by Eileen Wilks
A small, dark place inside Rule opened up, releasing a heaviness he didn’t name. That lump of darkness met air, turned to mist, and evaporated. A smile spread over his face. The hand he held wore his ring. He ran his thumb over it. “And I have you.”
“You’re sounding pretty possessive there.”
And she sounded pretty amused. He didn’t care.
Beck chose that interesting moment to join them. He glanced at their joined hands, then spoke to Lily as if Rule wasn’t there. “I’ve got an APB out for Javier. I can’t figure this out. It isn’t his style, setting us up that way.”
“I imagine he got one of those ‘can’t refuse’ type of offers.” She glanced at Rule, including him. “Just before I came here I got a tip from someone who knows what he’s talking about. Our perp’s taken over two small gangs and wants more. According to my source, he wants to run all criminal operations in San Diego. I’m betting these clowns are from one of the gangs he’s already co-opted.”
“I don’t know, Lily,” Beck said. “These particular scum are Soldados. They’re a small gang, yeah, but they’re vicious, ambitious, and territorial, and their leader is Cruz Montoya. He wouldn’t hand control over to some newcomer.”
“If he refused, he’s probably dead. We’re not dealing with the usual sort of perps, Cody. If . . . Looks like the detective’s here. I need to talk to—no, hell, I’d better get that.” She dug out her phone.
Rule recognized the ringtone. “Wouldn’t Ruben still be in the air?” He seemed to remember that Brooks’s flight was to land around ten.
She nodded, touching the answer link. “Lily Yu here.”
Rule heard Brooks’s voice clearly. “Lily, your family is in grave and immediate danger. That’s all I know, but I am completely sure of it.”
THIRTY-FOUR
LILY commandeered a patrol car. Beck’s vehicle was half a mile’s hike away, Rule’s was blocked by two patrol cars and an ambulance, and she wasn’t waiting.
She might not have gotten away with that if the detective who’d pulled up just as Ruben called had been someone other than T.J. He told the patrol officer to quit whining and give her the damned keys.
Beck insisted on going along. It made for a crowded front seat—but since the backseat was essentially a small, mobile prison, neither Rule nor Beck was eager to ride there.
Lily hits the lights, the siren, and the accelerator. Rule tried calling everyone he had a number for—Julia and Edward Yu, Susan, Beth. Nothing got through.
Before they were halfway there, the city went crazy.
The first call on the police radio concerned Godzilla. It was quickly followed by shots fired; a brawl at Walmart; giant ants; more shots fired; people running naked and screaming along a busy street . . . all in the general vicinity of Edward and Julia Yu’s home. When the first fire bloomed, opening its hungry orange petals on the roof of a home a block from their destination, they were still two miles away, but they saw the sudden glow.
Lily’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as she took the exit ramp at high speed. “Grandmother knew this would happen. She knew.”
“You’re right. She was expecting this, so she’s prepared.” Rule tensed and drew hard on the mantles. “Shit.”
“Hell and damnation!” Beck leaned across Rule, grabbing for the wheel. Rule shoved him back.
“What is it?” Lily demanded.
“I just saw a demon like the one who ripped me open in Dis. I don’t know what the deputy saw.”
“People.” Beck swallowed. “Dead people. Bodies. The car’s bumping over them. I feel it. Can’t you—”
“No bodies,” Lily said grimly, “yet.” She swerved violently, narrowly missing another car as a semi came barreling at them, straight down the middle of the road.
“You’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Lily braked for a turn onto a less busy, more residential street, then hit the gas again. “Close your eyes if you can’t deal. Rule? Is the, uh, technique Sam mentioned doing you any good?”
This street wasn’t as congested, but—“It was, but now I’m seeing people.”
Lily hit the brakes. “Those are for real.”
At least twenty people raced down the middle of the street straight at them. Screaming. The car fishtailed as Lily fought it. She got it stopped—but three people ran right into the stopped car. It wasn’t the darkness—their vehicle was lit brightly by headlights and its strobing police light. They simply didn’t see anything except whatever they believed pursued them.
