Blood Magic

TWENTY-EIGHT

THE look on the captain’s face was deeply satisfying. His jaw dropped. His face, already red from the heat, hit a dangerous level of crimson. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“My fiancé, Rule Turner. You’ve got handcuffs on him. He was injured disposing of a bomb that might have killed dozens or even hundreds of people, and you’ve cuffed him.”

“He’s a lupus.”

She allowed her eyebrows to lift slightly. “And . . . ?”

“And he threw a goddamned bomb. And how the hell do you claim to know what he did or didn’t do?”

“The dragon told me.” She glanced at Rule. He wore his bland face, but something coursed behind his eyes. Humor? Incredulity? Anger that she’d chosen this of all moments to announce their engagement? “Did Sam have it right?” she asked him.

“Basically, yes. I saw the, ah, perp leave a sack outside Cullen’s room.”

“Outside the room? He didn’t go in?”

Rule shook his head. “My nose told me what it contained. I carried it to the window behind the nurses’ station, broke the window, and got rid of the bomb. An orderly saw me. I’ve described him to the captain. I don’t know if anyone has spoken to him.”

“Lieutenant James,” Dreyer demanded of T.J., “who is this woman, and why did you bring her here?”

“She told you who she is, and you’ve got it backward. She brought me.”

Rule’s eyelids dipped to half-mast. He spoke too softly for the others to hear. “Your sense of timing amazes me.”

It wasn’t what he said. Maybe it was his voice or the look in his eyes. For whatever reason, one kind of heat flashed over into another—inappropriate as hell, wild as a grass fire, and just as hard to ignore. She took a second to settle her breath, then answered him, pitching her voice so low only he could hear. “He’s pissed me off. And I get hot-mad, not cold-mad like you.”

Again something flashed in his eyes—something she could almost read.

Lily turned back to the captain, placing herself between the little man and Rule. “Do you have anything—anything other than blind prejudice, that is—to discredit Rule’s account of events?” She paused barely long enough for a hiccup. “I didn’t think so. You need to have those cuffs removed now. You also—”

“Wait just one second. You can’t tell me who to arrest or not arrest.”

Her eyebrows climbed again, higher this time. “Is Rule under arrest?”

“He’s a suspect. Until I—”

“Has he been disruptive? Violent? Is there any bloody damned reason for those cuffs?”

“It’s simple common sense to restrain a lupus!”

“The courts do not agree with you. Have the cuffs removed. Call the officers who are trying to remove Special Agent Weaver and the others from hospital room 418.”

“If anything your fiancé says is true, that room’s a crime scene.”

“The perp never entered the room. Your officers need to look for evidence in the hall. The patient in that room is under the Bureau’s protection. He is a high-value consultant who has been targeted by the perp who damn near blew up this hospital. He and those guarding him will not be moved until we’ve completed preparations for secure and medically safe transport. In addition, you need to follow standard protocol for dispersing the crowds gathered outside the police barriers.”

“Listen, I don’t care who you are or what you’ve been sleeping with. You are not in charge here. This is a local matter, not federal, and I can have you removed if you interfere.”

“Captain Dreyer.” Lily advanced on him. “Magic was used in the commission of multiple felonies—attempted murder, arson, possibly conspiracy to commit an act of terrorism. So yes, I can come in here and interfere.” She smiled the way a knife smiles at the prospect of parting flesh. “And that’s who I’m sleeping with, Captain. Not what. Who.”

“That is well-done,” said a clear but accented female voice, “but we cannot waste time on this pig-eyed fellow.”

A tiny Asian woman wearing black slacks and a thin silk shirt in purest white marched up to Lily and the captain. Her hair was silver-shot midnight, twisted on top of her head in a tight bun and pinned there by delicately jeweled hair sticks. Her posture was impeccably straight. The fine tracery of wrinkles in her face seemed an embellishment of the ivory skin, artfully spun by that great spider, Time.

“Another one?” Dreyer sputtered. “Another interfering bitch? Where did you come from? I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a fucking Fed, too.”

