Blood Lines

NINETEEN

SOMEONE was messing with her foot. It hurt. She jerked it away.

"Hold still."

That was Cullen's voice. He sounded peevish. Someone— Cullen?—yanked her foot back onto the warm place it had been resting and wiped it with the stinging stuff again.

"Ow!" Cynna's eyes popped open.

"Don't be a sissy. It's not much of a cut."

She blinked as memory seeped back in. She was lying on her back in a bed—pretty decent bed, too. Soft. The ceiling was white, and somewhere that longhair music was still playing. So she was still in Victor Frey's house, and not too much time had passed.

What had happened after things went black? Was the demon… Check, fool.

She did a quick cast. Okay, good. She was badly drained, but she was sure the demon wasn't nearby. And Cullen was all right. What about Merilee and Frey and Timms and the lupus guards? Had they come through okay? She propped herself up on one elbow.

Hey. Her head didn't hurt.

She was in a small bedroom with faded wallpaper and maple furniture. Very tidy, like the rest of the house. Cullen sat on the bed with her right foot in his lap. His hair was mussed, and his shirt was ripped and bloody. "You're hurt."

"No, dummy, you are." He finished what he'd been doing with the washrag and picked up a tube of antibiotic ointment.

"I guess I stepped on something." She didn't remember cutting her foot, but in all the excitement she might not have noticed. A dozen questions jockeyed for position. She plucked the simplest and asked it. "What happened?"

"You pissed off a demon." His voice was funny. He squirted ointment on her foot and smeared it around. "Remember that part?"

"Yeah. She clobbered me."

"She cracked your skull." Now he looked up, and she knew why he'd sounded odd. She'd never heard him flat-out furious before. "Of all the lamebrained, stupid-ass stunts—"

"Did it work?"

He shoved her foot off his lap and sprang to his feet. "I'm not believing this. Two humans and three lupi go after a demon. Do the humans let the lupi deal with the hand-to-hand? No, since you lack the common sense of a dung beetle, you—"

"Two humans? Is Timms okay?"

The door opened. A handsome woman with broad hips and shoulders and hot-cocoa skin came in. "Banged up some, but he'll mend. They're loading him into the ambulance now. He wouldn't let me set his arm—said he wanted a real doctor." She looked at Cullen. "Quit yelling at my patient."

She was a patient? Cynna gave her head a shake. Nothing rattled. "I'm fine. What happened with Frey and Merilee and the demon? Anyone else hurt?"

The woman turned a solemn face on her. She looked somewhere over forty but still downwind of old age; beyond that, it was hard to guess. "The Rho's well enough to heal on his own, thanks to you. Merilee…" She sighed. "Ah don't know about her. Her body's not hurt aside from a couple bruises, and the baby's fine, praise the Lord. But the poor child's mind is a mess."

Possession could do that to you. "Then the demon's not in her anymore."

The full lips tightened. "Ah got rid of it."

"You did? Oh—excuse me. It would be nice if Mr. Gorgeous got over his snit long enough to introduce us, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm Cynna Weaver."

A laugh rolled up from the woman's comfortable middle. She glanced at Cullen, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, scowling at both of them. "Ah think maybe I like you, Cynna Weaver. I'm the Leidolf Rhej, and I'm a healer, which is why you ain't in that ambulance with the other one."

Cynna knew the clans' holy women didn't usually offer their names, so she didn't ask. "You're also an exorcist, I take it."

"Not till today, but the Lady don't put up with demons messing with her people. Good thing someone had the sense to send for me. Ah had a few minutes to call up the right memory for the job."

"That was you," Cynna said to Cullen. "You had Boss Guard send someone to get her, didn't you?"

He just kept scowling. He didn't like Rhejes, she knew. Or maybe grudge was a better word than dislike—a grudge connected to the time he'd spent clanless. Which he didn't talk about, so she didn't know what the connection was, but maybe that was what was making him act like a ten-year-old who'd had his TV privileges taken away.

"He did," the woman said, " since it didn't occur to my bone-head brother to fetch me. That was a right mess I walked into— you an' the other human sprawled out like the dead, my brother and that David tryin' to hold down Merilee. She was pretty lively, too."

"Timms couldn't get a dart in her?"

Cullen condescended to speak. "Oh, he darted her. The tran-quilizer didn't exactly make her tranquil, though, so he rushed her with the others. Idiot."

"The drug had some effect," the Rhej said judiciously. "Or else Alex and David couldn't've held her down at all. She did toss David off once—that's when she tried to rip open your Mr. Gor-geous's throat. Good thing she just had fingernails to work with, not claws."

