by Eileen Wilks
“I’m not much for talky-talky.”
“No kidding.” At last Beth popped the strawberry in her mouth.
With Beth’s mouth temporarily occupied, Lily’s attention slipped back to the argument she and Rule had tripped over last night. He wanted her to move in with him. He’d been patient, by his lights, but she wasn’t ready. She needed time to adjust to all the changes in her life. And she needed to spend some of that time alone.
He didn’t get that. Nettie had told her that individual lupi, like individual humans, fell in different places along the introvert-extrovert scale. But on the whole, they needed more touch, more contact, more sheer time spent with others than the average human. The wolf was a pack animal, after all.
Strawberry disposed of, Beth asked, “Since you won’t do the talky-talky thing, have you been digging?”
“Waging war on weeds. I can’t use a shovel with one arm.” Rule had offered to dig a bed for her at Clanhome, but that would have changed everything. She did her gardening at Grandmother’s because she didn’t have any land of her own, but that didn’t mean …
“Hey!” Beth’s hand passed in front of Lily’s face. “Where’d you go? You’re pale as a ghost.”
“That’s appropriate,” Lily muttered.
“What?’
She shook her head. “Never mind. I saw … I thought I saw someone I used to know.” Someone who couldn’t be here.
The woman Lily knew only as Helen didn’t know Lily’s family, for one thing. For another, she was dead.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t someone you liked.”
“No.” Lily stared in the direction the woman had gone, vanished now behind a cluster of chattering teens. She’d looked exactly like Helen: tiny build, long blond hair, baby face, eyes as cold and empty as a doll’s.
There she was again, heading for the exit that led to the restrooms. Lily’s heart began throwing itself against the wall of her chest as if desperately seeking escape.
It was crazy to think that she’d seen Helen. Crazy. And yet … “I’m going to freshen up,” she told her sister, moving to follow a woman who couldn’t exist.
Three weeks ago, Lily had killed her.
NANCY Chen obviously enjoyed dancing, and she was good at it. She was tall enough that her steps matched Rule’s well, too. She smelled of tobacco, which he didn’t care for, and baby powder, which he liked. She had a lively sense of humor.
All in all, Rule would have been enjoying their dance if only she’d stop trying to grope him. “Uh-uh,” he said, moving her hand back to his waist. Again.
She grinned. “Can’t blame me for trying. It’s not as if that pretty thing you’re dating would object.”
“I think you don’t know Lily.”
“She can’t be such a fool she doesn’t know about your kind. More power to her, I say, for having the guts to take you on anyway. I hear you can give a lady quite a ride.” She slid him a coquettish glance … and slid her hand down again.
Torn between exasperation and amusement, he reclaimed the wandering hand. This time he kept a grip on it. “I suspect you’ve given quite a ride in your day, too,” he said dryly.
Nancy Chen was eighty-two years old, the great-aunt of the groom.
She laughed. “My day isn’t over. It just doesn’t come as often as it used to. Get it? Doesn’t come.” She laughed again, enjoying herself.
Rule enjoyed her, too, for the remainder of the dance, because he kept her hands pinned. Nancy didn’t expect him to take her propositions seriously—though he suspected that, given an ounce of encouragement, she’d have happily hunted up a closet for them to duck into. Mostly, though, she was getting a kick out of being outrageous.
Some women reacted that way. They went a little giddy over the chance to step outside the normal bonds of society with someone who lived outside them. He was used to that, as he was used to the whiff of fear-scent most people gave off when they met him. But both could be wearying.
He wanted Lily. And she was avoiding him.
Rule made his way around the edges of the banquet room, exerting all his tact to avoid dancing with yet another woman who wasn’t Lily. The air was ripe with scent—food, flowers, candles, humanity, and a faint note of ocean. But he didn’t pick up Lily’s scent, or the tug that would tell him where she was.
The directional aspect of the mate bond wasn’t as obvious for him as it was for her—another of the mysteries that so plagued her. When they’d discovered this during her little test last week, he’d suggested that she was simply more attuned to the immaterial than he was because of her Gift.
