by Eileen Wilks
“Leave that to me,” Rule said, taking out his phone. “Chris is fairly tech savvy. I’m sure he can follow your instructions.”
“But how—”
“He’ll enter your house secretly through one of the windows and, under your direction, shut off your recordings and the timers on the lights. He’ll leave out the back where it’s dark so any watchers don’t see his face. Then he’ll vanish.” He set the timer on his phone, then tapped the screen again, calling Chris.
“You can vanish?” Jasper said, befuddled.
“Lupi don’t disappear,” Lily said. “It just seems like it. They’re good at concealment. Tell me what Friar said.”
Jasper did that while Rule gave Chris his instructions. Rule listened to see if Jasper altered anything or left it out—he didn’t, until he added that Hammond Middle School was close to the hotel, much closer than his house, so he had a few minutes. Not many, but a few. Rule disconnected and signaled to Scott: Bring Cullen here. Scott grimaced, no doubt anticipating more complaint. But Cullen wouldn’t bitch about this. He never did when the emergency was real.
“He didn’t tell me to bring the prototype,” Jasper was saying to Lily. “Does that mean he’s got it?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe…tell me something. If you still had the prototype, would you have brought it to this meeting if Friar told you to?”
“No. Not like this, with no guarantees. Too easy to kill me and Adam both and take the damn thing.”
“He probably knows that.”
Jasper scrubbed his face. “He does. Of course he does. I’ve been clear about that. I wish to hell I’d quit panicking. It plays hell with thinking. So the next question is, how do I leave here without being seen? There’s no time to leave the way I came in, so I’ll have to exit as someone else.”
“If you’re in the center of my men when I leave,” Rule said, “you won’t be clearly visible.”
“I need to get there ahead of you, and you’re supposed to leave your men here.”
“Friar knows I won’t do that. He wants something to hold over you—you didn’t do the impossible, so he won’t honor his end of the deal. Which he has no intention of doing anyway, but he wants you to keep thinking he will if you jump through his hoops just right.”
“Right. Right. That sounds like him. I still need to leave before you do.” He looked at Lily. “Do you have some makeup I could use?”
“Makeup? Uh—sorry, but I don’t think any amount of makeup will make you look like a woman. And I don’t have anything that would fit you.”
“No, I won’t cross-dress. But another shirt, yes, the more expensive the better, given where you’re staying. Not black. Black points up the resemblance between me and Rule. And mascara, shadow, lipstick, liner—I don’t suppose you have any glitter? No? What about cotton balls?”
“LILY was right,” Rule said from the doorway to the bathroom. “You don’t look like a woman. You do look different, but not like a woman.”
“Different but charming, yes?” Jasper met his eyes in the mirror and blew him a mocking kiss. “You don’t approve.”
“It’s disconcerting, like looking in the mirror and seeing someone else there. Was Chris able to shut down your recordings?”
“I think so. He seemed to follow instructions well.” Jasper’s voice was clear in spite of the scraps of washcloth he’d stuffed in his cheeks in lieu of cotton balls to change their contour. In six minutes he’d transformed himself—removed his shirt, gelled his hair into spikes, and applied liner, mascara, and shadow with a lavish hand. He was now brushing on blush. He met Rule’s eyes in the mirror again. “It’s my SFGS disguise.”
“Will this do?” Lily said, pushing past Rule and holding out a white cashmere scarf he’d given her recently.
“Perfect, if I had a shirt to—ah, you’ve got something.”
She handed him the silk shirt that had been draped over her arm. “Todd donated it to the cause.”
Todd liked color. The shirt was lime green with a paisley pattern picked out in royal blue. It was slightly too small, but Jasper dealt with it efficiently, rolling up the sleeves and leaving it unbuttoned. He draped the scarf around his neck, twitching it until it fell to his satisfaction.
“SFGS?”
“Stereotypical Flaming Gay Slut.” He put down the blush brush, picked up the lip gloss Lily had contributed, and his voice changed, turning light and merry. “Works a treat, sweetie. Everyone notices me. No one sees me. Ask for a description later and you’ll hear about the shirt, the pants, the makeup. Hotel staff do pay some attention to prostitutes their customers bring here in case they cause trouble—either the prostitutes or their customers. But they won’t give much more of a description than the man I annoy by my mere presence in the elevator. They just won’t sputter as much.”
