Mortal Ties

THIRTY-ONE

“I’M not easy about this,” Lily said as she shrugged into her jacket.

Rule cocked one eyebrow at her. “Wanting to stay close to protect me?”

“No—yes, I guess I am. But if that elf’s around and pulling mind-magic crap, I’m the only one guaranteed not to be affected.”

“The charms will protect Cullen and me and possibly the others.”

“Yes, but—”

“You can change your mind. I’m not sure why you think Hugo is so important, not now that we’ve got Jasper’s input. But if you do—”

“I don’t know why, either. It’s a hunch.” Clearly frustrated, she grabbed his face in her hands, pulled it to hers, and gave him a quick kiss. She kept her hands on his face to say fiercely, “There’s a reason Friar set this up at a middle school.”

Yes. Friar didn’t care if children were harmed. They did. “It’s approaching midnight. There won’t be any children at the school.”

“Don’t assume.” With that last instruction, she turned and left.

Mike and Todd were already in the hall. They’d go with her, so Rule was reasonably satisfied with her protection. Jeffrey and Patrick would stay here—Patrick with the two Laban guarding Beth, Jeffrey to watch the suite. Jeffrey wasn’t happy about that, but he was the youngest, barely trained and still unblooded. The rest of the men would go with Rule and Cullen.

“Kudos,” Cullen said. “That was as masterful a bit of manipulation as any I’ve seen your father pull off. I especially liked the part where you encouraged her to reconsider.”

Rule’s mouth crooked up. If anyone actually noticed his father manipulating others, Isen was having an off day. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Keep telling yourself that if you like, but don’t try telling it to Lily once she realizes what you did.”

True. “I hope Hugo turns out to be as important as she thinks. She’ll forgive me faster.”

Somehow Tony had tracked Hugo to a bar in the port area. The window for getting their hands on him was closing fast, though—he’d booked passage on a ship that left port in just over an hour. Lily had briefly considered sending Bureau people to pick Hugo up, but that might be problematic, given that he had some kind of Gift. And due to intuition or sheer stubbornness, she was determined to get hold of him.

It made sense to split up. Rule was pleased by how logically it all worked out…and gave him what he wanted. What most of him wanted, anyway. His wolf didn’t like it. The wolf wanted Lily close by, and never mind that close by meant heading into extreme danger. As far as the wolf was concerned, they should always act as a team, and Lily was always safer if they did.

But the man was in charge this time, and the man was relieved. About Lily, anyway. Jasper hadn’t called, and the alarm he’d set would go off in—

His phone vibrated. It was Jasper. Rule listened, responded briefly, and disconnected. “Let’s go.”

THE Joyce K. Hammond Middle School was one of those staunch redbrick buildings erected soon after the great earthquake. Three stories rose in impeccable symmetry above the street, their multipaned windows designed to admit both light and breezes. The school’s gymnasium was more recent, though they’d done a good job of blending it visually with the existing structure. On the inside, that gym looked like thousands of others—a glossy wooden floor, bleachers, basketball hoops.

Jasper sat on a folding metal chair in the middle of that shiny floor with his hands tied behind his back. He’d come here knowing it was a trap. He’d expected to see Friar holding a gun at Adam’s head to force Jasper to obey, and he’d been ready to do just that. Ready to trust—however desperately—that his newly found brother would somehow save them both.

Adam wasn’t here. Five young girls were.

The girls hadn’t been given chairs. They sat motionless on the floor a few feet from him. Two movie-extra thugs complete with black ski masks held automatic weapons on them. The thugs were both white. The girls they aimed at were more varied—one black, two white, two Hispanic. An admirably diverse assortment of hostages, Friar had pointed out, save for the uniformity of gender. They were dressed alike, too, or mostly so. Their tops varied, but they all wore jeans and athletic shoes and duct tape on their wrists and mouths. Above the duct tape their eyes were glassy.

The girls were alike in one more way. They glowed.

Not very much, and only when Jasper concentrated hard on using that kind of seeing. Robert Friar was a lot brighter, bright enough that Jasper didn’t have to work much to see the magic that wrapped him. Spells are always dimmer than the one who casts them.

