Mortal Danger

THIRTY

ONE week later, Lily was at the airport, waiting for Cullen. Originally, Cynna had been supposed to pick him up, but she was upstate, looking for a missing child in one of the state parks. Lily could hardly argue for Cynna to ignore the needs of a lost child, but the other woman’s absence made Lily feel as if her plan was unraveling.

Or maybe it was just her that was unraveling.

Cullen had flown to New Orleans yesterday. He called the trip research, though he’d refused to tell her what he hoped to accomplish—“you being an officer of the law and all, luv,” he’d said with an irritating grin.

An officer of the law who was conspiring to open a portal to hell. She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, scanning the faces of the disembarking passengers. She didn’t have much room to criticize his methods.

It had been a long week.

Before Cynna left, she’d located three small nodes within a few miles of the spot both she and Lily felt Rule to be. He’d stopped moving around so much, which helped.

His current location corresponded to a point about two miles out to sea. Not so cool. That spot might be high and dry in Dis. She hoped so. But she was taking an inflatable raft, just in case.

Assuming they were able to cross, that is. There was a whole lot of nothing going on with the Rhejes. Hannah kept saying it took time to be sure of the Lady’s will, but Rule might not have time. They didn’t know… oh, there was Cullen. At last.

He had a carryon slung over one shoulder and his other arm slung over the shoulders of a dark-haired woman—fortyish, Caucasian, shapely, wearing a business suit that had probably started out crisp. Lily’s lips tightened.

He saw Lily, turned to give the woman a murmured word and a kiss, and left her sighing.

“What kind of research were you doing in New Orleans, anyway?” she asked as soon as he reached her.

“Chill,” he said. “Lorene and I were seatmates on the flight. I got what I went after.” He patted his bag, looking smug.

“And what was that, exactly?” She started down the concourse.

He ignored her question and asked his own. “Where’s Cynna?”

She told him, watching his face for signs of disappointment or relief. Despite all the sparks, he and Cynna hadn’t fallen into bed together at the first opportunity. They probably couldn’t stop arguing long enough, Lily thought.

“Anything else happen while I was gone? The scary old bats still conferring?”

“Hannah says they’re doing the Tell-Me-Three-Times, checking out the Lady’s will through rituals. But how long can that take? It’s been seven days.” The days weren’t the worst, of course. It was the nights that made her crazy. She wasn’t sleeping well. “They’re trying to convince themselves the Lady doesn’t want what she said she wanted. ‘Bring him back.’ That’s what she told Hannah. How much clearer could she be?”

He gave a hard-to-read glance. “You beginning to accept that the Lady is real, are you?”

She shrugged impatiently. “Maybe. They think she is, so why won’t they listen to Hannah?”

“Sweetheart, those women make the pope look like a screaming revolutionary. They aren’t going to like any decision that wanders a hair outside tradition.” He shrugged. “I guess when you carry that much of the past around inside you, you can’t help getting hung up on the status quo.”

“Yeah, well, if the status gets any more quo, we’ll be moving backward.”

“Is Hannah still convinced that Cynna’s her replacement?” he asked as he got on the escalator.

“Yeah.” She followed him. “And Cynna’s getting annoyed. I don’t blame her. Hannah keeps instructing her.”

Cullen let out a laugh. Two women riding the up escalator stared at him, practically drooling. “I’d like to see that.”

“You probably will. When Cynna objects, Hannah just smiles and says Cynna is Lady-touched, and she’ll come around when it’s time. As if Cynna could change religions just like that.”

“It isn’t a religion.”

“What?” She stepped off the escalator after him.

“Serving the Lady. There’s a spiritual aspect, or can be, but it isn’t a religion. Cynna could go right on being a Catholic if she wants.”

“You might not see a conflict, but I suspect the Church would.” She frowned at him. “You sound like you want her to do it. To apprentice herself to Hannah.”

He hesitated and then said slowly, “Hannah’s eighty. That’s old for a human, even one clan-born. There’s been a buzz for years about her lack of an apprentice. She had one once. She was lulled in the accident that blinded Hannah. That was more than thirty years ago.” He looked at Lily. “Nokolai has to have a Rhej.”

She was absurdly disappointed. She’d wanted him to share her anger, dammit. “That’s not Cynna’s problem. Anyway, I thought you didn’t like the Rhejes.”

Cullen stopped. He let his bag slip to the floor.

“What?” She looked around, barely resisting the urge to reach for her weapon. “What is it?”

“You.” He moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

She jolted and turned to face him. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?”

“I’m going to give you a massage.” He moved behind her again. “You’re wound so tight you’re likely to plug someone for bumping into you. If you won’t accept sex,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders again and kneading, “you’ll have to make do with a back rub.”

“Here?” But she didn’t move. His fingers dug in just right, relaxing muscles she hadn’t realized were so tight.

“Here. Where there are lots and lots of people around, and you won’t worry about where I’m going to put my hands next. This is a strictly asexual massage.”

