Blood Challenge

by Eileen Wilks

  Given the sophistication of the wards around Friar’s property, they were betting on door number three. They were also betting that Brian was being held near the node. The plan was to go in, find him and Dya, subdue whatever militia-types were guarding Brian—and Friar, too, if he was there—and get Brian and Dya out through the tunnel to Friar’s house. Preferably they’d accomplish this before midnight, which was as long as Lily had been willing to wait before she came looking for them. Assuming Cynna Found the tunnel’s entrance by then, that is.

  Who knows? It might even work out that way.

  The tumble of rock on their immediate right hid a crevice that opened onto a tunnel connected to the cave system. Benedict had sent José in earlier to check out the first part of their descent. It would be steep, twisty, and tight.

  Most of them would Change and descend on four feet, except for Sammy and Arjenie. Sammy was the slightest of them. He’d remain two-footed so he could carry their weapons and a pack with some of their clothes. And Arjenie, of course, had to remain two-footed. She’d have a backpack, too, but would have to crawl in places.

  Thus the kneepads. They’d found a pair of gloves for her, too.

  Benedict knelt and wrapped a pad around Arjenie’s left knee. She bent and whispered, “I’m kind of worried about Lucas. It seems like you gave him an awfully big incentive to not believe you.”

  Benedict tightened the pad, checked to make sure it was secure, looked up, and smiled. He whispered back, “He can hear us.”

  “Oh.” She flushed and looked over at the tall, quiet man standing beside Rule—who was looking at her now, one eyebrow raised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . . but since I’ve already got my foot in my mouth, I might as well explain.”

  “No need,” Lucas said pleasantly. “I realize humans have different standards.”

  “Did you just insult me back? If so, I probably deserved it.”

  Benedict fastened the second kneepad in place and stood. “You’re afraid Lucas or his father will prefer keeping the apartment building to publicly acknowledging that Nokolai has been blameless, and that the clans are in danger from her.”

  “Um . . . yes.”

  Lucas’s presence was Isen’s idea. He was a superb fighter, coolheaded and experienced, and so made a valuable addition to their team. But the main reason Isen wanted him along was to bear witness to the other clans. To obtain his Rho’s consent to this, Isen had applied what Rule called blunt force bribery: he’d given the other clan Rule’s apartment building. Temporarily.

  It would serve as a monetary hostage. A very large monetary hostage. Benedict didn’t know what the building was worth—that was Rule’s department—but he’d heard Rule assure Andor that Nokolai’s equity exceeded ten million. If anything happened to Lucas, that equity belonged to Szøs. If Lucas lived but still didn’t believe Nokolai was right about her, that equity belonged to Szøs. Only if what Lucas saw tonight convinced him that Nokolai was right would his Rho sell the building back to Isen for a token amount.

  “If this were a business deal,” Rule said, exchanging a smile with Lucas, “I’d be suitably wary. In such a case I’d expect Andor and Lucas to take any advantage they could of Nokolai—short of outright lying, that is. That would be discourteous. But this isn’t business. It’s a matter of honor.”

  Arjenie nodded seriously. “In many tribal societies, honor is more important than wealth. A Cherokee brave’s status wasn’t dependent on what he owned, for example, because he didn’t own anything. Family property all belonged to the wife. Then there’s the potlach, which is . . .”

  Benedict stopped listening as he bent and pulled off his shoes, then stuffed them in the backpack Arjenie would carry. The lecture on tribal customs was her way of coping with nerves. Facts comforted her, and she was very nervous. Benedict pulled his T-shirt off and wished fiercely and futilely she wasn’t here. Wasn’t going to be part of this. It was too dangerous, and she was no warrior. But the mate bond meant that where he went, she had to go. And reason and the dictates of the mission said she would be extremely useful, given her Gift.

  To hell with the mission. That’s what he’d wanted to say earlier when they were planning this. He hadn’t.

  Her voice drifted off in the middle of something about Australian Aborigines. A frown creased her brows. “I guess it’s time.”