Two got up and started running again. The third didn’t.
“I’ll get her.” Cody threw the door open.
Lily’s face was pale. “The Chimei’s throwing out a ton of power. If it’s centered on my parents’ place, the effect is widespread. We’re still a couple miles from the house.”
“Apparently she’s got a ton of power.” Rule tried calling again. Nothing.
In front of the car, Cody scooped up a woman’s limp body. Two cars whizzed past, going the other way. “Knocked herself out,” he called. “Open the back and I’ll put her in.”
Lily hit a button. “Come on,” she muttered. “Hurry.”
Cody slid the woman inside, slammed the door, and climbed in. Before his door was closed Lily stomped on the gas. The police radio squawked about a fire somewhere—there was a lot of static—then announced a “10-190 in progress at the Walmart at—”
It went dead.
“Magic surge?” Rule said.
“Probably. And the brawl at that Walmart we passed is now a riot.”
Cody yelped.
“Whatever it is, don’t believe it,” Lily said.
“So you’re not really sprouting horns right now, huh?”
Rule watched as a dozen gang members standing in a well-lit apartment parking lot drew guns and shot at them as they barreled past. He heard the shots even over the wail of their siren—but the sound was off. Muffled and wrong. He kept his voice steady. “I’ll need to Change as soon as we stop.”
“Okay,” Lily said. “Why?”
“That matter I discussed with my father.” She’d know he meant the mantles. “The wolf will be better able to listen in that particular way than the man.”
“Is it helping any?”
“I still . . . see things. Perhaps not as many as Beck is seeing. But my other senses aren’t as affected by the illusions.” They slowed for the next turn, this time onto a purely residential road. A man standing in his front yard leveled a rifle at them as they approached. “Is that man—” But he heard the gun go off.
“Shit.” Lily swerved. “Hit the rear of the car, I think. Oh, Christ.” She swerved again—this time to avoid hitting two bodies lying, bloody and still, in the street. At least that’s what Rule saw in the headlights.
Two blocks later, fire erupted directly in front of them. She didn’t slow, even as the flames leaped up huge and hot. Cody yelled something profane.
He saw it, too? Or did he think they were plowing through a swamp or a crowd of innocent people? Rule listened for the roar and crackle of fire—and didn’t hear it. But every window was lit with orange flame. “I can’t see anything but fire,” he told Lily.
“Good thing I’m driving. We’re nearly there. Shit.” She skidded to a stop. “Can you see anything?”
“Just fire.”
“There is a fire, but it’s over a block away. I’m stopped because the street is blocked by a three-car pileup.” She undid her seat belt. “I’ll go the rest of the way on foot. We’re close.”
“I’ll get out on your side, so you can guide me, if needed.” He hoped like hell that after he Changed he wouldn’t see fire everywhere, but if he did, he’d need help.
“Rule, if you feel the fire as well as see it—”
“Either you lead me or I follow blindly.” He looked at flames. But he didn’t hear them.
“I hate to say ditto,” Cody said. “I really hate it. But ditto.”
&n
bsp; “All right. But if either of you feels fire as well as seeing it, get back in the damned car. And don’t attack anything unless I say so.” She opened her door. Rule could smell the fire, the smoky burned stink of it—but she’d said there was a real fire, hadn’t she? A block away.
Rule slid across. Drew hard on his mantle. And stepped out into flame.
He felt heat—but the heat of a hot day not yet cooled from the sun’s departure. Not the heat of burning. He wasn’t burning. He drew a breath and concentrated on the earth beneath his feet and listened.
Moonsong, sweet and cool and pure. Yes. It sang to him and to the mantles, and the mantles . . . Almost he heard them, too, echoing their own notes in that song. He pulled earth up through his feet, threw himself into the moonsong—and into the Change.
His body splashed apart in ripples of agony—and reformed, the pain gone as completely as if it had never been. His vision was lower down now, the colors flatter, the perspective subtly different. His hearing had sharpened, and the world was alive with scent.
