Blood Magic

FIFTEEN

IT was still full dark when Rule stood in front of the window wall in the living area the next morning, sipping coffee. His view faced west, out toward the ocean. The moon hung near the horizon, her face half shadow, half light. Lily still slept. He’d reset the alarm to make sure of that. She wasn’t always realistic about how much sleep she needed.

He watched the darkness and listened to the song of the partly veiled moon and remembered jealousy.

He’d experienced it, of course. Lupi weren’t immune to the urge to hoard, whether it be toys, attention, love, or sex. Young lupi in particular—those who hadn’t yet been received into the mantle—were subject to the flashy emotional noise of jealousy.

Sometimes adult lupi were, too.

A familiar sadness stole over Rule as he remembered his brother Mick. Mick had been ten years older than Rule, nine years younger than Benedict. Unlike Rule and Benedict, though, he’d been raised away from Clanhome until puberty rendered that impossible. His mother had refused to let Isen have custody until almost too late.

Rule often wondered how much that had shaped him.

Others had seen a simple dominance struggle between Mick and Rule—normal and even healthy. Rule knew it had gone deeper, been more twisted. Mick had been jealous of Rule. Jealous when Rule was young because of the time Rule had with their father. Jealous when they were both adults because Isen had named Rule Lu Nuncio. Mick’s thinking had been so deformed by the bitter emotion he could see that only as a father’s preference, not a Rho’s choice. A theft of love.

Lupi had a name for that particular form of jealousy: fratriodi, or brother hatred. It was a grave sin. The poison of Mick’s jealousy had left him open to the manipulations of a woman named Helen, who’d used it—and an ancient staff—to control him.

Yet in the end Mick had chosen to save Rule instead of killing him. He’d died, but he’d died clean of fratriodi.

Sexual jealousy was as poisonous as any other type. Rule had no intention of indulging in it. But this wasn’t jealousy, he decided as he turned away from the window. He crossed to the breakfast bar, where his laptop waited. An illicit curiosity, perhaps.

The program had long since finished running the calculations he needed. He’d begun dabbling in currency trading, needing a way to bring Leidolf’s disastrous finances into better shape. It was risky, no doubt about that, especially with the shaky state of the world economy.

But that very instability left room for traders to make—or lose—large amounts of money with a relatively small initial stake.

He checked his input figures one last time, then put in his buy order. Then he opened his browser and logged on to the site he used for background information on those he did business with. Google was handy, but this site, operated by a detective agency, offered a bit more. For his monthly fee he could obtain a records check on almost anyone. If that raised questions for him, he could contact the agency for a deeper look.

Beck, Cody, he typed in the first field. In one of the other fields he entered San Diego County Sheriff’s Department. Then he hit SEARCH.

Short of death, it was impossible for him to lose Lily. She’d agreed to marry him, and would have been faithful even without the conventional human bond. She loved him. He knew that.

But he wanted very much to learn what he could of the man she’d spoken of with such smothered regret.

“You changed the alarm setting.”

Rule smiled. Lily looked so disgruntled and tidy standing there in her pressed dress slacks, sleeveless white shirt, and bare feet. Her hair was still damp from her shower. She held the bunched-up comforter under one arm. “Only by forty-five minutes,” he said.

“Which isn’t enough to help. Just means I’ll be running late all day.” She came into the kitchen, where Rule was getting his second cup of coffee, took down a mug, and held it out. “Harry didn’t wake me, either.”

“I bribed him with ham.” Rule filled Lily’s mug and took the comforter from her. “I’ll wash it.”

She slid him a grin, took a sip, closed her eyes, and took another one.

He loved to watch her enjoy coffee. His coffee. She drank the stuff regurgitated by cop shop coffeemakers, but she didn’t enjoy it.

He opened the sliders that concealed the washer and dryer in their nook off the kitchen. “Nettie’s still asleep, as she should be. She expended a great deal on Cullen yesterday. Max won a hundred dollars from Jason at poker. Either he didn’t cheat or Jason is smarter than I realized. Cynna and Cullen are asleep, or were an hour ago. Toby’s with my father. When I spoke with him, he was worried about Cullen, but, ah, unaware of the spell. I decided to allow him that ignorance.”

“He’s not too upset?”

Rule shook his head. “He thinks Cullen is healing normally. He wanted to go see Cullen, but when told he couldn’t, fell back on wheedling for permission to hike up into the mountains with some of the other children.”

“Hmm.” Lily followed, coffee cup in hand. “You’ve been busy. Up awhile?” She glanced at the breakfast bar, where his laptop was up and humming, though with a screensaver at the moment. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to.

“I’m fine, Lily. You know I don’t need much sleep.”

“You need some, though, and the way things have been going lately—”

“Is temporary. I may have found someone to help with Leidolf’s investments. Your father recommended him.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “A human?”

“Unfortunately, Leidolf hasn’t invested in its members’ education sufficiently. I don’t have anyone within the clan who can handle the sort of transactions I’m interested in.” He wouldn’t mention just whom Lily’s father had recommended. More fun to surprise her, if things worked out. “Will you be going to the hospital right away?”

She grimaced. “I need two of me. Maybe three. I’ll get to the hospital, but not yet. I had an idea while I was showering. A way to guard Cullen pretty damned effectively that doesn’t involve me or Cynna, and it just might help with something else, too. Uh . . . I wondered if you wanted to go along. If you drove, I could get some work done on the way.”

Amused, he tugged her hair. “You wouldn’t be trying to guard me, would you?”

“Maybe a little. I don’t really think she’s involved. According to what Cynna told us it’s unlikely, and besides, she would have tried for you or your father. Or that’s what I think, but maybe I don’t know how an Old One with a really big grudge lays her plans, so . . .” She shrugged. “Either way, I can use the drive time to read some stuff I requested. Research is getting me a list of suspected professional hits that might match this perp’s MO.”

“All right.” Since he’d already planned to find a way to intrude himself into her day so he could guard her, that worked for him. “Where are we going?”

“Well.” She sipped, smiled . . . but it was a complex smile, woven of many strands of emotion. “I dreamed of dragons last night.”