  “Yes.” As his hands went to the snap on his jeans, Rule and Lucas began stripping. Arjenie hadn’t batted an eye earlier when the others stripped before Changing. Her coven, she said, conducted many rituals sky-clad. Group nudity didn’t unsettle her the way it did most humans. Benedict removed his jeans and rolled them up. They’d travel in Arjenie’s backpack.

  He paused and looked at her. For a moment he just looked. She’d braided her hair to keep it out of the way, rendering it temporarily more orderly than he’d ever seen it. Her eyes were large and worried. She smelled like heaven and home and he wanted badly to say something, to give her something to take down into the dark.

  He touched her cheek. “You’ll be careful.”

  “That’s what I’m supposed to say to you. Benedict . . .” She laid her hand over his. “You didn’t want me along, but I need to do this. I can help. I know it.”

  “Yes.” He accepted that. Hated it, but accepted it, just as he accepted his fear for her. He wished he knew what to say . . . oh. Of course. He smiled. “I love you,” he told her, and smiled, and dropped his hand. And Changed.

  A frisky breeze blew in the open windows of Lily’s government Ford. They were parked about a mile from Friar’s house. Waiting.

  Cullen was behind the wheel with Cynna in the front seat beside him. Lily didn’t think she’d ever ridden in her own backseat before, and she didn’t like it. She’d wanted to drive, but had succumbed to reason. The guy with two working arms and no baby in the tummy should do the steering and braking.

  Waiting sucked.

  They’d settled on ten o’clock—the onset of the Challenge—as the best time for Lily to present Friar with the warrant. Rule would fit his party’s efforts into that timeline, if he could. They wanted Friar as distracted as possible during the retrieval.

  As soon as they’d parked, Cullen had started fidgeting like a three-year-old. Cynna had dug a crossword puzzle magazine out of her purse. He’d been working it ever since. In the dark.

  Lily couldn’t do that, dammit, or much of anything else. If this had been a stakeout, at least she’d have had a focus. But someone else had that duty—one of Benedict’s guards. She’d checked with him when she arrived. Friar hadn’t left his house since he returned late yesterday afternoon.

  Robert Friar lived at the end of a short gravel lane off a narrow county road. There was a gate and a sign warning people that the lane was private, but according to Benedict, the gate was usually left open. It was open tonight. She’d had Cullen drive by so she could check before parking on the shoulder of the county road to wait.

  Waiting gave her way too much time to think.

  She was afraid for Rule. It rode in her gut, that fear, like a ball of maggots. Every now and then one of those maggots wormed its way up to her brain and she started thinking about all the things that could go wrong . . . about Rule trapped beneath the earth and how he hated small, tight spaces, and how shaky this whole plan was when they knew so damn little . . .

  Shut up, she told herself, and stuffed those maggot-thoughts back down. “Are you napping?” she asked Cynna.

  “Huh?” Cynna’s head jolted up from the headrest. “Oh—guess I did doze off. Happens all the time these days.” She twisted around to look at Lily. “I’d offer you a crossword puzzle book, too, but . . .”

  “Since I can’t read in the dark, it wouldn’t be much of a distraction.”

  Her arm itched horribly. Not on the wound, but between it and her elbow—a spot she could not possibly reach. The wound itself wasn’t hurting much. After talking to Benedict, Lily had asked Nettie to put her in sleep for a bit, kno
wing she needed to be as rested and alert as possible. Then they’d all eaten a light supper, then she’d stolen a few minutes alone with Rule, then he’d had to leave, then Isen did, then at last it had been time for her, Cullen, and Cynna to leave. So they could sit here. And wait.

  Maybe she should have brought someone else with her. Cullen’s quasi-official status was a plus for her, but Rule might need him. Sure, Arjenie could sense wards, but she couldn’t see them or throw fire or fight or . . .

  Did she really want to make herself crazy? Second-guessing everything was a great way to do that. She drummed on her thigh.

  “What’s a nine-letter word for flawed?” the man in the front seat asked.

  “Seabourne.”

  “You’re good.” He flashed her a grin. “But not quite accurate. If we’re talking morals, then yes, that is sadly true. But if we’re talking sexual prowess and creativity—”

  “Let’s not.”

