Ritual Magic

THIRTY-NINE

WHEN Friar had Lily turn onto an all-too-familiar road heading out of town, she knew where they were going. Rage swam up hot and strong. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, making her turn jerky.

She wasn’t the only one. “You son of a bitch,” Cullen breathed. “You knew where it was all along. You knew, and made sure we didn’t call and warn anyone.”

Lily didn’t dare take her eyes off the road, so she didn’t see exactly what happened. One second Cullen was staring at Friar. The next there was the smack of flesh on flesh and Cullen bounced back into the seat, having left it so abruptly Lily missed it.

“Cullen,” Rule said. “No.”

Cullen subsided, breathing heavily. “I didn’t swear to anything.”

“I did,” Rule said. “And you’re under my authority. You will not cause me to forswear myself. And neither,” he added in a voice dropped straight into arctic cold, “will he.”

No question who he was. Lily flexed her hands on the wheel, encouraging circulation to return. “You might as well admit it,” she told the bastard in the backseat. He was gloating. She was sure of it, though she couldn’t see his face. “The knife’s at Clanhome, isn’t it?”

“I did warn you,” the bastard in question said in a silky voice. “I said the next victim would probably be one of your people, and where else does one find your people?”

Yeah, he’d known all along where the knife was—and he’d made sure they didn’t call and warn Isen. That had been part of the goddamn deal. Lily breathed deep, trying to keep calm. She was driving. She couldn’t fling herself over the seat the way Cullen had tried to do.

“Perhaps we don’t need you now,” Rule said. “We know where we’re going.”

“Clanhome’s a big place, and time is short. Do you want to waste some of that time hunting the knife?”

“Cullen,” Rule said, “will the knife’s holder need a node for the rite?”

Cullen was silent for a long moment. “I don’t know. I don’t bloody know. I’d think they would want one, but that damn dead god managed to open gates without a node.”

“You see?” Friar sounded much too smug. “You can’t assume you can go straight to that node of yours. What if they’re using a ley line instead? Plenty of them to choose from.”

Lily wanted to grab his tongue and yank it out. She could imagine doing just that. Get a pair of pliers, grip that slimy, lying tongue with them, and rip it out, then watch him choke on his own blood and . . . and what in God’s name was she thinking?

She’d long wanted Friar dead. She could have killed him, given the chance. Right or wrong, she knew she was capable of that, but to imagine torturing him . . . that wasn’t her. Surely that wasn’t her. She shuddered and wished she knew how to pray, but the only one she remembered from her religion-averse childhood started Now I lay me down to sleep, which was no help at all.

What do you believe in?

Try. And keep trying. “Now that we know roughly where we’re going, we can start making plans,” she said in a voice that surprised her. She sounded a lot more level than she felt.

MIRIAM stood in the open French doors. Outside on what was left of the deck, five brawny men pried up the last boards. They were shirtless and lovely to watch, but she felt so . . . so impatient. Restless. As if parts of her were trying to fly away even while the rest of her stood here, watching. She couldn’t begin laying out what was needed for the ritual until the earth was bare and had been raked to remove any nails that might have fallen.

There’s time, a beloved voice said soothingly.

He was right. Of course he was right, though she glanced at her watch anyway, to see how much time. An hour and fifty minutes until the conjunction, and really, the ritual required very little prep. “I don’t know why I’m so jittery,” she said apologetically. “I can’t seem to think clearly.”

Their plans had changed after she got here. Originally, Miriam had intended to use a node that was halfway up a rocky hill, but just as she could now hear her beloved and feel his presence, he could now perceive the world through her. Yet he hadn’t sensed the node behind the house until she was almost on top of it, which had intrigued him greatly. He’d changed the location for the ritual. There was something about that node, he said, that he needed to understand. Something connected to Isen Turner . . . who she would sacrifice atop that node in an hour and fifty minutes.

If they ever got all those stupid boards removed.

Love, you’re shaking.

Was she? How odd. “It’s a bit unpleasant,” she whispered. “What I must do to him is . . . I know him, you see.”

He crooned to her in Welsh—a beautiful, lilting language she didn’t know, but that soothed her in one way even as it roused her in another. It was the language he used for lovemaking. She forgot to be shaky and upset and licked her lips. “That both helps and doesn’t.”

He chuckled. There was a man you were eyeing earlier.

“The one in charge of security?” She’d forgotten his name, but she remembered him quite well otherwise. Long and lean, very masculine, with straw-colored hair and the most beautiful way of moving . . . she turned, knowing exactly where he was.

Everything had gone perfectly, and all she’d had to do was follow Dafydd’s plan . . . which was just as well, because for some reason she couldn’t plan well herself right now. But Dafydd had thought of everything. First put Isen Turner to sleep, then have the guards nearby come in. They’d told her who was in charge of security; they’d summoned the man by saying his Rho wanted him. The security man—what was his name?—had done as he was told, too. He’d brought twenty of the guards here and made sure those currently patrolling wouldn’t interfere. The knife could control more than that, but Dafydd was reserving most of its power for the ritual. Miriam had given those twenty guards her instructions—Dafydd’s instructions—and told the security man to wait right there, next to the table.