This spell supposedly lodged them in the immediate moment. They had less short-term memory at the moment than an ant, Friar had told him cheerfully. They wouldn’t remember a thing about tonight. Death would provide the same result, he’d added, but they were all trying to avoid that particular outcome, weren’t they? For different reasons, but that was the point. The spell would encourage Jasper and his brother and his brother’s lovely fiancée to have confidence in Friar’s word. Once Friar had what he wanted, he promised that the girls would be set free, unharmed. The spell would wear off, and they wouldn’t remember anything, so turning them loose was easier than killing them. No bodies to dispose of, no police involvement.

Jasper didn’t take anything Friar said at face value, but the spell did keep them calm—almost comatose, in fact, but surely that was better than terrified. Maybe the rest of what Friar said about it was true, too. Jasper had to act as if it was. He had to act as if the girls could be saved. Somehow.

Friar stood beside Jasper’s chair. He was a middle-size, middle-aged man, slim and healthy, so deeply tanned he looked Hispanic, though he wasn’t. He was a good-looking man who had aged well, even to the silver streaks in his dark hair. His clothes—pressed khakis, loafers, a royal blue cotton shirt—were expensive but not ostentatious. He wore a Rolex on one wrist and an earbud in one ear. He would blend in most places, dressed like that.

Had he come to Hammond Middle School in those clothes to choose his victims? The school was in a prosperous neighborhood. He would have looked like any other parent. Older than some, but not enough to stand out.

Jasper searched the gym with his eyes yet again. It was two stories high with a bank of windows set along one wall just under the roof. The bottom of those windows was about eight feet from the top of the bleachers—a distance he could leap. He could get out that way…if he broke the window first. If he weren’t tied up. If the gun-wielding thugs would both decide to go take a piss at the same time.

Aside from the less-than-useful windows, there were three exits. Two led to locker rooms—one for boys, one for girls. One led to the rest of the school. All three were impossibly distant from where Jasper and the girls sat in their respective spots in the middle of the shiny wooden floor.

Lupi were fast. Jasper had some idea of how fast. He’d barely gotten away from them last night in spite of everything he could do to stop or slow them. For several terrible seconds he’d thought they were going to catch up with his damn motorcycle. But no one was fast enough. No one could cross that floor faster than the thugs could spray those girls with bullets.

This was not going to end well.

Friar glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “Your brother is ten minutes late.”

“He’ll be here.”

“He agreed to come at eleven forty-five.” When Jasper didn’t respond, Friar gave him a sharp glance. “He did agree, didn’t he, Jasper?”

“He agreed.”

“Then it appears I need to teach him the value of punctuality. Which of these pretty little darlings should I use for that lesson, do you think?” Friar smiled his shark’s smile. “You choose. Shall I use the little redhead or one of the pretty señoritas?”

“Rule will be here,” Jasper said forcefully.

“Oh, I’m sure, I’m sure. But he isn’t here on time. He’s violated our agreement already. Choose one for my little lesson.”

“I’m not playing your games.”

“Of course you will. If you don’t, I’ll hurt all five of them.”

Jasper swallowed. There was no answer, no possible response, he could give.

“Choices, choices,” Friar said amiably. “I’ll just get started now to encourage you to make up your mind. We’ll call your brother in a moment and let him listen in.” He knelt beside the nearest girl. The redhead. She wore a thin gold charm bracelet on one wrist. Her hair was short and curly. One of her shoes had come untied. She looked about ten.

The spell might keep her from remembering what had been done to her. It wouldn’t keep her from hurting.

“Hurt me instead,” Jasper said quickly. “I’ll scream, if you like. Sob. Make all kinds of noise and beg Rule to hurry. That’s better because he’ll know it’s happening right now. He might think that—that whatever sounds the girl makes is from a movie or something.”

“That’s clever,” Friar said approvingly. “I like to reward cleverness, so I’ll let you have it your way this time. I think you should use your own phone to call him.” Friar took Jasper’s phone out of his pocket.

“I’m kind of tied up at the moment.”