“You’ve used this disguise before,” Lily said.
“La, dear, of course! This isn’t the first time I’ve needed to leave a place openly, yet without being properly seen.” He gave her a roguish wink, then dropped back into his own voice. He grabbed a washcloth and the tube of facial cleanser Lily used every night. He’d need that to get out of character once he left the hotel. “Time to go. I’ll need to head up a flight or two before getting in the elevator, just be sure I’m not connected with this floor.”
Rule nodded and moved out of the doorway. “You’ll see Barnaby in the stairwell—tall, dark skin, plain white shirt. He’s expecting you.”
“You have people everywhere?”
“We keep track of entrances and exits. You don’t need to worry about surveillance on this floor. The hotel’s hallway cams are disabled, and we’ve checked thoroughly for others. There’s a hotel cam in the stairwell, but Barnaby will have it knocked out by the time you get there. He’ll brief you on how to avoid the hallway cam on the floor above this one.”
Jasper’s eyebrows climbed. “You’re thorough. If—ah. Thank you. Much better than a shopping bag.”
Cullen had met them in the bedroom and handed Jasper the shoulder bag he used to carry some of his spellcasting supplies. “I put one of Rule’s shirts in it.”
“Excellent.”
Rule glanced at his watch as they reached the sitting room. “You have nine minutes to call me. Will he know when you do?”
“Yes. He can’t listen in, but he’s installed something on my phone that tracks what numbers I call and when.”
“And where?” Lily said, suddenly worried.
“The GPS on my phone has never worked right. That’s intentional, but Friar doesn’t know it. Do you know what you’re going to do? Do you have a plan?”
“We have various plans,” Rule said, as they reached the entry, “depending on what we find when we get there. Jasper.”
Jasper reached for the door. “Yes?”
Rule didn’t know what he needed to say, but his throat was suddenly tight. He settled for “Be careful.”
Something flickered in Jasper’s dark eyes, but he answered in character. “Always. Ta, love.” And he left.
Rule shut the door behind him, turned, and said, “All right. Scott, you’ve located Hammond Middle School?”
Scott nodded.
“Take Joe and get in place. Cullen, your vest.”
“In a minute.” Cullen was handing out necklaces. That’s what they looked like, anyway. They were charms made by the previous Nokolai Rhej to protect against a Chimei, a foe far more powerful and adept at mind-magic than anything they were likely to encounter tonight. The charms worked…when hung on Nokolai necks. The problem was that they were tied to the clan’s mantle. Rule carried enough of that to activate them, but there was no way of knowing if they’d protect a Leidolf clansman who wore one.
Tonight they might find out.
“Why those charms?” Lily asked. “Friar’s the only one with big magical mojo, and his deal is patterning and listening, not mind-magic. And he won’t be there. He’s close. He has to be, to direct things, but he
won’t risk being present tonight.”
Rule nodded. “So I thought, too. You haven’t called your Bureau compatriots.”
“Because Adam won’t be there, either. This is a trap, pure and simple, and I don’t think having a lot of unGifted agents around will help. Why those charms?”
“We’re not just using these,” Cullen said, shrugging into the bulletproof vest Scott had located for him. “I already activated the sleep charms.”
“But other than the odd side effect of the prototype, we haven’t seen any evidence of mind-magic.”
“No,” Rule said, “but these are in case someone other than Friar is present. Earlier I asked Benedict to see if he could find out if the sidhe delegation’s claim of indisposition was genuine. After some discussion, he and Arjenie decided she was best suited to the job. She’s passed unnoticed by a sidhe lord, after all. Other sidhe shouldn’t be a problem.” Which Arjenie had no doubt pointed out to Benedict more than once before he agreed. “The delegation is sharing a single large suite with several bedrooms. She was able to enter it without much difficulty, and she learned that some of them are missing. One of the elves, the halfling, and all of the humans. It’s possible they’re here.”
