by Eileen Wilks
“Obviously it wasn’t anything Leidolf did officially, because you’re their Rho. But is there any chance someone from that clan acted . . . you know, unsanctioned?”
“If they did . . .” One of the mantles in Rule’s gut stirred, and a chill place opened inside him. His voice dropped. “If someone took that upon himself, Leidolf will deliver a full apology to Nokolai.”
“You’re worrying the Parwanis.”
“The what?”
“Them.” She waved at the other end of the room. The Pakistani family—matriarch, youngish couple, and toddler—were staring at him. The toddler giggled. The others, as Cynna said, did look anxious. “I’m not hungry,” he growled, annoyed. “Do I look hungry?”
“You look pissed. You look like you meant you’d deliver a body, not an apology.”
That was precisely what he meant, but in an effort to do better with the reassuring, he didn’t say so. “In some ways it would be convenient if the attacker were an unsanctioned Leidolf assassin, but I can’t imagine one penetrating Clanhome at such a time. Even if he got past Benedict’s guards and no one recognized his face in that crowd, he would still smell of Leidolf.”
She frowned. “Lily said something about it maybe being an Asian guy. I don’t . . . What is it?”
He’d turned away from her to face the door. Footsteps in the hall . . . soft-soled footsteps like dozens of others that had passed, almost inaudible even to him with so many other noises masking them. He didn’t know why these particular footsteps had brought him to alert, but—
A tall woman in green scrubs paused in the doorway. Smiling.
“He’s good,” Cynna said, bouncing on her toes. She took two quick steps toward Nettie, stopped, and grinned back at Rule. “Didn’t I tell you? I told you he’d be okay. My gut knew it.”
“You did.” He came to her and put an arm around her, right where her waist used to be. “You’re crying.”
She dashed a hand across her face, her grin shining through the dampness. “Of course I’m crying. It makes sense to cry now. Can I go see him? Lily said I need to watch out for him. The perp could try again. I need to . . .”
She wobbled suddenly. Rule tightened his arm. “You need to sit.”
“Weird. I’m not going to . . . I don’t faint.”
“Of course not, but you will sit down now.” Rule half carried her to the nearest chair—which was a couple seats from a young teen, who’d been texting the whole time she’d been here. The girl looked up, amazed. Perhaps she’d just now noticed there were others in the room. He lowered Cynna carefully and knelt in front of her. “Head down.”
“I don’t faint,” she repeated, but didn’t resist when he gently pushed her head as far toward her knees as it would go with her expanded tummy in the way.
Nettie sat in the chair beside Cynna and rubbed her bent back.
“I’m fine,” Cynna informed her feet.
“Of course you are,” Nettie agreed, “but keep your head down a moment or two. It will make the rest of us feel better.”
The barest intake of breath alerted Rule. Lily stood in the doorway with Jason directly behind her. She stared at Cynna, stricken.
TEN
“CULLEN’S okay,” Rule said quickly, rising and going to her. “Cynna turned dizzy from relief, that’s all.”
“Okay.” She nodded firmly. “That’s okay, then.”
He asked very low, “Did you find him?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t expect you to leave the scene this soon unless you’d identified the attacker.”
“Turns out I know one of the deputies they sent. He’s a good cop. He’ll do the job.”
He understood what she hadn’t said: she’d wanted to be here, with him, in case the news was bad. Rule took her hand and squeezed, then glanced at Jason, lifting his eyebrows in question.
Lily answered the unspoken question. “Cullen will need a nurse. Ah, Rule, who gave you that T-shirt?”
“Modean Webster. She’s a large woman, so she thought it would fit, which. . . . ah,” he said, looking where she was. “I hadn’t noticed that.” The T-shirt read in small letters, “Well-behaved women rarely make history.”
“It needs a postscript,” he said. “Something like, ‘I’m Rule Turner, and I approved this message.’ ”
That made her grin.
“Approved what?” Cynna said. “Oh, never mind. I’m fine, Nettie. Really.” She stood to prove it. “See? No one listens to me, even though I was right. Wasn’t I right, Rule? I said he’d be okay.”