“You,” Grandmother said, “will be quiet now.” She stopped in front of him and looked directly into his eyes. “You will do as the federal agent told you, and you will stop making trouble.”

Dreyer’s face lost its rage-induced color. His eyes glazed. “Trouble?”

“You will cooperate.” Grandmother stressed the word as if it were code. After a second her head tilted as she glanced at Rule. “Do not concern yourself with the handcuffs, however. I will see to those.” She waved a hand. Her lips moved, though Lily didn’t hear anything.

The cuffs clattered to the pavement.

“Thank you, Madame,” Rule said politely, bringing his arms in front of him with a small wince. He rubbed one wrist. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Grandmother’s eyes gleamed. She was delighted with herself. “Mr. Seabourne taught me a cantrip for locks. I thought it might be useful.”

Lily stared at Dreyer in dismay. He’d turned to the cop next to him—a sergeant, who looked deeply puzzled—and was issuing orders for the people in room 418 to be left alone.

Oh, shit. “Grandmother,” she said, hurrying forward, “I am so very glad to see you. But you can’t go around ensorcelling police captains!”

“Obviously, I can. That I do not usually choose to do so is beside the point. You were doing well, but my way was quicker.” The dainty, imperial chin tipped higher. “I have been walking, and it is very hot. I believe the air-conditioning in the hospital is working once more. We will adjourn to Mr. Seabourne’s room to discuss matters.”

Even Madame Yu couldn’t decree an immediate exodus to air-conditioning. Rule wondered if she experienced heat the way he did, or if she was closer to human norms. A hundred degrees might make him want shade, but it wasn’t debilitating. Such temperatures were hard on humans, yet all around him firefighters battled disaster in spite of the heat and their heavy protective gear.

Humans did amaze him sometimes.

He waited with the other civilians while Lily and the man with her—he worked in Homicide, Rule remembered, though he couldn’t recall the man’s name—spoke with Dreyer and the fire department official. Lily wanted to confirm that the building was safe, to find out about casualties, and to outline the particular needs of an investigation which required evidence of the use of magic. She’d called in the FBI crime scene van, but it wasn’t here yet, and much of the work of managing the scene and locating witnesses would fall to—as she put it—the locals.

Captain Dreyer was the epitome of cooperation. Rule thought he would have agreed if she’d suggested he go home and watch Sesame Street. It was disturbing. Pleasant, but disturbing. “How long will he be like that?” he murmured to Madame Yu.

“A day, a week.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I will admit I used more power than was necessary. He has pig eyes.”

In other words, she’d been pissed. Like her granddaughter. He smiled. “And did you use a similar method to get past the police barricades?”

She looked at him sternly, but her eyes were twinkling. “This is a silly question.”

“Here’s another one. What did you trade for with Cullen to get that unlock spell you used?” Cullen was like a dragon in one way. Dragons hoarded and occasionally bartered information; Cullen hoarded and occasionally bartered spells.

“I was very generous. I told him one way of creating a wan chi spell, which is a carrier spell. You do not know what that means, but he did. I also told him about an out-realm being who has lived in China.”

Startled, he said, “You told him about the Chimei? When was—”

“Months ago. Hush.”

The slightly scruffy older man who used to work with Lily ambled up to them. What was his . . . Oh, yes, Rule remembered now. He had what sounded like two first names—Thomas James. Lily called him by his initials. T.J.

“Ma’am,” Thomas James said, “you can head inside now. But the elevators aren’t working yet, and I understand the patient you’re wanting to visit is on the fourth floor. Do you need—”

Madame Yu awarded his concern a single snort and started for the hospital entry.

“Guess not.” James glanced at Rule. “I met her once before. Did Lily tell you?”

Rule shook his head, glanced over at Lily—who waved him on and kept talking to the fire department official—and started for the hospital entry. “What was it like?”