“How?” Mike said. “I guess they could take a plane the same as anyone else, but they’d be spotted immediately.”
Cullen rolled his eyes. “You’ve heard of illusion? Since elves are the only ones who can do that—”
“Never mind. I get it.”
“—they can look as human as they want. At least the elf can. We have no idea what the halfling’s capable of. And since illusion is a form of mind-magic—”
“I get it,” Mike repeated loudly.
“—you’ll wear that charm and hope it works.”
Lily was looking at Rule with narrowed eyes. “And why am I just now hearing about this?”
She was angry. But why? “Benedict called while Jasper was here. I didn’t feel free to speak about Arjenie’s Gift in front of him.”
“No—why am I just now hearing that you asked Benedict to investigate the sidhe’s apparent indisposition?”
He matched her frown with his own. “It’s been a busy day. I forgot to tell you.”
“I think that mantle helped you forget. It defaults to secrecy even worse than—damn.” Her phone had chimed. “Later,” she muttered as she took it out. “We are going to talk about this, but later. Hello?”
“Scott,” Rule said curtly, and gave a jerk of his head to tell him to get moving. Scott gestured to Joe, and the two headed out.
Why was Lily so hung up on the idea that the Leidolf mantle was changing him? He’d told her many times it didn’t work that way, but she seemed to think she knew more about it than he did. “Cullen?” he said. “You’re comfortable with your role?”
“More comfortable with that than with this damn vest. It weighs a ton.”
“Bear up beneath your burden,” Rule said dryly. “Everyone, make sure your phones are on silent.” The vibration was as audible as a ringtone to lupi ears, but humans wouldn’t hear it unless they were very close.
He checked his watch. Scott and Joe would leave through a hidden exit the hotel’s security chief had shown Scott. It was possible Friar knew about that, but unlikely enough that Rule would take that chance in order to have them in place ahead of time. The rest of them would leave openly as soon as Jasper called…which he should be doing in three and a half minutes.
Rule wanted to pace. He had a bad feeling about tonight, and not just because of the mate bond’s behavior. Friar had had too much time to set things up, and they’d had too little time and too little information to plan effective counters. They’d simply have to outthink him on the ground…but Rule kept thinking of all the times the Great Bitch had targeted Lily. She wanted Lily badly. Rule was sure that hadn’t changed, even if sometimes she preferred to take Lily alive and others seemed willing to settle for her death. If only there was some way to leave his nadia out of…
“…but the timing sucks,” Lily was saying. “Can you get to him and…No, you’re right, it’s not worth the risk. Damn. Well, stay with him and see if he does board. It’s always possible the booking is a red herring.”
“That’s Tony?” Rule said, suddenly paying attention.
“Yeah. He found Hugo.”
THIRTY-ONE
“I’M not easy about this,” Lily said as she shrugged into her jacket.
Rule cocked one eyebrow at her. “Wanting to stay close to protect me?”
“No—yes, I guess I am. But if that elf’s around and pulling mind-magic crap, I’m the only one guaranteed not to be affected.”
“The charms will protect Cullen and me and possibly the others.”
“Yes, but—”
“You can change your mind. I’m not sure why you think Hugo is so important, not now that we’ve got Jasper’s input. But if you do—”
“I don’t know why, either. It’s a hunch.” Clearly frustrated, she grabbed his face in her hands, pulled it to hers, and gave him a quick kiss. She kept her hands on his face to say fiercely, “There’s a reason Friar set this up at a middle school.”
Yes. Friar didn’t care if children were harmed. They did. “It’s approaching midnight. There won’t be any children at the school.”
“Don’t assume.” With that last instruction, she turned and left.
Mike and Todd were already in the hall. They’d go with her, so Rule was reasonably satisfied with her protection. Jeffrey and Patrick would stay here—Patrick with the two Laban guarding Beth, Jeffrey to watch the suite. Jeffrey wasn’t happy about that, but he was the youngest, barely trained and still unblooded. The rest of the men would go with Rule and Cullen.