  Cynna chuckled. “He’s had to be creative, as big as I am now. The upside is that I’m really sensitive down there. The sensations get intense. It’s the one time I don’t fall asleep these days.”

  “If talking about sex helps you pass the time . . .” Lily gave in and looked at her watch. “Never mind. It’s time.”

  “Thank God.” Cullen tossed the magazine on the floor and reached for the key in the ignition. “Have I mentioned that I’m not a patient person?”

  “Being a trained and careful observer, I’d already noticed that.”

  At last they were moving, air streaming in through the windows. Lily wondered just how uncomfortable Rule was right now.

  FORTY-THREE

  RULE hated the air underground. It was still and dead and there never seemed to be enough of it. The last, of course, was all in his head. He knew that, just as he knew it was being underground that got to him, not the quality of the air.

  Didn’t matter. He still hated it.

  At least that first, hellishly tight stretch was well behind them. And while Rule’s ribs ached, the pain wasn’t bad. Nettie had helped with that. And Arjenie was holding up well. She’d made it through the worst of the squeezes without a murmur of complaint. She wasn’t bothered by small spaces, she said.

  Just bugs. Rule smiled slightly. Caves held more fauna than one might suspect—mostly creepy-crawlies. Arjenie’s Gift was a drawback there. She was drawing lightly on her power, just enough to be sure she’d sense a ward if they drew near one. That was more than enough to confuse vermin. A spider the size of Rule’s fist had failed to notice her even as it scampered over her foot.

  Arjenie had certainly noticed the spider.

  Otherwise, she was doing well for someone who claimed to be fearful. Oh, she was afraid—Rule smelled it on her—but what of it? So was he. So were they all, to varying degrees. Fear wasn’t the problem. What the mind did with that fear was. Arjenie was coping with her fear, and with the uneven footing and darkness.

  Not that the blackness was absolute. Even lupi can’t see in the utter absence of light. Light made them too damn visible in this thick darkness, but they had to see. Aside from the literal pitfalls, like that crevice they’d passed earlier, they couldn’t risk getting lost down here. Earlier, Cullen had taught Arjenie the trick of making mage lights, and bobbing along with them were two faint globes of light. Very faint. Their hope was that anyone else down here would be using much brighter lights, which might blind them to such a dim glow.

  So far it hadn’t mattered. Their route was clearly not used by Friar’s people. There was no trace of human scent . . . which, he told himself, was good. It did not mean they were wandering far afield, lost beneath the earth.

  That was the sort of trick fear could play on the mind—creating scenarios and weighting them with too much likelihood. If Lily were here, he could have taken her hand and soothed his discomfort. He’d grown accustomed to that, hadn’t he? But he was glad she wasn’t here. For once she’d be away from the worst danger.

  His wolf disagreed. Wolves hunted with their mates, and that part of him disapproved of going on this hunt without her. He could have kept her safe.

  Good thing the man was in charge. Lily was in no shape for these rough, twisty tunnels. He glanced at his watch. Almost ten. He thought of his father—then shut that thought off. Concentrate on what he could affect, not what was outside his control. They had about two hours to find Brian and Dya and remove them before Lily would start down Friar’s tunnel.

  Benedict lifted a hand in the universal signal to stop. Rule did, lifting his own hand to make sure those behind saw. They were drawn out single file at the moment because the walls along here varied from skin-scraping to narrow. Benedict first, then Arjenie, followed by Rule, Lucas, Sammy, and Paul, with José at their rear. Benedict had the lead because his ears were the best and he had an uncanny sense of direction. Arjenie had to be close to the front so she’d sense any wards—and her remarkable memory was a help, too. They’d all studied the 3-D map, and had brought printouts of its 2-D version, but Arjenie could recite their route, complete with depth notations.

  Benedict had frozen, studying something ahead. He held up his hand again, emphasizing that they should stay put, and eased ahead until he was swallowed by darkness.

  Rule saw nothing, heard nothing, for what seemed a very long time, but was probably five minutes. Finally his brother reemerged from the blackness ahead. Once Benedict reached them he made the signs for trail, jump, and down, paused, then added the sign for water.

