by Eileen Wilks
“Sam?” Rule said.
Chimei can travel between realms. It would be costly to her, however. I had not considered this possibility. I will do so. He was silent a moment. I believe Cynna Weaver has changed the parameters again with her idea. I am able to tell you that this would be a temporary solution. If you are able to banish the sorcerer and if the Chimei follows her lover—which is far from certain—she will seek to free him and return here.
“How temporary?” Rule asked.
I cannot say. Twenty years, fifty, a few hundred . . . a considerable delay by your standards, I suppose.
“It could work.” Lily’s mind was starting to buzz with possibilities. “I’ll call Ruben. No, shit, why bother? I’d have to be able to tell him about the Chimei.” She looked at Rule. “You can tell him.”
“He’s coming here tomorrow,” Rule began.
Lily’s phone interrupted with “The Star-Spangled Banner.” It was clipped to her jacket pocket, so she had to retrieve that to get the phone and accept the call. “Lily Yu here.”
“I’m glad you still are. I heard about the fire,” Ruben said.
She winced. “I should have called. Everything’s happened pretty fast, but I should have called. Cullen’s okay. All of our people are, but there were casualties. The . . .” She paused, waiting to see if the damned geas would stop her.
To her surprise, it didn’t. “The perp’s a sorcerer. Evidence suggests he started two fires here—I’m at the hospital—using magic, plus he used some kind of broadcast spell to knock people out, so this is our case. Magic used in the commission of a felony. He wanted a distraction so he could plant a bomb in Cullen’s room. Rule found the bomb and tossed it out a window.”
“Mr. Turner is certainly competent.”
“I think so, too. This perp’s the one who tried to kill Cullen last night. He’s a sorcerer, like I said, capabilities largely unknown, but he’s powerful. I caught a glimpse of a man I believe was him. The man is Asian, apparent age between thirty and fifty, clean-shaven, height between five-three and five-six, weight maybe one-forty. He might be Chinese. Han Chinese, specifically. I think he is. He didn’t look Mongolian or Korean or Japanese. I think he’s a pro. A hitter. He likes to use a knife strike to the heart, but he can change up if he needs to. He used a bomb today.”
There was a moment’s silence. “That’s substantially more information than you gave me this morning.”
“When he started burning things, the, ah, the binding on me changed. It didn’t go away, but the terms of it changed. I need to tell you about the other perp. She’s the real problem. She—” Her voice shut off. Just closed up. “I can’t. I can’t say anything more.”
“Interesting. I—”
The door opened. Lily dropped her phone and had her weapon in her hand before she even thought of it.
Nettie stepped in, with Jason behind her. “Sorry. Should have knocked first. We’ve got an ambulance waiting. Rule, we’re short on personnel. I need you to handle one end of the gurney. Jason can tell you what to do. Cynna, you’ll have to follow in a car. There isn’t room in the ambulance.”
Lily put up her weapon and bent to pick up the phone. It still worked. “Sorry,” she told Ruben. “I, ah, dropped the phone and didn’t hear that last part. Nettie and Jason are here. They’re ready to move Cullen.”
“I said that I’d run a check on your possible hitter.”
“I looked for similars already. There’s a real dearth of top-dollar Asian killers who like to use a knife to the heart, partly because most hitters prefer a gun. There’s one woman who might be Asian who likes knives—descriptions for her vary from Puerto Rican to Italian to Asian—but my perp’s definitely male. There’s a Japanese hitter who uses a blade, but he’s in top-security lockup in Kansas.”
“Hmm. Did you have Ida query other nations?”
“Ah—not specifically.”
“I’ll look into it. I can see this isn’t the time to request a report, but I need your attention for one more moment. I called in part to assure myself you were uninjured, but I also wanted to let you know that my sense of urgency increased just before I heard about the fire at the hospital. I’m flying out today instead of tomorrow. I should arrive shortly before ten your time.”
“You want me to pick you up?”
“Thank you, but no. Ida has arranged all that. Take care, Lily.” He disconnected.