And so, of course, he had.

Go work out your fidgets, little one. And he goosed her right between her legs with a flare of heat.

She laughed out loud and wiggled, delighted with the hunger that spread out from his touch, and walked up to the tall man watching her silently. She ran a hand up his chest. “Mmm. What was your name again?”

“Pete,” he said, never taking his eyes off her.

“Well, Pete, I have something else I’d like you to do.” She took his hand and led him to the closest bedroom.

LILY stopped the car beside the sign that notified people they were about to run out of public road. Just ahead, the road swerved around a tall, stony outcrop, then ran straight for a half mile, right up to the gate to Clanhome. Rule leaned forward to squeeze her shoulder, then climbed out. Cullen got out, too. The van pulled in behind her, but Joel didn’t shut off its engine. Everyone but him piled out; Mike, Barnaby, Gray, and Ronnie headed off with Rule and Cullen into the brush. Scott joined Lily in the Mercedes. He sat in back with Friar and pulled out his knife to have it ready. Just in case.

The gate guards would have heard them coming, but with luck the van’s louder engine had hidden the sound of the Mercedes. The last turnoff before Clanhome was about four miles back, and people who’d missed it sometimes noticed the sign and turned around here. Joel would imitate them, turning the van around and heading back up the road for seven minutes. He’d then turn around again and drive back, timing his arrival for fifteen minutes from now.

Fifteen minutes had to be enough. The conjunction was only an hour and twenty minutes away. Lily settled herself to wait, her phone in one hand.

When they started making plans, it was immediately obvious that they didn’t know enough. Friar still wouldn’t tell them more than “turn left” or “go straight.” That had to change, but they also had to find out more about the situation at Clanhome. Any or all of its residents might be under Miriam’s control, and they didn’t know enough about how that worked. So they’d decided to grab a couple of Nokolai and find out.

The gate guards, to be specific. The gate was far enough from any of the houses that no one would see what happened there. There were always two guards there, one four-footed and one on two legs. The four-footed guard often patrolled along the fence, staying within hearing range of the gate so he could speed back if needed. He would have heard their cars, so if he wasn’t at the gate now, he soon would be.

It was really hard to subdue a wolf without hurting him. Lily didn’t know how Rule planned to handle that, but he and his men shouldn’t have a problem capturing the two-legged guard. When he had both of them, he’d call Lily. All she had to do was wait. And wait. And try not to keep checking her watch because that would make her crazy, but . . .

Her phone vibrated. She checked the screen, huffed out a sigh of relief, and started the car. “On my way,” she told him.

The gate was open. Rule stood near it. Gray and Barnaby held a blond young man named Cory whom she’d met a few times. Ronnie and Mike gripped the arms of the other man, whose name she couldn’t remember, though she’d seen him around Clanhome. Not as much of him as she was seeing now, though. He was naked.

Lily shut off the car and got out. “He was wolf when you arrived?”

Rule nodded. “I told him to Change. He did. He and Cory tell me that Pete called about an hour ago and told them that Clanhome was closed. No one was to be admitted, no exceptions—yet he didn’t give them an alert code. He also told them to call him immediately if you, Cullen, or I arrived.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Did he, now. What did you tell them?”

“Nothing yet, except that you’re going to check them for magic, and they are to hold still while you do.”

Better get it done, then. Lily went up to the naked guy first. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Gene.” He looked more puzzled by the odd behavior of his Lu Nuncio than upset.

She put her left hand on his bare shoulder. Fur-and-pine tingles . . . typical lupus magic. She checked his face in case this was one of those rare magics that localized, though the contagion hadn’t done that with Officer Crown. “Nothing.” She went to Cory and his two attendants.

Her first touch, on his arm, told her this magic didn’t localize. Ugh. She checked his face, just to see if that made a difference, then stepped back and gave Rule a nod. “Feels just like what was on Officer Crown, but he’s only got a smidgen of it.”

“I’ve got what?” Cory asked, confused and alarmed. “There’s something on me? Some kind of magic?”

“I’m afraid so,” Rule said. “Cullen?”

Cullen stepped close to Cory and walked around him, looking him up and down. Finally he made a square of his hands, using his magnifying spell to study Cory’s forehead. “It’s damn subtle,” he said at last. “I’d bet it gets brighter if she gives him an order—more power coming in then—or maybe if he’s carrying out an order. But right now there’s only a slight blurring over his brow chakra. Hard to spot without magnification.”

Damn. It would’ve been handy if Cullen could have checked people for compulsion from a distance.

“What is it?” Cory said, really worried now. “What’s wrong with me?”

Rule looked at him. “I’ll explain in a moment. Did Miriam Faircastle come to the gate tonight?”

“Yes. Around ten, maybe a little after. I could check the log.”

“Tell me what you both said and did.”

“She wanted to see Isen—something about an officer. ‘That poor officer,’ she said. So I called to ask. Isen gave permission and I told her to go straight ahead and the road would end at his house.”

