Blood Challenge

EIGHT

“SO what’s Leidolf?” Anna Sjorensen asked as they approached the exit.

The reporters had mobbed them for about ten seconds. Rule was clearly willing to give them sound bites, and Lily clearly wasn’t. Print reporters might have stuck to her anyway, but the TV folks needed good visuals and they needed them fast.

“A lupus clan. Rule’s their new Rho. He’ll be telling the piranhas of the press about that.” Lily refused to worry on that score. Rule had decided he would have to out Leidolf to the press. How else could he explain his presence? He’d warned Alex, who was spreading the word to as many of the clan as he could reach quickly.

There would be repercussions. Some in Leidolf were bitterly opposed to their clan’s going public. Even those who were okay with it were likely to be unhappy. This wasn’t exactly an ideal way to make the big reveal. People were going to associate Leidolf with a crazy killer, and even someone as good at spin as Rule would have trouble separating—

“He’s what?” Sjorensen said.

Lily dragged her mind away from what she was not worrying about. “Their Rho. The leader of the clan.”

“I thought his father was the … oh, no. You mean his father—”

“No, no. Isen’s fine and is still the Nokolai Rho. Leidolf is a different clan.” She glanced at Sjorensen. “You know that lupi are divided into clans, right?”

“Of course.” She was chilly, affronted. “They’re like tribes.”

“Close enough. The Navajo aren’t the same as the Apache or the Cherokee, and they don’t share a chief. Lupi clans differ, too, and each has its own Rho.”

“Does that mean Mr. Turner changed clans?”

The prim phrasing made Lily smile. “No, he’s both Nokolai and Leidolf. It’s complicated.” Beyond the glass lay a lot of wet cement, wet cars, and wet air. Lily was ready, though. She’d spent enough time on the dawn side of the continent to know that water fell from the sky here a lot.

The doors opened automatically, bathing them in warm, damp air and exhaust fumes. The traffic lanes they needed to cross were roofed by a wide overpass of some sort, but Lily went ahead and dug her umbrella out of her purse.

Sjorensen raised one eyebrow. “Prepared for anything, aren’t you?”

Lily was getting tired of all the attitude. “If I’d wanted to be prepared for anything, I’d have brought something more than my SIG. It takes a lot more firepower to put down a demon. An AK-47, at a minimum.”

“But you’re not—we aren’t—this case isn’t connected to demons.”

“Not as far as we know,” Lily agreed, “which is why I only brought a 9mm.” Maybe that was a mistake. Demons didn’t call ahead to see if it was a good time. The last time she fought one, Rule had been sliced by poisoned claws and a young man had bled out on the pavement.

But … no. She shook her head at herself. Barring another power wind to help one cross, demons could only arrive if summoned, and true summonings were thank-God rare. “My SIG should be enough for this trip. What do you carry?”

Sjorensen stepped out into the traffic lanes. “A 9mm Baby Eagle. I like the grip, and it’s under two pounds.”

“It’s a subcompact, right? How many rounds?”

“Ten. And it may be small, but it’s got stopping power.”

It probably lacked accuracy, though. The barrel on a subcompact was short. “I’m happy with my SIG, but your Baby Eagle sounds like a good clutch piece. I’ve got a little .22 for that, but it lacks punch.”

“If you’re here long enough, I’d be glad to let you try it at the range.” A tentative smile. “Not that many weapons fit my hand. I’m guessing you have the same problem?”

“Too true. And shoulder holsters—it’s hard to find one that fits both me and my weapon. I gave up and had one custom-made.”

As they left the protection of the overpass, rain fell in a weepy, genteel sort of shower that made Lily feel as if she should offer the sky a handkerchief. She opened her umbrella without eliciting any snide comments. Gun talk carried them all the way to Sjorensen’s car, a white sedan that looked a whole lot like the one Lily drove.

The woman was pleasant enough now. Maybe she’d been nervous earlier. She must be pretty brand-spanking new, after all. Probably not long out of Quantico.

Lily decided to try some straight female bonding. “Couldn’t help noticing your shoes,” she said as she buckled up. “They’re gorgeous. I hope all the wet didn’t hurt them.”

“Thanks.” She flashed Lily a second smile and started the car. “They were a major indulgence, so I keep them treated with water repellent.”

“They’re worth the effort. You couldn’t run in them, though.”

Sjorensen grimaced as she backed out of the space. “I’m not likely to need to chase down a perp, not with what they’ve got me doing. I made the mistake of minoring in accounting, so—” The trill came from her purse, not Lily’s. “Um. That’s this guy I’m seeing. I left him a message canceling our date. Would you mind if I take it?”

And that, Lily thought, accounted for the rest of the young woman’s initial attitude. Canceling a date to play chauffeur could spoil anyone’s day. “No problem.”