And flames still licked the air, but they were gauzy, insubstantial. He saw through them, saw Lily frowning at him as she bent to pull her clutch piece from her ankle holster. He saw real fire, too—the one Lily had spoken of, behind them and a block to the west. Those flames crackled hungrily.
He gave her a nod—I’m well; I see you; I see truth now— and moved aside to let the deputy out. And saw that fake-fire coated the car like a virulent ghost. Just the car, for about three feet out.
Beck’s face was shiny with sweat as he hesitated by the open driver’s side door. The flames were real to him. Would he burn if he believed himself burning? Surely he couldn’t—
He shoved himself out—and started screaming.
Rule moved lightning-quick, grabbing the man’s shirt in his jaws and dragging him several feet, away from the ghost-flames. The screaming cut off. Beck lay on his back panting, eyes huge.
“Goddammit, Cody, you weren’t supposed to—are you all right?” Lily knelt beside him.
“Guess I’m alive.” He pushed up on one arm, shaky. “The fire’s all over the car, but it’s not here. God.” He held out a hand, turned it over. “I’m not crisped. It sure as hell felt like the skin was melting right off me.” He looked at Rule. “Thanks.”
“You’re both seeing fire,” Lily said flatly. “The same illusion. And it’s just on the car?” Rule nodded. “That’s not good. That’s focused on us, and it’s . . . shaped, intentional. It’s not just your fears being pulled from your head. She gave you fire on purpose.”
Rule growled and took a step forward.
“You’re right. Let’s go. Cody, can you—okay, guess you can,” she said as the deputy climbed to his feet. “Let’s move.”
Lily set off at a lope. Rule ran easily beside her—and the deputy kept up with both of them.
Despite Rule’s current form, the man remained very present. And thinking hard.
Cody Beck had real courage. Rule hadn’t expected the man to be a coward—Lily wouldn’t have cared about him if he were craven or stupid—but he hadn’t expected that degree of bravery.
Cody Beck was also about half crazy. His courage was real, but foolhardy. Had the ghost-fire extended well beyond the car, Rule might not have been able to get him out of it in time. He could have died, the injuries so real to his brain and senses that his heart stopped. Or he could have been thrown into shock, forcing them to deal with him instead of the threat to Lily’s family.
Rule-wolf snorted at all the words the man dragged through his head. Cody Beck was strong and admirable, yes. And flawed, but who was not? And he was not right for Lily . . . which was clear to the wolf without all that thinking.
Lily’s parents lived in a lovely middle-class section of the La Jolla area. There were streetlights on every corner, porch lights, and landscape lighting in many cases. Yards were small, but beautifully tended. Some were xeriscaped or grav eled; some stubbornly retained their grass lawns. There was a lot of stucco, of course, in a mix of colors and styles. It was a pricey neighborhood, but Edward and Julia Yu had bought their home many years ago, when there were still a few bargains to be found.
Tonight smoke and ash from the fire drifted over the yuccas and the palms, the pale driveways, and the red-tile roofs. And the dogs howled.
In the yards, they howled. In the houses, they howled. Little dogs, big dogs—every dog for blocks around was howling. Whatever fell magic the Chimei used, it spoke to dogs, too.
Rule could almost feel that magic pressing on him, and understood the animals’ need to howl. As he ran—an easy pace, much slower than his top speed—he leaned heavily into listening. He listened as he would for the moon’s song, but it was those separate notes he leaned into, the notes the mantles had echoed when he Changed. The notes that named them, perhaps. Could a snatch of moonsong be a name?
Yes—clearly, yes. Sam possessed his name, and what else would a dragon be named by but dragonsong?
He didn’t see monsters looming in the darkness. He saw a woman sitting in her driveway, deep scratches on both bare arms, rocking herself and sobbing. He saw another auto accident—two cars, their front ends smashed and permanently mated. No drivers or passengers, though he smelled blood. He heard Cody Beck’s harsh breathing and smelled his fear, but the man ran steadily. Rule wondered what he saw.
Then he saw smoke billowing from a second fire, dark enough to show against the smear of stars. It was farther away, but perhaps larger than the first fire. He didn’t hear the bustle and shouts of firefighters. He did hear sirens, but they weren’t close.