Lily frowned as she slid the phone in her slacks pocket, clipping it to the material. “You heard that?” she said to Rule as he came up to her.
He nodded. “I’ll be going with Cullen.”
“I heard.” Grandmother had left her chair and was saying something to Cynna, who nodded seriously. Nettie and Jason began the business of transferring Cullen to the gurney.
“After that, I need to go see Toby. Also my father and the Rhej.”
Her frown deepened. That sounded like clan business—well, not the part about Toby, but the rest. She couldn’t imagine what had happened that could be seen as clan business. And couldn’t ask, dammit, with non-clan present.
Rule smiled and rubbed his thumb between her brows as if he could erase the frown. “I’ll explain later. You’ll be tied up here awhile.”
“Yeah. I’ve got something brewing for tonight. A lead on the sorcerer, maybe.”
“There are some things you need to tell me, too, it seems.”
She nodded. “No time now. You’re wanted.”
He quirked his brows in a way that gave an annoyingly accurate double meaning to her words, then turned to help with the gurney. In a moment, they were gone.
All except Grandmother. It dawned on Lily that this might be a problem. She went to the old woman, who was two inches shorter than her. It was easy to forget that—in part because Grandmother seldom allowed others to stand around her. “Have you got transportation? You said you’d been walking. I might be able to get someone to drive you, but it could be a while.”
For a moment Grandmother didn’t respond. Then she smiled, oddly tender, and patted Lily’s cheek. “You please me, Granddaughter. All my grandchildren please me, but it has been a special joy to watch you Becoming.”
Flustered beyond words, Lily did the one thing that occurred to her. She bent ever so slightly and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. The tingle of magic on her lips was dear, familiar, unique.
It didn’t feel like dragon magic. It felt like Grandmother’s magic.
Grandmother’s smile lingered. “You are upset because I did not tell you of your heritage.”
“I . . . yes. Yes, I am. Your story is your own, but that part, about my magic being from dragons—that was about me, too.”
Grandmother nodded. “Our stories are never completely our own. This is illusion. They are also the stories of our fathers and mothers, our children and ancestors, of all those we brush against for one second, or laugh with, or love, or fight, or kill. Mostly we do not see this, but it is so. This part of my story, which is also yours, belongs to Sam as well. When magic grew thin here and dragons removed to Dis, I did not go with them. With him. I needed a child, which he could not give me, so I remained.
“He returned me to this form, which was capable of children. This was a powerful working, and cost him much. He did this for love of me, knowing my need. He asked of me one thing: that if I should have a child and if that child, or that child’s child, should bear anything of him, I was not to speak of it or allow the child to know. That was his to do.
“I agreed. He could have asked a great deal more. I would have agreed, for love of him.”
Lily swallowed. This was a Mt. Everest of candor and revelation, and it moved her near to tears. “He expected to return.”
“He knew he would. He did not know when.”
“And he . . . he wanted to be the one to tell me about my heritage?”
“You wonder why. I know, as much as one may know such things about another, but I do not speak of it. That is very much his story, and a d
ragon story, and you are not dragon. You have an inheritance from dragons, but you are not dragon. He will tell you himself, or he won’t.”
“Is there . . . is there more you haven’t told me? More I should know, because it’s my story, too?”
Lily saw something rare on Grandmother’s face then. Pure surprise. It flashed over her, melding almost instantly into a chuckle. “Oh, you are bright. Yes. There is more, and I will not speak of it today. I have reasons, which may be wrong or right, but are my best judgment. If I should die in the next few days—”
“Grandmother!”
“I do not intend it, child. But the Chimei is a formidable enemy, and she longs for my death. If I should die with these other matters untold, it will be left to Li Qin to choose the time and place of the telling.”
“Li Qin? Not Sam?”
“That part of my story is a woman’s story, and not for Sam to tell. Enough.” Grandmother’s posture changed subtly, yet unmistakably. The time for stories and candor was at an end. She glanced around. “Is there a telephone here?”