“Embarrassed the hell out of Lily.” He fell into step beside Rule, grinning. “She’d just transferred to Homicide and I sort of took her under my wing. Habit of mine, with the young ones. I guess she said something about that to her grandmother, because a week later Lily turns up, all stiff and embarrassed, telling me her grandmother wants to have lunch with me. To check me out,” he added in case Rule, not being a cop, had overlooked the obvious. “Not that Lily said so, of course. But Mrs. Yu didn’t have a problem saying it.”

“You must have checked out. You seem to be intact.”

“That,” James said after a moment, “isn’t funny. She scared the shit out of me. I laughed it off—you know, made like it was the same as being interrogated by that fourth-grade teacher who terrified you as a kid. And it was, in a way. But in another way, it wasn’t the same at all.” His brow creased. “What did she do to Dreyer, anyway?”

Rule considered various answers, but decided to keep it simple. “Nothing permanent. The, ah, skill is one she rarely uses.”

James grunted, looking thoughtful.

The ability to ensorcell with one’s gaze wasn’t a human talent. As far as Rule knew, dragons were the only beings who could do it. At some point, Madame Yu had been transformed into a dragon. At some point, she’d returned to her original form—but some of the dragon magic had remained. It must have become interwoven with her being so deeply that it couldn’t be separated. Deeply enough that she’d passed a version of it down through the blood.

That part didn’t surprise Rule. Didn’t he enjoy some degree of his wolf’s gifts even in this form? Didn’t lupi pass their magic down through the blood, even though they mated in human form?

No, the surprising part was Madame Yu’s other ability. That seemed to have little to do with dragon magic. Rule had never heard of anyone else who could turn into a—

“You think she put a whammy on me like she did with Dreyer?” James asked suddenly. “Put the fear into me magically, I mean.”

“Hmm? Oh, you mean Madame Yu. No, I don’t think so. She inspires a certain caution without resorting to magic. The, ah, unusual ability she used on Dreyer. . . that experience isn’t one you’d mistake for anything else.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows rose in surprised curiosity. “Pulled it on you, has she?”

“Once.” It had been terrifying. Infuriating. Then he’d learned why she’d done it—in a misguided attempt to draw demon poison from his system into herself. The woman lacked sense sometimes, particularly if she was protecting those she cared about. Again, like her granddaughter. “I was angry, but it was an unusual situation, and her motives were selfless.”

Another grunt, this one skeptical. “You like her.”

“Enormously.” They reached the hospital doors. With the electricity back on, they opened automatically. The air inside was cooler, but not back to its usual air-conditioned chill.

The lobby was a mess. Firefighters and mud did seem to go together. Even here, where there had been neither fire nor hoses, there were muddy footprints everywhere. Very few people, though. A trio who looked like clerical or administrative workers were clustered behind the admissions desk, talking intently with a firefighter. There was a cop—female, young, in uniform—standing at the door to the stairwell.

No one else. Most notably, no Madame Yu. She must have headed straight upstairs.

“Just as well you and the grandmother get along, I guess, considering you’re going to be family.” James thrust out a hand. “Congratulations.”

Rule shook his hand—and discovered it was pleasing, satisfying in a way he hadn’t expected, to receive this man’s well wishes. “Thank you.”

“I was going to warn you to treat Lily right and all that, but I’d forgotten about the grandmother. I figure you for a man with some sense. You won’t want her upset with you.”

Rule grinned. “No, I won’t.”

“Good.” James nodded firmly, then looked pained. “I’m going to have to go to the wedding, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Camille will expect it. Camille’s my wife. It’s going to be a big deal, isn’t it? Written up in the gossip rags, that sort of thing.”

“I’m afraid so.”

James shook his head mournfully. “Thought so. Tell Lily Camille will make my life hell if she doesn’t get to go.”

“I’ll pass that on.” Rule looked back at the doors. Lily was hurrying their way, her stride as quick and energetic as if she weren’t wilting from the heat. “I’d like a private word with Lily before we go upstairs.”

James’s eyebrows rose. “Sure. I’ll just head up and check out this mysterious wounded sorcerer.”

Rule winced. “I’d appreciate it if you manage not to say that too loudly. Or at all.”