Where were all the people? Aside from that lone woman, he saw no one, heard no one, smelled no one. It was night. They should be home from work, busy with dinner and family. Were they cowering in their houses, frozen by fear? Killing one another? Running in packs down other streets, maddened by visions too terrible to face?
Then, as they passed one house, he heard screams inside. Several voices, not just one. Lily stopped. He shoved at her. Keep going. Our enemies aren’t here. To stop this, we have to stop our enemies.
Beck pulled his weapon from its holster. “I’m going in.”
She slapped his arm—the one with the gun. “Put it up. Put it up, or you’re going to shoot what you think is a rapist and it turns out to be a ten-year-old. You go in, what will they see when you try to save them? A monster come to eat them? And you won’t know if what you see is real, or which parts are real. How can you help if you don’t know?”
“Then, dammit, if you can tell—”
Lily didn’t answer. She just started running again. Faster.
Rule ran beside her. So, too, did Beck—with his weapon back in its holster.
They were nearly to the Yus’ street. That was it, less than a block away now. The Yus’ house would be to the left, the third house on the left. And at last he heard people. Voices talking—one was Madame Yu. She told someone, “Leave or die. Your choice.” And laughter. Ugly laughter.
Then a shot. Two shots, close together.
He glanced up at Lily, torn. He doubted she could have heard her grandmother from this far away, but the shot—that, she’d heard. She waved him ahead. “Go. Go. I’ll be right behind you. Go.”
Rule kicked into his top speed. In seconds, the other two were well behind. He rounded the corner.
There it was, the Yus’ home—a pale, pretty stucco split-level with a double-wide driveway that swallowed most of the front yard. In a flash, with the air streaming past, he took in the scene. Lights were on—inside and on the porch, plus muted solar lights lining the drive.
And in that driveway, a crowd of young men, maybe a dozen of them. Another gang? The wind brought him their scents—sweat and cigarettes, beer, weed. And gunpowder. He couldn’t see from this distance and in the dark how many had guns, but he smelled the gunpowder.
They weren’t firing, though. They were staring at the porch—where a vortex of shadow and color swirled.
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Madame Yu didn’t Change the way he did. It took her a bit longer.
Rule barreled into the nearest one from behind before the rest even saw him. He simply knocked that one flat and sprang onto the next, slashing an upraised arm with his teeth. He spun, ducking and going low, aiming for the hamstrings of one swinging a baseball bat at the spot where he’d been one or two slow seconds ago.
A shattering roar rent the air. A streak of orange, black, and white launched into the midst of the gang members. A Siberian tiger—about ten feet, nose to tip of tail, of snarling fury—was among them.
Now they screamed.
Madame Yu was not a dainty fighter. She slapped out with claws that could take down a black bear. Blood flew. Within seconds, the fight was over. Rule trembled with the need to pursue as those still able to move ran off, but the man restrained the wolf.
Madame Yu may have felt a similar frustration. She roared again.
A wolf knows better than to approach an angry tiger, however friendly and respectful they might be toward each other in their other forms. Rule yipped to get her attention, then pointed with his nose at the house, ears pricked. Her tail lashed. She nodded, going so far as to wave one huge paw, as if urging him to go in.
She’d left the front door ajar. He ran toward it. She didn’t, heading instead around toward the back of the house.
Good. Those in front could have been a diversion for others coming in the back way.
Inside, he followed his nose—and found an amazing sight. In the dining room—a small room, with only one window—the dining table was gone. Instead the floor held a pair of mattresses. On them lay Madame Yu’s family—son, daughter-in-law, two granddaughters, and grandson-in-law. Peacefully, deeply asleep, all of them. Susan was snoring slightly.
He stopped, staring. Then shook his head and wished this form could laugh. She’d drugged them, one and all. How she’d persuaded or tricked them into it he couldn’t guess, but she’d made sure the madness wouldn’t reach them.
After a second’s grinning appreciation, he went back into the tidy living room. Not so tidy now, with shards of glass littering the floor. At least one of the shots he’d heard had shattered the large picture window.