Lily had shaken her head in disgust. “That’s not an explanation. That’s substituting one question mark for another.”
A smile twitched at Rule’s mouth as he headed for the other room. His nadia did not approve of the inexplicable.
He wove through the crowd, looking for a small, slender woman with hair the color of night, skin like cream poured over apricots … and a dress the color of mold. His smile widened. Truer love hath no sister than to wear such a gown.
Still no Lily. Rule paused. She wasn’t happy with him right now. Tough. He wasn’t too happy with her, either. She had no business being back on full duty. She wasn’t healed yet, dammit, and why her superiors couldn’t see that, he couldn’t fathom. But she wouldn’t have—
“Rule.” The smooth, feminine voice was newly familiar. He turned to see Lily’s mother beckoning him.
Julia Yu was a tall, elegant woman with beautiful hands, very little chin, and Lily’s eyes set beneath eyebrows plucked to crispness. She stood with two women about her age—one Anglo, one Chinese, both intensely curious about him and trying not to show it.
Rule repressed a sigh. He’d been glad of the chance this wedding offered to become acquainted with Lily’s people. They were part of her, after all, and he was endlessly curious about her. Last night he’d met her parents at the rehearsal dinner, with mixed results. They’d both been very polite, but neither of them approved of him. Her father was reserving judgment, he thought. Her mother liked him, didn’t want to, and wished he would go away.
It was Lily he wanted now, though. He was tired of the curiosity, the fear, the speculation. He might be used to being on exhibit, but it was different this time. Personal. Look, everyone, see what followed Lily home. It walks and talks just like a real person.
But after the briefest of introductions, Julia Yu excused herself to the others and took Rule aside. She’d tucked a frown between those crisp eyebrows. “Have you seen Lily?”
His own brows lifted in surprise. “I was just looking for her.”
“Tch! I’m being silly.” She shook her head. “It’s Beth’s fault, putting ideas in my head, and I’ve been so busy … you have no idea what it is to put on a wedding like this.”
Worry bit down low in his stomach. He replied with automatic courtesy. “You’ve done a magnificent job. The wedding was beautiful, as is the reception. But what ideas did Beth put in your head?”
“Such a silly story! Of course she was imagining things. Beth is very imaginative.” It was impossible to tell if she meant that as a compliment or criticism of her youngest daughter. The frown hadn’t budged. “I paid it no heed at all.”
“What kind of story?”
“She said she saw Lily go into the ladies’ room and followed her. They haven’t had much opportunity to talk lately, you know, so I suppose … but Lily wasn’t there.” Julia’s lips pursed. “Beth swears Lily could not have left without her seeing, but that’s nonsense.”
It had to be. Didn’t it?
Rule stood stock still for a moment. Lily wasn’t far. He knew that. But he hadn’t been able to find her, and the world wasn’t as sane and orderly as it appeared. The realms were shifting.
And three weeks ago, Lily had pissed off a goddess.
“I’ll find her.” He turned away, moving quickly, propelled by an urgency he knew was foolish.
The last place she�
��d been seen was the ladies’ room, so that’s where he headed. The restrooms lay off the hall that connected the private dining rooms to the public part of the restaurant. A knot of unhappy women had collected outside the ladies’ room. He picked up snatches of conversation.
“… anyone sent for the manager?”
“Is there another one?”
“Plenty of stalls, no need to lock the door.”
“… some kind of sadist, if you ask me!”
Someone had locked the door to the ladies’ room. Rule’s mouth went dry. He eased his way through the women, using his size, his smile, and, after a moment, their recognition to part them. “Excuse me, ladies. Pardon me. No, I’m not the manager, but if you’ll step aside …”
“Shannon,” one of them whispered to another, “You dummy! That’s the Nokolai prince!”
That silenced them for a moment. “I think I can fix this if you’ll … thank you,” he said as the last one moved away. An odd, faint odor hung in the air near the door. He bent closer to sniff, but he couldn’t identify it.