“Heh. Don’t worry about that—I’m good with secrets. Ask Lily. As for heading upstairs, I was having you on. I’ve got to see a man about his dead brother. Tell Lily—no, I’ll tell her myself. Her stuff’s in my car, and her car’s back at Rosa’s. I need to have a word with her to sort that out.” He gave another nod and headed for the doors.

Rule watched as James stopped Lily. They spoke briefly. Lily passed him her keys. Rule did not pace or fidget. But he wanted to.

Patience was a skill he’d acquired. He was usually good at it, though he’d no more begun that way than a pup arrives prepared to wait calmly for its mother’s milk. But patience had its limits. Or rather, he had his limits, and he’d reached them. He wanted to speak with his nadia. Now.

The moment she entered, he indicated this desire by grabbing her hand. The one with his ring on it. He traced it with one finger. “Why now?”

“It’s a bone. Also an apology.”

“It’s a what?”

“T.J. said I should throw Dreyer a bone to distract him. So that’s part of the reason—to give Dreyer a way to get back at me that wouldn’t be as damned stupid as whatever else he might have come up with. He’s the type who has to bite back, so I aimed him where I wanted him to go.”

“You expect him to tell others? To leak it to the press?”

She shrugged. “That’s the idea.”

“He may not. Madame Yu told him not to make trouble.”

She looked appalled all over again. “I didn’t want her to do that.”

“I know,” he said gently. Her conscience pricked her over things that seemed to him pointless, but her discomfort was real. “It will wear off, she said.”

“And when it does, he’s really going to want a chunk of flesh. He won’t know what happened, but he’ll be scared, so he’ll come after me and you and anyone else he can. Rule . . .”

He ran his thumb over her ring. “Yes?”

She sighed and looked down at her hand resting in his. “I should have asked you first. Before I started with the ‘my fiancé’ talk, I mean. I know it matters, all that PR stuff. It annoys me, but you’re the public face for your people, so the image, the spin—they matter. We don’t have time to hold a damned press conference now, so the press will probably get Dreyer’s version first. That might make it harder to spin things the way you’d planned.”

He studied her intently. “I’m flexible, and I’m good at spin. I’ll make it work. You just wanted to distract the captain?”

“The bone was part of it,” she agreed, nodding at their clasped hands as if it were them she addressed, not him. “The other part was the apology. It seemed like the best way to apologize for my foot-dragging was to wear the ring. But you get the words, too.”

Now she looked up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was an idiot, and I’m sorry I got mad at you for pointing out what I was doing. Or not doing. You were right. Not a hundred percent, but mostly right. I do need to know the why, but I don’t have to . . . I can work on the dress and the wedding stuff while I’m figuring out the why. Because the why isn’t going to change anything. I just need to know it.”

Naturally, he kissed her.

Rule expected her to shove him back. They were in public. She was on duty. She grabbed his shirt in both hands and kissed him as if he were air and she’d been underwater way too long.

Rule wasn’t sure which of them eased back. Probably her. He sure as hell didn’t remember telling his hands to turn loose. Of course, his brain had shut right off, what with all the blood in his body being otherwise occupied, so he might have done any number of things without noticing.

“Me, too,” she said hoarsely. “Oh, God, me, too. But not here. Not for hours, dammit. You could have died.”

He found a little breath, enough to say, “I didn’t.”

“But you could have.”

“A lot of people could have died today, and didn’t.”

“Well, you saved them, didn’t you? And yourself.” She shoved her hair away from her flushed face. “I need to remember that. You’re good at taking care of yourself, even when you’re dealing with a kill-happy sorcerer-assassin who can look like anyone.”

“He can’t. Look like anyone, that is. Not without the Chimei, and he was here without her today. At least that’s what I concluded, and Sam confirmed it.”

“Well,” she said again, and nodded as if he’d handed her an important puzzle piece, “we’d better get upstairs and see what Grandmother has to say. She was hiding. Now she isn’t. We’d better find out why.”