“A telephone?” Lily’s mind was in too many places at once. She couldn’t imagine why Grandmother—who hated telephones—suddenly wanted one.
“I require a taxicab.”
“I can get you a taxi.” Lily reached in her pocket for her phone. “But you hate them. You say they’re all driven by incompetent apes who—”
“Bah. I have survived things you could hardly conceive. I can survive a ride in a taxicab.”
Lily touched the app that gave her the Yellow Pages—and on impulse, searched for a different listing from “taxicabs.” A smile tugged at her mouth. “How about a limo instead?”
“A limousine.” Grandmother’s eyes lit with humor and delight. “A very large one.”
“Long and shiny.”
“And black. I do not care for the white ones.”
“Long, shiny, and black. With a uniformed driver.”
Grandmother approved this with a nod. “Your mother,” she announced, “will be surprised.”
Oh, God, yes. Was it terrible of her to want to watch?
It took a few moments to arrange—moments she probably shouldn’t have used this way. But Grandmother’s childlike delight was impossible to resist. Lily prepaid with her credit card—Grandmother didn’t have a purse with her, and there were no pockets for a wallet in those slacks.
Besides, this was her gift. “They’ll pick you up on Vista Hill,” she said after disconnecting. She grabbed her jacket, but didn’t put it on. “I’m afraid the nearer roads are still closed, but maybe I can get you a lift to the pickup spot. I’ll walk downstairs with you.”
“You have far too much to do to escort me.”
“True,” Lily said, unreasonably cheerful. “But I need to do some of it with Hennessey and Dreyer, who are downstairs.”
“Very well.”
They left the room together. As they reached the door to the stairwell Lily said, “There’s one more thing I’d like to ask.”
“Yes?” Grandmother waited for Lily to open the door for her.
She did. It was still stinking hot in the stairwell, she noted glumly. “Where have you been? Where could you hide that this Chimei couldn’t find you?”
“I would think you could figure that out.” This was said with great satisfaction. She moved ahead of Lily to the stairs. “I have been at the zoo.”
Incredulous, Lily repeated, “The zoo?”
“Of course.” Grandmother started down the stairs as nimbly as if heat and age were equally unimportant. “The Chimei never knew me in my other form. I did not possess that ability until long after we defeated her in Luan, so she could not find me once I transformed. And where else may a tiger hide comfortably in San Diego?”
THIRTY-ONE
IT was hours before Lily was able to leave the hospital. When she did, it was still too damned hot.
She carried her jacket as she headed for her car. Her shirt stuck to her. Normally she didn’t even notice her shoulder harness, no more than she’d notice she was wearing shoes. At the moment she was aware of every inch of it pressing against her, holding in the heat.
To the west, out over the ocean, clouds were piling up, dark mounds capped by incandescent white. She sneered at them. Twice during the current heat wave, storms had built up out at sea—and busted their guts without coming in to land, leaving the city as hot and parched as ever.
Damned teasing clouds.
She’d made sure the FBI’s crime scene people played nicely with the local arson investigators. Both teams might come up with useful evidence, and even if the plan was to evict the sorcerer from their realm, they’d need to prove they had the right perp. She’d made sure Dreyer’s people asked witnesses about an Asian man in scrubs. Unsurprisingly, some people had seen such a man. Lily had spoken with some of them to see if he might be her perp.
Mostly, no. There were plenty of Asian doctors on staff, and most of the reported sightings were either of a physician the person knew, or they were in the wrong place. Some were possible, though.
She really needed a picture of him. A name would be good. While she was wishing, she might as well toss in a call from Zhou Xing giving her the hitter’s contact info. She . . .
Her phone played harp music. That was Cynna. She grabbed it. “This is Lily. What’s up?”
“He fixed it! Sam undid the spell on Cullen’s heart.”
“He did? Already?”