  Lucas tapped Rule’s arm. Rule leaned close and subvocalized. “There’s a drop-off ahead. And water.”

  Benedict put his mouth next to Arjenie’s ear, no doubt telling her the same thing. Like Lucas, she didn’t know ASL. Rule wasn’t fluent in it, but everyone who trained under Benedict learned a few basics. Subvocalizing was useful if you were close enough, but with sign you could speak to the whole team without making a sound as long as you were in their visual range.

  They continued single file, and within a few feet he picked up the damp scent of water. Rule’s heartbeat quickened in anticipation. There was a twenty-two-foot drop-off marked on the USGC map of their route. The map hadn’t indicated anything about water, but there were a number of things it didn’t include.

  They’d chosen their route not because it was the quickest or shortest, but because there were fewer branchings where they could take a wrong turn. Since they’d passed the mouths of two tunnels that weren’t on the map, Rule wanted to conclude that the mapmakers had been less than thorough. The alternative would be that they were lost.

  He hadn’t entirely convinced himself. If this drop-off was the expected twenty-two feet, he’d feel much more cheerful. It would also mean they were getting close to their destination.

  That was a too-familiar spot. The last time Rule had been there he’d been a prisoner. So had Lily and Cullen. He’d watched his bother die, sacrificing himself for Rule. And Lily had fought and killed Helen. Oh, yes, he thought fiercely. He was very glad she wasn’t here. She didn’t need to revisit the place of her nightmares.

  Benedict stopped and turned.

  Rope? Rule signed. At Benedict’s nod, Rule turned and signed to Sammy, who passed up the coil of rope he’d been carrying.

  Rule moved close to Arjenie and whispered barely above a breath next to her ear. “Pull harder on your Gift and see if you sense anything below.”

  She nodded, paused, then shook her head, mouthing a silent “no.” He nodded, gave her a smile, and moved to the edge.

  This time, Rule would take the lead. They’d known that at least one point would require a climb, so had planned for it. Arjenie couldn’t fight, so she needed to be the last down, just in case. Once Rule reached the bottom and signaled, the rest would take turns belaying each other, leaving Benedict and Arjenie for last. Her skills did not include shimmying down a rope or rock climbing. If there was a place to tie off the rope, Benedict would use it to descend with Arjenie riding piggyback. If not, Benedict
would lower her, and Rule and the rest would form a pyramid to catch her. Then Benedict would climb down.

  That was assuming the drop wasn’t more than, say, twenty-two feet.

  Lucas took the other end of the Rope as Rule lowered himself over the edge.

  It would have been an easy descent if his ribs hadn’t been sore. As it was, he had no real difficulty. He simply hurt more than he liked. Arjenie sent one of the dim mage lights with him, which helped. The smell of water strengthened as he descended. Stagnant water, he decided. A pool of some sort . . . yes, he could see it dimly reflecting the mage light—a small pool in the center of a small rocky chamber. High ceiling, he noted with relief. Thirty feet or more.

  The ground, when he reached it, was dry. That was good. Even better, his estimate for the descent was about twenty feet. Best of all, he saw light.

  More accurately, he saw a patch of dimness rather than stark black at the mouth of a tunnel to his left, just where memory told him the map had shown it. He bent his attention to his ears, but didn’t hear anything. But what was that smell? Not airborne, he thought. The air remained deadly still. He crouched, lowering his face close to the ground.

  Something warm-blooded had passed this way in the last week or so. Not a human, he thought, though in this form he couldn’t be sure. He straightened. Once the others were down, he’d have Sammy Change and see what he could learn. But now it was time to get them down. He tugged once on the rope.

  One by one they came. No need to form a pyramid; once down, Sammy told Rule—subvocalizing—that Benedict had tied off the rope. As soon as those two were down, Rule signed smell and Change and pointed to Sammy. The young redhead had an excellent nose and could Change twice in a row without needing to rest.

  A moment later, a tawny wolf stood on the empty clothes that had fallen to the ground when he blended himself into and through an unreal dimension. He shook his head once as if to clear it, then started sniffing at the ground. He took a step, then looked at Rule.