He turned, his smile coming easily now. “You were right. You get unlimited I-told-you-sos.”
“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.” Cynna’s grin spread. She stretched. “I’m glad that’s over. When can I go see him?”
“Soon,” Nettie said, standing. “But—”
Lily spoke. “One of us has to be with him. He needs to be guarded.”
“Shit. Yes.” Cynna frowned. “You said something about that earlier.”
“Cynna.” Nettie stood and took Cynna’s hands. “You can go see him very soon, but I need to tell you something first. The surgery was a success, but Cullen’s recovery may be . . . difficult.”
Worry flashed through Cynna’s eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I called it poison initially. It isn’t. I could have eliminated a poison. I think it’s a spell, but I can’t identify it and wasn’t able to rid him of it. This is difficult to put in words, but I more or less forced the intruding agent, whatever it is, to expend itself until it reached a level his healing can cope with. At this point, though, the intrusion is still there and active.”
Cynna’s throat worked as she swallowed. “But he’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”
“He’s okay now. Long term, of course, we want to find a way to get that intrusion out of him.”
“I need to see him. I need to be there.” She glanced at Lily. “I want to know what you’ve learned, too, but—”
“Later,” Lily told her. “I’ll fill you in later, when I relieve you.”
“Relieve me? But you’ll be . . . You’ve got to find him. Or her. Whoever did this. You can’t just stand guard.”
“Right now I don’t have anyone else who’s qualified to act as guard. Ah . . .” She glanced at Nettie. “I’ve already contacted the hospital’s administration. Cullen will receive no visitors, and regular hospital personnel will not be allowed in his room, except for you.”
Nettie frowned. “Cullen needs ongoing care. Professional care. That’s why we’re in a hospital rather than at Clanhome.”
“That’s why I brought Jason. He’s not on staff here, but he’s qualified. We’ll need more than one nurse, I suppose, but he can handle it for now.”
A rare spark of temper lingered in Nettie’s eyes. “I suppose that will work temporarily. Jason doesn’t have his RN yet, but he’s an experienced LVN. He can handle both nursing and orderly duties for now.”
“Good. Where’s Cullen? Cynna needs to be with him.”
“He’s in post-op. Visitors aren’t allowed there. Have you made arrangements to change that as well?”
Nettie had spoken sarcastically. Lily answered straightforwardly. “Cynna’s officially part of security, so yes, that’s taken care of. Jason, you know where post-op is?” When he nodded she went on to Cynna. “Take Jason’s and Nettie’s patterns so you can confirm who they are. Mine, too, and Rule’s, if you don’t have them.”
“I’ll take Jason’s, but I don’t need to with the rest. When it’s someone I know well I don’t have to take a pattern.”
“Good. Allow no one in the room with Cullen unless you can confirm who it is. Do you have your weapon?”
Cynna nodded grimly.
“Okay. Go. I’ll join you as soon as possible.”
Cynna and Jason left. Lily turned to Nettie. “I didn’t want Cullen carried in the records under his name, so when you look for your patient, look for Adrian Fisher, a
patient who’s been here since Tuesday.”
“You’re thorough.”
“And you’re pissed. I’ve trespassed in your territory.”
After a moment, Nettie sighed. “Never let it be said that lupi are the only territorial critters around. Yes, you have, and I reacted poorly.”
Rule went to Nettie. Up close, she gave off the faint, acrid scent of exhaustion. He dropped a hand on the back of her neck, using his fingers to unknot some of the tension. “Maybe because you’re exhausted, drained, and scared. Cullen’s not in good shape, is he?”
Nettie leaned her head back, her eyes closing. “Do that for another hour or so. No, he isn’t. He’s been through open heart surgery, and that—that intrusion is still there, still affecting him. Not as strongly as it was, thank the Mother, or he’d be dead, but I have no idea what his prognosis is.”
Lily spoke with quiet urgency. “Could this be like that demon poison that kept Rule’s leg from healing? Is it like that?”