Cynna's head swung toward Cullen. "That's your blood," she said accusingly.

"The cut's not deep. Be healed by tomorrow, which is more than you can say about your head."

He was wrong there. The Rhej must be one hell of a healer. "Did you use the charm? Did it work?"

Cullen shot her a withering look. "Of course it did."

"Still is," the Rhej said, her face creasing into trouble lines. "I

didn't know what to do for Merilee after I got rid of that demon. When she came around, she was… well, I had Cullen use his charm to keep her asleep for now. Couldn't do it myself—putting your head back together took everything I dared tap, but we owed you that." She gave a nod. "Victor'd be dead if you hadn't jumped that demon. He may be an ass, but he's our ass. We need him."

There was plain speaking. Maybe a Rhej didn't have to be as respectful of the Rho as the rest of the clan. Cynna swung her feet off the bed. "Maybe I can help Merilee. I—"

"Hey!" For a big woman, the Rhej moved fast. She grabbed Cynna's shoulders and held her down. "I'm good, but I'm not that good. You don't need to be bouncin' around yet."

"I'm fine."

Her eyes narrowed. She placed her big hands on either side of Cynna's head and hummed quietly as her eyes lost their focus. Her palms grew warm. Very warm. Cynna began to feel sleepy.

All at once she dropped her hands and frowned. "What have you done to yourself? Something's stopped up inside you—some kind of spell, an' the tangle it's made is full to burstin' with your magic."

"I don't… oh, shit." The pain-block spell. She closed her eyes and mentally traced the kilingo for the spell. Yep, way too much power going into it. How did that happen?

Figure that out later. She turned it off… and nearly toppled off the bed. "Owww… oh, man. That hurts."

Cullen's scowl was back. "A depressed skull fracture is supposed to hurt."

Depressed skull fracture. Cynna felt cold and dizzy thinking about it… or maybe just thinking did that. Her head was throbbing like a bad tooth.

"Now, don't let him scare you," the woman said. "Your head was a big job, but Ah fixed it. Lifted up that bit of broken skull, got rid of the fluid, knit up the torn whatchamacallit—that stuff right under the skull—drained the blood clot an' healed the bruisin' on the brain. Got the skull started knitting, too, enough to hold, but I couldn't do it all in one whack. Your head's gonna ache for a couple days. But what was stopping up the pain before?"

Blood clot? Torn whatchamacallit? Bruising on the brain? "Ah… this spell I've got blocks pain, but it shouldn't have… I had a trickle of power going into it before, see. Somehow it got turned up on high while I was unconscious."

"How?" Cullen demanded.

"No idea." She might care about that later. Right now… "Any reason I can't use the spell? Not on full power, but enough to take the edge off."

"Sugah, that spell had your body thinking it wasn't hurt at all. It had quit healing."

Sounded like the answer was no. Cynna grimaced.

"I'd like to learn that spell, though," the Rhej went on. "See if it can be tinkered with, made to work so's it don't block the healing."

"It only works on me." Cynna rested the uncracked side of her head in her hand. "I've tried to modify it so it could be used on others, but nothing works."

"I'd like to take a look at it," Cullen said in a neutral voice. "With your permission."

She looked at him out of pain-narrowed eyes. Sorcerers had a real edge when it came to altering a spell. He'd be able to see it, see exactly how it worked. "Later, maybe. I'm—"

"Well, well, well." Brady stood in the doorway, blue eyes bright with pleasure. "Fancy meeting you again, Seabourne. I like the way your blood looks. Pity there isn't more of it showing."

The Rhej turned to face him. Cynna couldn't read her expression—she had the woman's profile—but her body language said, watch out. "What are you doin' in the house, Brady? Alex didn't let you in."

"My father's hurt. I wanted to see him."

"You aren't supposed to be here till after the naming. You know that. An' your father ain't in this room."

"You sure? Maybe I should check." He moved into the room, graceful as a snake. "Could be under the bed. I'll have a peek."

The Rhej stepped in front of him. "Don't you try to play your games with me, Brady Gunning."

"Better call your brother." He raised his voice in a falsetto. "Help, Alex! Brady's picking on me!"

Brady wasn't here to needle Cullen, Cynna realized with a jolt. It was the Rhej he was after.

Cullen uncoiled himself from his snit, straightening to stand with his arms loose at his sides. "Now that's interesting. She can't smell your fear, Brady, but I can."

"Fear?" Brady laughed, but it didn't come out right. "You think I'm afraid of a female too old to breed?" He looked over at the Rhej. "More like the other way around, isn't it? At least it should be."