Lily was on the other side. He felt her nearness as a slow stir beneath his breastbone. Heart hammering, he rapped on the door. Hollow core.
“That won’t work!” one of the women snapped. “You think we haven’t tried knocking?”
The knob turned, but the door didn’t budge. Bolted on the other side, he judged.
“We tried opening it, too,” the woman said sarcastically.
Rule put his fist through the door.
Wood splintered. Someone shrieked. He reached through the hole he’d made and found the bolt. His blood made it slippery, but he gripped it hard and yanked. He shoved the door open.
Lily lay on her back by the sinks. She wasn’t moving.
TWO
“AND why,” Rule asked with strained patience, “Did you send the EMTs away?”
Lily sat in the middle of the restroom floor in a puddle of muddy green chiffon, petting the white tiles. In the hall by the door, a uniformed officer kept out the curious and the concerned while his partner took statements.
Rule sat on the floor, too—over against the wall, well away from Lily so he wouldn’t mess up the traces left by her attacker.
She frowned at the floor as if someone had written an unwelcome message there in invisible ink. “They wanted to take me to the hospital.”
He stared at the heart of his heart, the one woman in the world for him … the pigheaded, my-way-or-the-highway idiot who’d refused medical treatment. “Imagine that. What were they thinking?”
Her lips twitched. At last she looked away from the fascinating floor. “I’ll go later. My sore head is evidence of a sort, but I really am okay. Unlike you, I didn’t lose any blood—”
“You opened your wound.”
“But it barely bled, and I’m already stuffed full of antibiotics. My sister checked me out.”
“Yes, and said you probably had a concussion—”
“A slight concussion.”
“—and should go to the emergency room and let them run tests.”
“Which would confirm that my head hurts, after which they’d tell me to rest. I’m resting.”
“You’re conducting a bloody be-damned investigation!”
“I don’t have much time before the S.O.C. crew gets here.”
“You’re speaking acronym again.”
She rolled her eyes. “Scene-of-crime crew. I wanted to check things out before they show up. Or Karonski.” She frowned at the floor one last time, and then held out her hand. “I’ve learned all I can. Help me up?”
He rose swiftly, crossed to her, and took her hand. With one gentle tug she was on her feet and in his arms. He nuzzled her hair. Her scent reached inside him, easing him away from anger.
Which left the fear standing alone. He drew a shaky breath. “Dammit, Lily. Your face is the color of sweaty gym socks.”
“I’m so glad you told me that.” But she leaned into him, letting him have the warmth and weight of her—the prickle of arousal and the comfort of connection. He knew she drew strength from the contact, too. She’d come that far in accepting the mate bond. She no longer denied them this out of fear her needs would swallow her.
But she wouldn’t live with him. That, Rule promised himself, would change. After this attack, even Lily couldn’t continue to insist on warping both of their lives to conform to some notion of autonomy.
“The uniform is staring at us,” she muttered.
“Mmm.” The uniform, as she put it, was not happy about having a lupus on the scene. The man’s first impulse had been to arrest Rule on general principles. Dissuaded from that, he’d wanted to remove Rule from the crime scene.
Reasonable enough, from a cop’s point of view, Rule supposed. But he wasn’t leaving Lily. Eventually the officer had accepted that, though it was a toss-up whether it was Lily’s newly minted federal badge, her past status as a homicide cop, or Rule’s simple refusal to leave that had prevailed.
He rubbed his cheek against her hair, trying to breathe her in. And paused. “You smell funny.”
“Hey.” She leaned away. “No more cracks about sweaty socks.”
“Not that kind of funny.” Rule bent, sniffing down her shoulder and along the sling that held her left arm, where the scent was strongest.
“Could you try to be a little less weird?”
“Picture me wagging my tail, and this will seem more natural.” He inhaled deeply, trying to sort the odd scent from all the others. “I can’t place it,” he said, straightening. “Not in this form.”
“Maybe you’re smelling whatever left the traces I felt on the floor.”