God, he hoped not. Rule kept rubbing Nettie’s neck, but tension overtook his own muscles. His body hadn’t been able to throw that off, and if such a poison was in Cullen’s heart . . .
“I don’t think so.” Nettie frowned, opening her eyes. “I didn’t examine Rule when he was infected with that, so I can’t truly compare the two. That was localized at first, though, wasn’t it? This is, too, but it isn’t completely preventing healing.” She hesitated. “It reminds me of a Vodun curse.”
“How so?”
Nettie lifted a hand vaguely. “The feel of it. A Vodun curse uses something from the victim’s body—nail clippings, hair, or blood—to focus an ill-wishing. This has the same feel. Not identical, but similar. The spell or intrusion has Cullen’s body fighting his healing magic.” She sighed. “I nearly killed him before I figured that out. I kept trying to heal his body, but giving his body energy fed the ill magic, too. I had to switch to feeding his natural magic.”
Rule squeezed Nettie’s nape gently. “You’ve emptied yourself. You need rest.”
“I won’t argue with that. I plan to kick one of the residents out of the bunk they use.”
“Do you want to use my apartment instead? Or a hotel? There’s a Sheraton nearby.”
She shook her head. “I can’t be that far from him. At the moment, Cullen’s magic is winning the fight, but the balance is . . . iffy. “
“Before you go,” Lily said, “could you take a minute to describe the wound? I need to know what the dimensions of the blade were, where it entered, the angle.”
“Thin blade,” Nettie said promptly. “Maybe half an inch wide and extremely thin. It was inserted between the fifth and sixth ribs and angled up to enter the left ventricle—”
“Wait, wait. Show me.” Lily grabbed Rule and turned him so his back was to Nettie. “Show me where it went in, what kind of angle we’re talking about.”
His eyebrows rose, but he complied. With his back to the women, he had a good view of the Parwanis, who watched in silent alarm as Nettie probed his back slightly to the left of his spine.
“Here,” she said. “The blade entered between these ribs. The angle was about like this.”
He looked over his shoulder to see her miming a thrust.
“That looked awkward,” Lily said. “Maybe our perp was shorter than you are, relative to Rule.” She moved directly behind Rule and made the same thrusting motion with her fist. “Not this much shorter, though. I can’t get the right angle. Rule, crouch down a bit.”
Obediently he bent his knees. The Parwanis were perturbed. The young husband said something to the matriarch. Rule heard it, but couldn’t translate—Urdu wasn’t one of his languages. “I can tell you that the attacker was shorter than Cullen,” he said. “Nettie, are you sure the blade was only a half inch wide?”
“It might be less. It’s not more.”
Lily said, “Nettie, see if you can achieve the same angle and entry point.”
Again Nettie mimed a blow to his back.
“Still doesn’t look smooth,” Lily observed. “Crouch a bit more, Rule, and let’s try it again.”
He did. Nettie tapped his back again.
“That looks right,” Lily said.
The Parwanis had had enough. The matriarch issued instructions, and the lot of them gathered their things and scurried from the room.
“What’s wrong with them?” Lily asked.
“I believe they misunderstood.” He wondered if they would summon security. “Lily, an assassin who’s as tall or taller than his target would have used a different strike, coming down from about here . . .” He used Nettie to demonstrate. “He’d drive into the heart from above in an attempt to sever the artery as well as pierce the heart. It’s a quick kill.”
“Hmm.” Lily tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Nettie, you’re five-eight or -nine?”
“Five-nine in my stocking feet.”
“So you’re five inches under Rule, who’s two inches taller than Cullen.” Lily nodded. “A six-inch difference between attacker and target would make the perp five-seven. I’m guessing the difference was a bit more than that.”
“I may not have indicated the angle perfectly,” Nettie cautioned.
“Still, we’ve got a range. Call it five-two to five-eight. That helps. That fits. When will Cullen be awake?”
“Soon, probably, though I won’t leave him awake long. You want to talk to him.”