Lily took her notebook out of her purse and began glancing through her notes while Sjorensen spoke in a low voice on her phone, steering with one hand as she eased into the line of cars exiting the parking area.

Cobb had been at a postgame party, a cookout, with the game being college football. There’d been nearly a hundred people present. The police report she’d read was skimpy, but it included preliminary statements from a few witnesses. Seems there’d been an argument about one of the plays, or maybe about the coach. Witnesses said it was the usual sort of armchair quarterbacking, with opinions flying, but no fists—until Cobb suddenly exploded. Two of the witnesses used the same phrase to describe it: “He just blew up.”

Rule was convinced Cobb couldn’t have been in the fury. Lily had to admit it was hard to see why a man who’d managed to keep his control for seventy-odd years turned homicidal when someone disagreed with his postgame analysis. But if not the fury, then what?

Sjorensen put her phone up and apologized again for the personal intrusion.

“It can be a real stretch, fitting in a personal life around the job,” Lily said agreeably. It occurred to her that she and Sjorensen were alone. She’d probably better bring up what she’d learned when they shook hands. Might not get another chance. “I need to ask you something. Have you had training for your Gift?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve got a minor patterning Gift. Have you had training?’

Sjorensen turned icicle. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing. I’m not Gifted.”

“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that. Patterning is a rare Gift, so you might not have heard of it.”

“I haven’t.”

“And it doesn’t always manifest in an obvious way. Do you sometimes have runs of extremely good luck? Or extremely bad? Bizarre coincidences?”

“I don’t—” Her breath hitched, quick and telling. “I don’t believe you came to Nashville to discuss my luck, or lack of it.”

“No, but you don’t know anything about the case, so we might as well get this covered. Patterning can be a dangerous Gift if you don’t learn how to use it—and how to avoid tapping into it. Otherwise, a bad mood can turn into anything from a flat tire to a five-car pileup.” The young woman’s face was a mix of confusion and suspicion. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I usually don’t, but patterning’s potentially a—”

“I was tested,” Sjorensen blurted out. “Before I left Quantico, I was tested. I know you’re a sensitive, but you’re wrong about me.”

Lily’s eyebrows rose. Testing for Gifts was not standard practice at Quantico. It probably should be, but there weren’t enough qualified testers. “You know why you were picked to be tested?”

She shrugged. “They never told me. They don’t test everyone, so I thought maybe … but they didn’t find anything. No magic at all.”

“That was before the Turning.”

“Well—yeah. It was just before I graduated, so that would be about six months before the Turning hit.”

“You do know that some people had a Gift wake up then, right? The theory is that they had a nascent or potential Gift, but until then lacked the magic to kick-start it. The power storms changed that.”

“I thought … I thought that was urban legend. They—this show I watched—they debunked it. And I haven’t been starting fires or anything else weird.” She frowned. “Everyone gets flat tires sometimes.”

“I don’t know what show you watched, but ‘they’ were wrong. As for doing anything weird …” Lily tipped her head, considering the way Sjorensen had been singled out for testing. “Did you ever consider joining the Unit?”

Big blue eyes blinked several times. “I did. I do,” she corrected herself firmly. “I know there are a few in the Unit who aren’t Gifted, so it’s possible. Though now you say I am Gifted, so I …” Confusion overtook her.

“Uh-huh. And you just happened to be assigned to babysit someone who could tell you that yes, you do have a Gift. Someone who works in the Unit. You don’t call that weird?”

Sjorensen’s jaw dropped. Alarm widened her eyes. “But I got the assignment because Matt came down with a stomach bug. He was supposed to pick you up, not me, but he … are you saying I made him get sick?”

“In a roundabout way, yes, that’s likely.” Lily was brisk. Sjorensen had to understand the possible consequences of her Gift. “As I understand it, there had to be a chance he’d get sick anyway. You’re not very powerful, so there was probably a good chance of it. Your Gift bumped it up from ‘a good chance’ to actually happening. That’s why you have to be trained. I’ll call Ruben.”

“What? What? You mean Ruben Brooks? You’re going to call him about me?”

“He’ll want to know.” The glow on the young woman’s face made Lily realize she’d raised hopes. “This isn’t a recruitment or anything. I can’t recommend you—I don’t know you. But you need that Gift trained.”

Sjorensen nodded briskly. She wasn’t smiling—but she was still glowing, dammit. Better follow through. Lily dug out her phone and called her boss. She used the office number, not his personal line. He’d probably gone home by now, but she could leave a message …

“Ida Rheinhart,” a familiar, polished-steel voice said.

“Ida, this is Lily Yu. I—”

“Lily. You were on my list to call. I have some unfortunate news. Ruben had a heart attack approximately two hours ago. He’s in intensive care.”