
Rule raised both brows. “You couldn’t have heard us.”
“I didn’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
“There is news, but it’s for Isen to speak of.”
As he said that, Isen joined them. “Got to go, Mother,” Lily said hastily. “Bye.” She disconnected quickly.
Isen was looking cheery again. The twinkle was back. “Lily, you’ll like this part of my news. Young Hank acted on his Rho’s orders, so Nokolai does not hold him responsible for his misdeeds. He won’t be allowed to remain here, but he will be released without further punishment.”
“You’re right. I do like that.”
“You’ll also be pleased to hear that I decided the situation did not require Leo’s death.”
She’d bet he was pleased about that, too. Isen could be ruthless if he thought it necessary, but he preferred to be devious. “Good.”