“If I can. It’s important. I need to touch him, too.”
Nettie’s smile was wry. “Now you’re asking permission? Oh, never mind. I’ll get over it. Before I can sleep, I need to check on him again. I’ll do that now—assuming Cynna lets me in the room—and call you once I see how he’s doing.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Rule spoke. “Should I be there when he wakes?”
“It would be easier on me if you were. I’ll call.” With that, Nettie left.
They were alone in the room. Questions pushed at him, but before he could settle on one Lily voiced her own. “Why did Nettie want you there when Cullen wakes up?”
“He may be agitated. She can calm him, but she’s drained. I’m his Lu Nuncio. Even if he’s confused, if I tell him he’s not in danger and to be still, he’ll accept that. Lily, I don’t understand how you’re handling security. I assume my father cleared Jason of any complicity, but there must be others who’ve been cleared as well who could act as guards.”
Lily looked at him strangely. “Neither Jason nor any of the others would be able to tell if someone isn’t what he or she appears to be.”
“Scent,” he said impatiently. “Regardless of how he’s disguised his appearance, a lupus can’t change his scent.”
“Two problems with that. First, you’re assuming the perp is a lupus. Second—”
“It happened on Clanhome.” The pain and offense of that nearly closed Rule’s throat. “It happened there, surrounded by Nokolai. No human could have gone unnoticed. No human would have tried.”
“Ah, Rule.” She ran her hands down his arms to his hands, clasping them. “You think it was one of yours. One of Nokolai. When I arrived, you were afraid I’d tell you I’d arrested one of your clan.”
“It wasn’t arrest I feared.”
“If you thought I’d let your father commit murder—”
“Lily.” He squeezed her hands. “Isen can pull any of the clan into Change, if he wishes.” And killing a lupus who was in wolf-form wasn’t murder in the eyes of the law.
“Is that why you left? Why you didn’t argue,” she corrected herself, “when I told you to go? You expected your father to find the perp, make him Change, then kill him.”
“It’s unlikely he would do it himself—but no, that isn’t exactly the reason. I left so I wouldn’t kill him.” Not without his father’s orders, at least, and he hadn’t been sure he could wait on another’s word. Not even his Rho’s.
“I did consider the possibility the perp was Nokolai, but it’s unlikely.”
“If you’re thinking about what Nettie calls an intrusion, that makes it less likely. But not impossible. Someone could have acquired a spelled blade.”
She nodded. “Benedict, for example. If anyone from Nokolai other than Cullen would know how to get something like that, he would. But he wouldn’t be able to magically alter his appearance. He isn’t between five-two and five-eight. Besides, he wouldn’t act without your father’s approval, and Isen is royally pissed.”
“Which lets Benedict off the hook. But there are short Nokolai.”
“Who use magic? I suppose it’s possible Cullen isn’t the only one, but how likely is it you wouldn’t know about him? Besides, I think I saw the perp.”
He went still.
“I saw an Asian man at the party who no one else seems to have seen. That makes me think he had some kind of magic deal going to confuse his appearance—which, of course, didn’t work on me. Somehow I don’t think there were two people at Clanhome who didn’t belong but were magically disguised, so the Asian guy’s probably the perp.”
“You think he magically disguised himself as me?”
“Not exactly. Two witnesses saw you strike Cullen, but the rest saw someone else—several someone elses—except for one person who swears Cullen fell down all on his own. The perp seems to be able to baffle the senses, and I do mean senses, plural. Most of my wits are lupi. They didn’t just see different attackers. They each smelled someone different.”
That was emphatically not a lupus ability. It wasn’t a known ability of anyone or anything else, either. “You must have checked for magic in the area.”
“Found plenty, but it was all lupus magic except for a smidge that was probably from Cullen. This may mean we’ve got a human perp with a Gift we’ve never seen before, some kind of illusion Gift. Or it may mean we’ve got another Cullen. That’s where my money’s going at the moment, because it supplies motive.”
“What do you mean, another Cullen?”