Lily was a touch sensitive, perhaps the rarest of the Gifts, and an unusually strong one. She couldn’t be affected by magic, but she could feel it, even the slight traces left by the passage of supernatural beings. His eyebrows lifted. “What did you feel?”
“It was odd. Sort of … orange.”
“Which tells me little.”
“Doesn’t tell me much, either.” She shook her head. “Magic feels like a texture, not a color, yet this … I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
She looked troubled, but Rule felt relief. “It didn’t feel like that damned staff, then.”
Before she could respond, they were interrupted.
“Sorry, ma’am, you can’t go in there.”
That was the officer by the door. A familiar feminine voice replied with a stream of Chinese, followed by another familiar voice—Julia Yu. “I told you they wouldn’t let you in. If they won’t let her own mother in, they won’t make an exception for her grandmother.”
Lily sighed and pulled away. “Grandmother, don’t curse the man for doing his duty.”
“I curse who I curse. You will come out now.”
The old woman standing on the other side of the burly officer was less than five feet tall. Her dress was red, ankle-length, and Oriental style. Black hair striped with silver was drawn up in a knot secured with twin enameled picks, and the ring on one finger held a cabochon ruby. Despite her years, she had a spine like a sapling, supple and erect, and the hauteur of a queen.
Rule couldn’t look at Madame Li Lei Yu without thinking of a cat. She knew she was in charge, whatever the idiots around her might think. Right now, she was a cat who wanted a door opened. Immediately.
Lily gave Rule a wry glance and left the restroom. He followed.
At the west end of the hall another officer was talking with one of the women who’d complained about the locked restroom door. Food smells drifted in from the nearby kitchen, and the sounds of diners in the public part of the restaurant competed with the hum from the rooms occupied by the wedding party.
Here, under the suspicious eyes of the patrol cop, three women made a triangle, with the oldest and smallest of them at its apex. Julia Yu—the one in the middle—touched her daughter’s shoulder, looking anxious. Lily gave her a reassuring smile and turned to he
r grandmother. “I’m here, as instructed.”
“Ha! You do not fool me. You come because you are ready to come.”
Two pairs of black eyes met—one wrapped in wrinkles, one surrounded by smooth young skin. The two women were almost of equal height. Alike in other ways, too, some of them visible. “You don’t want me to neglect my duty,” Lily said.
“Pert,” her grandmother announced. “Always you are pert.” She cupped Lily’s cheek. The skin on the back of her hand was as fine and soft as tissue laid over the strict architecture of bone and tendon. Her nails were red and beautifully tended. “You are well, child?”
Lily smiled into that cupped hand. “Aside from the little guy hammering on my skull from the inside, yes.”
“Then reassure your mother. She worries.”
Julia Yu was indignant. “You were the one who insisted on coming to see for yourself that she was all right. You wouldn’t take my word for it. Or Susan’s, and she’s a doctor.”
Madame Yu ignored that, dropping her hand and turning to Rule. “You do not greet me.”
“I but await my opportunity.” He bent and kissed one whisper-soft cheek.
Her eyebrows shot up. “You flirt with your lover’s grandmother?”
“I flirt with you, Madame. It is irresistible.”
“Good. I like flattery when it is done well. Tell your peculiar friend I wish to see him.”
“Ah … which peculiar friend would that be?”
She chuckled. “You have so many, eh? The beautiful one.”
“She means Cullen,” Lily said dryly.
Of course she did. Rule eyed the old woman, wondering if he wanted to know why she wished to see Cullen. Probably not, he decided. “I’ll give you his phone number, but he doesn’t always answer it.”
“I dislike telephones. You tell him come see me when I return.”
“Return?” Julia Yu frowned. “What are you talking about? You aren’t going anywhere. You don’t like to travel.”
“Tomorrow I get on an airplane. I fly to China.”
In the sudden silence, Rule looked at the faces of the three women. Julia Yu was shocked. Madame Yu was obviously enjoying her daughter-in-law’s reaction. And Lily … her distress was plain, at least to him. It showed in her stillness, her lack of expression, the change in her scent.