“Well, Cullen and Sam did it together. Sam studied the spell for a couple hours. He just lay there staring at Cullen, not moving, not even a twitch. Every now and then he’d sort of hum. Finally he said he had the key to the spell, but it would be difficult to unsing because of the spell’s blood-tie to Cullen. But Cullen had an idea about using this wan chi spell—that’s way cool, by the way. He learned it from your grandmother, and it’s a carrier spell, and they’re usually just used as part of another spell so it will go where you want it. But this wan chi spell is different because you can use it on someone else’s spell, which makes it good for defense. If you have it ready, you can deflect the other guy’s spell. Uh—where was I?”
Lily grinned. “Sounding like Cullen.” Who loved to talk about the theory and nuances of spellcraft.
“I do, don’t I? Anyway, the other thing about the wan chi spell is it’s powered by blood. So Cullen pricked his finger and Sam sang this note—he can hold a note a really long time—and Cullen used the wan chi spell to carry Sam’s unsinging into his heart. Blood to blood, see? And the bad spell just fell apart.”
“That’s good. That’s really, really good.” Lily struggled to find words. “That’s damned wonderfully, marvelously good. So Cullen’s going to heal now? His body’s doing its lupus thing?”
Cynna laughed. “Nettie says he doesn’t need her anymore. She put him back in sleep and she’s going to hang around another hour or two, just to be sure, then go home and go to sleep herself. For a day or two, she said. The damage is pretty small, really, not like when he had to regrow a whole foot and ankle. Regrowing parts takes a lot longer than closing up a cut.”
It wasn’t just a cut. It was a cut to the heart, so some of his healing magic would be spent keeping him alive while he healed it, which meant it would heal more slowly than a cut to the leg or arm. But Lily knew what Cynna meant. “It won’t be long before he’s driving you crazy, trying to do stuff he shouldn’t.”
“Ha! I’ve got a dragon keeping an eye on him. Let him argue with Sam.”
He probably would. Lily’s grin spread even wider. “Yeah, but Li Qin is there, too. Even Cullen won’t argue with her. You just can’t, somehow. Have you called Rule yet?”
“I don’t—yeah, wait. Nettie’s signaling me that she’s got him on the phone now. She called Isen already. It’s a clan thing,” Cynna said apologetically, as if she were responsible. “The Rho had to hear first.”
“I guess.” Isen had declared clan-offense, after all. Lily wasn’t sure that ma
de up for not telling Rule first, but Rule probably wouldn’t agree.
She paused to look around. She’d reached the street where her car was supposed to be, according to the patrol officer T.J. had coerced into bringing it to her. Where . . . Oh, there it was.
Things were looking up. She updated Cynna briefly on the investigation while she climbed into the oven that was her front seat, wincing when she touched the steering wheel. She got the engine started—and with it, the a/c. “Um . . . could I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.” Cynna was still riding the cheerful wave.
“Why did you decide to marry Cullen? I mean, as opposed to living with him. Was it for the baby?”
“Yes and no, and I’ll give you more if you tell me why you’re asking.”
No mistaking the curiosity in Cynna’s voice. “I’m not having doubts,” she said firmly. “I know that marrying Rule is right. I just don’t know why.”
“Uh . . . because you love him?”
“That’s true whether I marry him or not.” Lily grabbed her headset, touched the RECEIVE button, and slid it on so she could drive. The car wasn’t anything like cool yet, but the steering wheel wouldn’t burn her fingers now. Probably. She slipped the phone into its dashboard holder and said, “With the mate bond, we’ve already got the forever thing. So why marriage, when it’s going to cause who knows how much trouble with the clans?”
“But you’re not having doubts.”
“It’s more like I need to get everything lined up.”
“Like in your closet.” Cynna chuckled. “Okay. I don’t know if it will help, but I married Cullen . . . well, two reasons, really. He needed the forever promise, so I wanted to give that to him. And I wanted us to be a family. An official family. We’d be the baby’s family without that piece of paper, but we wouldn’t be each other’s family, if you see what I mean.”
Lily had more family than she wanted sometimes. Cynna had no one. No family at all, save for a father she’d never known until a few months ago—a father who lived in another realm. “That makes good sense. Excellent sense.”