“Do you enjoy those action shows where the hero wisecracks while the villain does dreadful things to him? I can’t say I do. So unrealistic. Not just the fight scenes—one makes exceptions for that sort of thing—but those ridiculous heroes. No one behaves that way in such situations. You can trust me on that,” he added. “I’ve had experience with would-be heroes. They don’t make jokes for long.”

“The villains aren’t realistic, either, are they?” Jasper said. “Always so one-dimensional. Greedy bastards with small minds and large delusions, given to fits of rage when things don’t go their way.”

Friar smiled. “You make me glad I decided to do this your way. I’ll dial for you, shall I?” He pulled a knife out of his other pocket. A switchblade. A single touch and the blade snapped out. He stood and started toward Jasper.

Maybe Friar was right. Jasper’s throat was suddenly way too dry for witty repartee.

“I won’t do anything too permanent.” Friar looked so sane when he said that. He looked like a dentist reassuring a nervous patient. “Not your eyes, then. Did you know that the soles of the feet are one of the most nerve-rich places on the body? I think we’ll start with…” He tipped his head. “Ah. This is your lucky day, Jasper. Or night. Your brother is here.”

Jasper’s mouth was suddenly as full of spit as it had been dry a second ago. He swallowed. “Glad to hear it. And you know this how?” Did Friar have others stationed around the school that Jasper hadn’t seen?

“A ward. A very simple one. I’m quite the novice with them, so simple is best.”

“Is that how you knew—”

“I’d like you to be quiet now. Absolutely silent, in fact.”

LILY got out and slammed the car door. They’d gotten bloody damned lost on the way here. GPS could only do so much, and San Francisco streets were crazy.

Never mind. They were here now, and she’d just texted Tony, who’d replied that Hugo was still at the bar. It was two blocks away, but they’d driven past it while hunting for a place to park. There weren’t any. The streets were lined solid and the nearest lot was full, so Lily had Todd park illegally next to a hydrant. The bar Hugo has chosen was small but with a large neon sign that screamed TOPLESS! in red. Below that, in smaller letters, it said DINGOS. No apostrophe, so it was hard to say if the owner wanted to welcome wild dogs but didn’t know how to pluralize dingo, or if he was claiming to be one.

Mike and Todd closed in on either side of her. It was not a great neighborhood, but hardly the worst she’d been in. At this hour it was lively. Men outnumbered woman at least two-to-one, and Lily did not blend in with those women she saw. They probably weren’t all hookers, but you couldn’t tell by looking.

“You see Tony?” she asked. “Or smell him?”

“My nose isn’t that good in this form,” Todd said apologetically.

“I can’t see much in this crowd,” Mike said. “Why isn’t he waiting for us inside?”

“He’s banned from Dingos. Got in a fight there once, and they remember him.”

“He’s a memorable guy.”

“Is that why he couldn’t nab Hugo for you?”

She nodded. “That, and the fact that Hugo’s probably got some spellcraft, which makes dealing with him tricky. He definitely has a Gift, but we don’t know what kind. Something connected to Air.”

“I don’t know what that—”

Between one word and the next, Todd’s eyes rolled up in his head as a wall of magic rolled over Lily. Todd collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

So did Mike.

So did every damn person around her…save one.

The woman was short—around Lily’s height—but a lot more muscular. Also a lot furrier. Tawny fur covered every exposed inch from the toes of her bare feet to the tips of her catlike ears. A slightly darker ruff stood up between those ears. She stood twelve feet away from Lily with one hand pressed to the windshield of a parked car.

Aside from the fur, her face looked quite human as she smiled. “Miss Yu. My compliments on the strength of your Gift.” Her voice was lovely and lilting. Her English was West Coast American. “Or would you more properly be addressed as Agent Yu?”

Lily drew her gun and aimed. “You’re under—”

Something stung her cheek. “Under arrest,” she finished, automatically reaching up. She touched a feather. There was a feather stuck in her cheek. It burned, and her mind wasn’t working right. Neither was her hand, which felt clumsy gripping her weapon. She tightened those fingers as hard as she could, but her weapon was heavy. Way too heavy. It was pulling her down…all the way down…