Rule looked at the other man. “Gene? Is that what happened?”

“Yes, except that he left out the part about the weapons. And, uh, a bit of flirting. Miriam likes to flirt, and so does Cory.”

“I didn’t flirt with her,” Cory said, indignant. “And what weapons are you talking about?”

“You told her she had to either put her knife and gun in the trunk or leave them with you.”

It turned out that Gene hadn’t been at the gate when Miriam arrived, but on his way back to it. He hadn’t seen Miriam or her car, but he’d heard them talking. What he reported of that conversation didn’t match what Cory said. But according to Rule’s nose, Cory wasn’t lying. He truly didn’t remember some of the things Gene said.

Like being told a couple of times to forget things. That was part of what Gene had assumed was a flirtation. “What kind of flirty things did she say? At one point she told him he was a nice young man for wanting to help her out. I think she said he wanted to do anything possible to help her.”

“Do you remember that, Cory?” Rule asked.

“Yes.” Cory was pale.

“Do you remember Miriam asking where Lily and I were?”

Cory shook his head.

Miriam had asked about Grandmother and Cullen, too. Cory didn’t remember that. Then Rule questioned Gene about where he’d been when Miriam and Cory were talking. More than two hundred yards from the gate, Gene thought. He was sorry, but he couldn’t be more precise. Not more than three hundred yards, though. He was sure of that, because he hadn’t yet reached that abandoned rabbit burrow near the twisted pine.

Three hundred yards was close enough for lupus ears to hear every word spoken. It was not, apparently, close enough for the knife to make Gene obey Miriam’s order to “forget.” Not close enough to leave the taint of its compulsion on him.

Lily shot Rule a tight grin. The delay here had been very much worthwhile. “Three hundred yards. We can assume that’s the knife’s limit. It might be less, but we can work with that.”

“That’s important to know.” He paused. “She’s got Pete.”

That took her grin away. “And Isen, I suppose. And . . . everyone who was at Isen’s house when she got there.” Toby, Julia, Li Qin, Hardy, Carl, the guards who’d been stationed there . . . Cynna? Had she been there? Cory and Gene both said that Grandmother had left with Benedict and Arjenie before Miriam arrived, but Cynna might have still been at Isen’s house. With Ryder.

She glanced at Cullen. He looked as grim as she felt.

Rule spoke crisply. “However many she might have placed under compulsion, we’ve no reason to think she’s harmed anyone yet.”

He was doing that I’m-in-control thing with his voice to make Cullen and his men feel better. Damned if it didn’t work on her, too. “That’s true. And I’m betting she doesn’t have everyone under compulsion. Maybe not even most of them. If she did, wouldn’t she have had Cory kill or capture us instead of just giving Pete a heads-up? And logistically, it would be hard for her to get everyone together so she could put them under compulsion. Plus, it would take time, and she’s got a ritual to prepare for. If she’s using the more distant node, just getting there will take time. If she’s using the one behind Isen’s house, she’ll have to get rid of the deck.”

“If she’s using a ley line,” Cullen pointed out, “she won’t have those problems.”

“Yes, but . . . she went to Isen’s house.”

Rule nodded slowly. “She did, didn’t she? I find it interesting that Pete ordered Clanhome closed without giving an alert code. That’s standard. Omitting the code sounds as if he repeated what he’d been told to say.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“I’m not sure either, except that it sounds like he did what he was told to do, and not one bit more. He didn’t tell Miriam there was a code he was supposed to use.”

“So he has to obey, but that doesn’t really put him on her side?”

“I think so. In which case, a lot depends on the exact wording of the orders she gives.”

“Another thing we learned,” Cullen said. “The compulsion remains in effect after the knife’s gone. Cory’s still contaminated, and he doesn’t remember anything he was told to forget.”

“Ah.” Rule frowned. “Yes. We need to take that into account.”

“Rule?” That was Cory. “Can you tell me what’s going on now?”

“Miriam has gotten hold of an artifact. She used it to place compulsions on you. That’s why you don’t remember some things. She told you to forget, and you did. I’m sorry, Cory, but we’re going to have to tie you up for now. You’re subject to Miriam’s control. We can’t trust you.”

“But I wouldn’t do anything against you or the clan. I wouldn’t!”

“How do you feel about Miriam, Cory?”

“I want to help her in any way I can, of course, but . . .” Horror widened his eyes. “Why do I want that?” he whispered.

The answer was obvious to all of them. Gene got a length of rope from the back of the old truck they kept near the gate for the guards’ use. While he tied up his friend, Rule told Gene, “Stay here with Cory. You’re not to call Pete or obey any orders he gives you until Isen or I tell you it’s okay.”

Lily heard the van coming. “Our other ride’s nearly here. We need to decide if we’re going with plan A or plan B.” They’d laid out two general plans depending on where the knife was. She paused. “I’m betting on plan B. Miriam did go to Isen’s house.”

“Yes, she did.” Rule looked at his car. His smile was slow and cold. “I’ll have a word with Friar about that. I’ve an idea how to persuade him to talk.”