Cullen moved—not too fast to see this time, but fast enough. He put himself between the Rhej and Brady. "You still scared of fire?"

Brady snarled. "This is Leidolf business. Stay out."

Cynna had never seen Cullen's face wiped so clean of whimsy or mockery. "You threatened the Lady's Voice. You'll beg her forgiveness."

The Rhej started to say something, but Brady spoke right over her. "Beg? Of a femaleT' He made the word sound like something nasty that had gotten stuck in his teeth.

Cullen flicked his fingertips. Sparks danced in the air. "Beg or burn. Your choice."

"Hey!" Cynna said. "FBI agent here. I hate to point this out, but burning people's illegal."

"Brady." Alex, aka Boss Guard, filled the doorway like a quiet mountain.

Brady turned slowly. "Yeah?"

"You'll leave now. You won't come back in the house until the naming."

The two men locked gazes. Cynna held her breath. Brady wanted to attack. No, he wanted to kill. He vibrated with that need, probably stank of it to the other lupi. But some thread of sanity or self-preservation prevailed. His posture changed subtly as the challenge went out of him. He dropped his eyes and nodded once.

Cullen spoke. "He threatened your Rhej."

The big man exchanged a look with his sister. "If that's so—"

"I meant no threat." Brady smiled as if he hadn't been a breath away from killing a moment ago. "If my words seemed a threat, I didn't mean them so."

Her face was stony. She gave a small nod.

Cullen didn't like it. "That's not—"

"It's enough," the Rhej said firmly. "I require no more… at this time." She gave Brady a look that ought to have had him tucking his tail between his legs.

Instead he smirked, offered a mocking bow, and walked up to the mountain, eyebrow cocked. Alex looked to his right and gave a small nod to someone out of sight in the hall, then stepped aside. Brady—thank God—left.

A large gray wolf trotted after him. An escort, Cynna guessed, to make sure he did leave.

Alex watched him go, then turned to the Rhej. "Sister…"

"I know." She rubbed her temple, looking about ten years older than she had at first. "But this is a bad time for it. They'd say I was interfering in the naming."

Cullen looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't let him get away with that, naming or no naming. Which is going to involve you anyway. The Lady's approval—"

"This is Leidolf."

Apparently that answered Cullen, who sighed. "He means you ill."

"You think I'm a fool? I know that. But the founder's line is thin."

"Sister." Alex specialized in one-word comments. This time his voice was heavy with disapproval.

She snorted. "You think Nokolai and the other clans don't know exactly who carries the bloodline?"

"She's right." Cullen tried to look apologetic. He wasn't good at it. "Not counting Brady—who, sadly, is a sure thing from this standpoint—you've got two from a collateral line who can almost certainly carry the mantle. Two others stand a fair chance. The rest are long shots."

"So we're thin," she said. "If Brady sires a child—"

"You want that to breed?" Cynna said, appalled.

"Don't judge what you don't understand." She straightened her shoulders. "And don't be playing with that spell of yours till you're mended. I'll check back with you in the morning, see how you're doing. Anything you need tonight, let Sabra know. You'd best stay in the room," she added to Cullen. "It's poor hospitality, but—"

Cullen broke in, polite but firm. "Serra, I've already called Rule." She stared at him, then looked at her brother, who nodded. He didn't look happy about it. She sighed.

"So I'll not stretch your hospitality at such a difficult time," Cullen went on. "And Cynna wants—"

"Cynna," Cynna said firmly, "wants to speak for herself. I appreciate the offer," she told the Rhej, "but I need to check on Timms."

The older woman shook her head. "He wasn't hurt near so bad as you. What you have to do, girl, is rest."

"I will, but after I see about Timms. I was in charge. He got hurt. I have to go to the hospital and see how he's doing, if he needs anything."

"She's right," Alex said unexpectedly. "Unless it will cause her grave injury, she must see to her man."

His sister rolled her eyes. "Lord help me. I expect macho bullshit from you—now I'm gettin' it from another woman. All right, honey, you do what you're gonna do, but come back tomorrow and let me see how your head's doing. We need to keep the inflammation down. Then, if you're up to it, maybe we'll talk a bit. Adriane—she's my apprentice—will want to meet you, and I'm a mite curious myself. Till now, I was the only Rhej who was out-clan before the Lady spoke."

"But… I'm sorry. Cullen has given you the wrong impression. I can't become a Rhej. I'm Catholic."

The woman smiled. "And I'm Baptist. Don't go to services as often as I ought to, but I still go. It don't matter, sugar. Didn't our Lord say it? 'In my Father's house are many rooms.' You an' me, we started out in one room, then it turned out we were needed in another one."