She didn’t think Cullen could do asexual if his life depended on it. But he wasn’t trying to seduce her, she admitted. And… it felt good. His thumbs made circles on her neck, and it was like he’d poured warm oil along her muscles. Everything loosened.

“Damn, you’re tight. I mean that in a strictly asexual way,” he added. “Because I have no way of knowing—”

“Shut up, Cullen.” But she smiled in spite of herself.

“Have you been working out? That’s not as much fun as sex, but it can dissipate the tension.”

“Sure. With an Ml6.”

“Ah, I sense Benedict’s strong hand. He’s too banged up to train you himself, though.”

“Jeff’s put me and Cynna through our paces.”

She’d gone to Benedict for tactical advice and firepower. Nokolai possessed a weapons cache that horrified the law enforcement officer in her, but was coming in damned handy now. She and Cynna would carry Ml6s; Cullen got Benedict’s machine gun. He’d also carry the rocket launcher, and they’d each have grenades.

Benedict had helped with her lists, too.

They couldn’t know how big their gate would be until Cullen had a chance to evaluate the ritual, maybe not until he worked it. Mass wasn’t an issue, he’d told her, but size mattered. She didn’t pretend to understand that, but she and Benedict had worked up lists of supplies and weapons based on various possibilities.

What should they take if it was just her, Cullen, and Cynna? If they could take either two extra people or one person and the rocket launcher, which should they leave out? Or if—oh, that’s right. She hadn’t told Cullen about that possibility. “He wanted me to ask Max to join us.”

“Max?” His fingers paused. He chuckled. “I’d like to have seen his face when you invited him to go to hell.”

“I didn’t get to see it yet myself. He wasn’t at the club.”

Max was the owner of Club Hell, where Cullen danced. He was small, bad-tempered, foul-mouthed, and a gnome. Though no one was supposed to know the last bit.

“Why Max, anyway?” He began knuckling her spine. “He’s no good with weapons.”

“He can fight, though, and he’s smaller than any of the lupi. Plus Benedict says gnomes are immune to demon magic. The compulsion type, at least.”

Cullen made a scoffing noise. “Rumor. Tall tales.”

“I don’t think Benedict makes tactical judgments based on rumor. Will you ask him?”

“Sure. He’ll turn me down, but I’ll ask.” He gave her shoulders a last squeeze. “Better?”

It was. She rolled her shoulders and nodded. “Thanks.”

“I’m just looking after myself, you know.” He picked up his bag.

“How’s that?” she fell back into step beside him.

“You stay stretched this tight and you’re going to screw up and get us all killed. Can’t run things by committee once we cross, you know. You’ll be in charge.”

Uneasy and unsure why, she shook her head. “I’m the least knowledgeable of us. You or Cynna should be captain, or head wolf, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Boss bitch?” He grinned at her scowl. “No, it needs to be you. Cynna’s not used to running the show, and I’m not alpha enough.”

She snorted. “Oh, yeah, I’ve noticed how submissive you are.”

“I do like to be on top, but I try to be flexible. There are all sorts of other lovely positions. For example—”

“Cullen.”

He flashed her a grin. “Right. Alpha isn’t really a synonym for bossy, you know. I could handle that just fine. A true alpha… funny. I never tried to put it into words before, but I know I’m not one.”

They’d reached the automatic doors leading outside. She went through first. “So is a true alpha different from a plain old alpha?”

“Yes,” he said definitely. “What you mean by alpha isn’t what a lupus means. You think of it as machismo— someone who dominates others. We mean someone who can’t be dominated. A subtle but real difference. Bullies need to dominate, but can be cowed if you’re tougher than they are.”

She nodded, squinting against the sun. Where—? Oh, yeah. “I’m parked in Section C. So what’s the rest of it?” she asked as they wove between the parked cabs waiting for a fare. “Because you’ve got the ‘don’t even try to dominate me’ thing down pat, I’d say.”

“Glad you noticed. The rest of it…” He shook his head, falling silent as they started across the parking area.

Lily let the subject drop. Why was she uncomfortable about being in charge after they crossed? It wasn’t just her lack of knowledge. It was… guilt, she realized, feeling a little sick. She wasn’t sure she should be trusted with their lives. She’d proven she was willing to risk them by roping them into doing this.

There was the way she was healing, too. Or not healing. The burn was better, but she still got so damned tired. She’d been taking naps in the middle of the day, for God’s sake. That wasn’t normal. If she couldn’t—

“Rule has it.”

“It?” He’d startled her. “What it?”

“The alpha thing. The part I don’t have. So does Benedict. Mick didn’t.”

The brother who died. “I didn’t really know Mick. He was already under Helen’s control when we met, so I never had a chance to know the real person.”

“The real Mick wasn’t the sonofabitch you met, but he was no angel, either. He wanted to be Lu Nuncio. Helen didn’t plant that desire. She just used it. Which way?” he asked as the reached Section C.

“Down here.” She was almost sure this was the right aisle.