“Kudos,” Cullen said. “That was as masterful a bit of manipulation as any I’ve seen your father pull off. I especially liked the part where you encouraged her to reconsider.”
Rule’s mouth crooked up. If anyone actually noticed his father manipulating others, Isen was having an off day. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Keep telling yourself that if you like, but don’t try telling it to Lily once she realizes what you did.”
True. “I hope Hugo turns out to be as important as she thinks. She’ll forgive me faster.”
Somehow Tony had tracked Hugo to a bar in the port area. The window for getting their hands on him was closing fast, though—he’d booked passage on a ship that left port in just over an hour. Lily had briefly considered sending Bureau people to pick Hugo up, but that might be problematic, given that he had some kind of Gift. And due to intuition or sheer stubbornness, she was determined to get hold of him.
It made sense to split up. Rule was pleased by how logically it all worked out…and gave him what he wanted. What most of him wanted, anyway. His wolf didn’t like it. The wolf wanted Lily close by, and never mind that close by meant heading into extreme danger. As far as the wolf was concerned, they should always act as a team, and Lily was always safer if they did.
But the man was in charge this time, and the man was relieved. About Lily, anyway. Jasper hadn’t called, and the alarm he’d set would go off in—
His phone vibrated. It was Jasper. Rule listened, responded briefly, and disconnected. “Let’s go.”
THE Joyce K. Hammond Middle School was one of those staunch redbrick buildings erected soon after the great earthquake. Three stories rose in impeccable symmetry above the street, their multipaned windows designed to admit both light and breezes. The school’s gymnasium was more recent, though they’d done a good job of blending it visually with the existing structure. On the inside, that gym looked like thousands of others—a glossy wooden floor, bleachers, basketball hoops.
Jasper sat on a folding metal chair in the middle of that shiny floor with his hands tied behind his back. He’d come here knowing it was a trap. He’d expected to see Friar holding a gun at Adam’s head to force Jasper to obey, and he’d been ready to do just that. Ready
to trust—however desperately—that his newly found brother would somehow save them both.
Adam wasn’t here. Five young girls were.
The girls hadn’t been given chairs. They sat motionless on the floor a few feet from him. Two movie-extra thugs complete with black ski masks held automatic weapons on them. The thugs were both white. The girls they aimed at were more varied—one black, two white, two Hispanic. An admirably diverse assortment of hostages, Friar had pointed out, save for the uniformity of gender. They were dressed alike, too, or mostly so. Their tops varied, but they all wore jeans and athletic shoes and duct tape on their wrists and mouths. Above the duct tape their eyes were glassy.
The girls were alike in one more way. They glowed.
Not very much, and only when Jasper concentrated hard on using that kind of seeing. Robert Friar was a lot brighter, bright enough that Jasper didn’t have to work much to see the magic that wrapped him. Spells are always dimmer than the one who casts them.
This spell supposedly lodged them in the immediate moment. They had less short-term memory at the moment than an ant, Friar had told him cheerfully. They wouldn’t remember a thing about tonight. Death would provide the same result, he’d added, but they were all trying to avoid that particular outcome, weren’t they? For different reasons, but that was the point. The spell would encourage Jasper and his brother and his brother’s lovely fiancée to have confidence in Friar’s word. Once Friar had what he wanted, he promised that the girls would be set free, unharmed. The spell would wear off, and they wouldn’t remember anything, so turning them loose was easier than killing them. No bodies to dispose of, no police involvement.
Jasper didn’t take anything Friar said at face value, but the spell did keep them calm—almost comatose, in fact, but surely that was better than terrified. Maybe the rest of what Friar said about it was true, too. Jasper had to act as if it was. He had to act as if the girls could be saved. Somehow.
Friar stood beside Jasper’s chair. He was a middle-size, middle-aged man, slim and healthy, so deeply tanned he looked Hispanic, though he wasn’t. He was a good-looking man who had aged well, even to the silver streaks in his dark hair. His clothes—pressed khakis, loafers, a royal blue cotton shirt—were expensive but not ostentatious. He wore a Rolex on one wrist and an earbud in one ear. He would blend in most places, dressed like that.