Cullen followed. “Mick convinced himself he’d be better for Nokolai than Rule, but his ambition was really all about what he wanted. Or what he didn’t want. He hated the idea of submitting to his younger brother. Isen knew it. That’s why he didn’t name Mick heir.

“Isen’s got it,” he went on, seeming to speak to himself as much as her. “He’s a ruthless bastard, but he’s ruthless on behalf of the clan. Or sometimes for the good of all lupi, everywhere. A true alpha instinctively thinks of the clan first. I don’t. I can,” he added, with a twitch of a smile. “But it’s an effort. With Rule, it’s automatic.”

Yes, it was. Lily’s throat tightened. She nodded, concentrating on not letting her eyes fill. “Here’s my car,” she said unnecessarily, clicking her remote.

“You’ve got it, too.”

“Me?” She shook her head. “The boss bitch part, maybe. But I don’t have the clan-first instinct. Half the time I forget I am clan.”

“That’s not what I mean. If you’re in charge, you’ll think of the group after we cross, not just what you want or need. You won’t be able to stop yourself. Just like right now,” he said, opening the door and tossing in his bag. “You’re wanting to confess. You’re afraid you might be willing to spend me to save Rule.”

She stared. “And you think that qualifies me to lead?”

He smiled and patted her cheek. “You’re proving my point, luv.” He climbed in and shut the door.

Baffled, she shook her head went around to her side.

They were in the midst of heavy traffic on 1-5 before he spoke again. “I didn’t tell you what I went to New Orleans for.”

“I noticed,” she said dryly.

“I needed to confirm something about Dis I’d read in several references. Not good references, mind you. The only grimoires they didn’t burn during the Purge were all but worthless—fiction mixed with fantasy and peppered with a few stray facts, probably by accident. I can’t tell you how much nonsense got passed on from one medieval dabbler to another. One asshole would make up something to sound important, and half a dozen others dutifully recorded it.”

“Actually, you have told me.” Many times.

“Have I?” He glanced at her and then ahead. “That’s why I needed to double-check this. The text I wanted is far more reliable than most. It, ah, wasn’t available. But I was able to buy a photocopy of the pertinent pages. Cost a pretty penny just for that,” he added. “Isen covered it, though.”

“I take it this—” Her cell phone rang. “Pass me my phone, would you?”

He dug it out of her purse and handed it to her.

“Yes?” As she listened, her heart began to pound. “Yes. All right. Tell Cynna—no, I’ll call her myself. Do you know when they… wait, let me get a pen.”

But Cullen beat her to it. She repeated the information aloud, and he jotted down the flight numbers.

“Got it,” she said. “We’ll pick up the one from Canada. As Isen to send someone for the other one, so we can… Right. Later.”

She disconnected and gave Cullen a tight grin. “You heard?”

His eyes sparked with the same excitement she felt. “The scary old bats are coming.”

“Two of them are. Hannah says these are the two who matter. They’ve got the other pieces of the ritual. They’ve agreed to share those memories after they arrive, but they have to be present for the ritual.”

It was going to happen. They were going to make it happen. “I’m heading for Club Hell. The first one will arrive in three hours. We can talk to Max and then come back to the airport for her.”

“He’s not going to agree.”

“We have to try. Here.” She handed him her phone. “See if you can reach Cynna. We need to know when she can return.”

A few minutes later she breathed a sigh of relief when Cullen reported his brief conversation with Cynna. She Found the boy—still alive, thank God—and was at the Sacramento airport now, on standby for a flight back.

Her insides humming, Lily started going over her mental lists. What hadn’t she done? What hadn’t she thought of?

“Lily.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t finish telling you what I learned in New Orleans.”

“Oh. Right.” It must be important. “What was it, then?”

“There’s no moon in Dis.”

She waited a beat. When he didn’t explain, she said, “And that means—?”

“Rule went there as a wolf. He won’t have been able to Change.”

She nodded, frowning, still not understanding why he was grave.

“Don’t you know anything about us yet? By now he may not be thinking as a man, but as a wolf. He’ll still know us, but he might not understand what we tell him.” His breath gusted out. “He’ll follow you, though. You’re his mate, so he’ll go through the gate with you.”

That wasn’t great, but still didn’t seem enough to make the bones stand out so sharply in Cullen’s too-beautiful face. “What’s the rest of it?”

“If he’s been in wolf-form too long, he’ll have lost the man altogether. He won’t be able to Change back.”

Her mouth went dry. “It’s only been a week. A week and part of a day.”

“Here, yes. I’ve told you that time doesn’t pass in other realms at the same rate as it does here. In Dis it’s erratic. For Rule, a day may have passed. Or a week… or a month. A month,” he said gently, “would be too long.”

She opened her mouth to argue. She needed to argue. What he said was just stupid. Time didn’t behave that way, jumping around all over the place. But when she looked at his grim expression, doubt hit, stealing her certainty and too much of her hope.

So she looked straight ahead. After a moment she repeated her mantra. “He’s alive, though. Rule is still alive.” This time she could add to it: “And we’re going after him.”