Blood Challenge (37 page)

“Huh?” Cynna’s head jolted up from the headrest. “Oh—guess I did doze off. Happens all the time these days.” She twisted around to look at Lily. “I’d offer you a crossword puzzle book, too, but …”

“Since I can’t read in the dark, it wouldn’t be much of a distraction.”

Her arm itched horribly. Not on the wound, but between it and her elbow—a spot she could not possibly reach. The wound itself wasn’t hurting much. After talking to Benedict, Lily had asked Nettie to put her in sleep for a bit, knowing she needed to be as rested and alert as possible. Then they’d all eaten a light supper, then she’d stolen a few minutes alone with Rule, then he’d had to leave, then Isen did, then at last it had been time for her, Cullen, and Cynna to leave. So they could sit here. And wait.

Maybe she should have brought someone else with her. Cullen’s quasi-official status was a plus for her, but Rule might need him. Sure, Arjenie could sense wards, but she couldn’t see them or throw fire or fight or …

Did she really want to make herself crazy? Second-guessing everything was a great way to do that. She drummed on her thigh.

“What’s a nine-letter word for flawed?” the man in the front seat asked.

“Seabourne.”

“You’re good.” He flashed her a grin. “But not quite accurate. If we’re talking morals, then yes, that is sadly true. But if we’re talking sexual prowess and creativity—”

“Let’s not.”

Cynna chuckled. “He’s had to be creative, as big as I am now. The upside is that I’m really sensitive down there. The sensations get intense. It’s the one time I don’t fall asleep these days.”

“If talking about sex helps you pass the time …” Lily gave in and looked at her watch. “Never mind. It’s time.”

“Thank God.” Cullen tossed the magazine on the floor and reached for the key in the ignition. “Have I mentioned that I’m not a patient person?”

“Being a trained and careful observer, I’d already noticed that.”

At last they were moving, air streaming in through the windows. Lily wondered just how uncomfortable Rule was right now.

FORTY-THREE

RULE
hated the air underground. It was still and dead and there never seemed to be enough of it. The last, of course, was all in his head. He knew that, just as he knew it was being underground that got to him, not the quality of the air.

Didn’t matter. He still hated it.

At least that first, hellishly tight stretch was well behind them. And while Rule’s ribs ached, the pain wasn’t bad. Nettie had helped with that. And Arjenie was holding up well. She’d made it through the worst of the squeezes without a murmur of complaint. She wasn’t bothered by small spaces, she said.

Just bugs. Rule smiled slightly. Caves held more fauna than one might suspect—mostly creepy-crawlies. Arjenie’s Gift was a drawback there. She was drawing lightly on her power, just enough to be sure she’d sense a ward if they drew near one. That was more than enough to confuse vermin. A spider the size of Rule’s fist had failed to notice her even as it scampered over her foot.

Arjenie had certainly noticed the spider.

Otherwise, she was doing well for someone who claimed to be fearful. Oh, she was afraid—Rule smelled it on her—but what of it? So was he. So were they all, to varying degrees. Fear wasn’t the problem. What the mind did with that fear was. Arjenie was coping with her fear, and with the uneven footing and darkness.

Not that the blackness was absolute. Even lupi can’t see in the utter absence of light. Light made them too damn visible in this thick darkness, but they had to see. Aside from the literal pitfalls, like that crevice they’d passed earlier, they couldn’t risk getting lost down here. Earlier, Cullen had taught Arjenie the trick of making mage lights, and bobbing along with them were two faint globes of light. Very faint. Their hope was that anyone else down here would be using much brighter lights, which might blind them to such a dim glow.

So far it hadn’t mattered. Their route was clearly not used by Friar’s people. There was no trace of human scent … which, he told himself, was good. It did
not
mean they were wandering far afield, lost beneath the earth.

That was the sort of trick fear could play on the mind—creating scenarios and weighting them with too much likelihood. If Lily were here, he could have taken her hand and soothed his discomfort. He’d grown accustomed to that, hadn’t he? But he was glad she wasn’t here. For once she’d be away from the worst danger.

His wolf disagreed. Wolves hunted with their mates, and that part of him disapproved of going on this hunt without her. He could have kept her safe.

Good thing the man was in charge. Lily was in no shape for these rough, twisty tunnels. He glanced at his watch. Almost ten. He thought of his father—then shut that thought off. Concentrate on what he could affect, not what was outside his control. They had about two hours to find Brian and Dya and remove them before Lily would start down Friar’s tunnel.

Benedict lifted a hand in the universal signal to stop. Rule did, lifting his own hand to make sure those behind saw. They were drawn out single file at the moment because the walls along here varied from skin-scraping to narrow. Benedict first, then Arjenie, followed by Rule, Lucas, Sammy, and Paul, with José at their rear. Benedict had the lead because his ears were the best and he had an uncanny sense of direction. Arjenie had to be close to the front so she’d sense any wards—and her remarkable memory was a help, too. They’d all studied the 3-D map, and had brought printouts of its 2-D version, but Arjenie could recite their route, complete with depth notations.

Benedict had frozen, studying something ahead. He held up his hand again, emphasizing that they should stay put, and eased ahead until he was swallowed by darkness.

Rule saw nothing, heard nothing, for what seemed a very long time, but was probably five minutes. Finally his brother reemerged from the blackness ahead. Once Benedict reached them he made the signs for
trail
,
jump
, and
down
, paused, then added the sign for
water
.

Lucas tapped Rule’s arm. Rule leaned close and subvocalized. “There’s a drop-off ahead. And water.”

Benedict put his mouth next to Arjenie’s ear, no doubt telling her the same thing. Like Lucas, she didn’t know ASL. Rule wasn’t fluent in it, but everyone who trained under Benedict learned a few basics. Subvocalizing was useful if you were close enough, but with sign you could speak to the whole team without making a sound as long as you were in their visual range.

They continued single file, and within a few feet he picked up the damp scent of water. Rule’s heartbeat quickened in anticipation. There was a twenty-two-foot drop-off marked on the USGC map of their route. The map hadn’t indicated anything about water, but there were a number of things it didn’t include.

They’d chosen their route not because it was the quickest or shortest, but because there were fewer branchings where they could take a wrong turn. Since they’d passed the mouths of two tunnels that weren’t on the map, Rule wanted to conclude that the mapmakers had been less than thorough. The alternative would be that they were lost.

He hadn’t entirely convinced himself. If this drop-off was the expected twenty-two feet, he’d feel much more cheerful. It would also mean they were getting close to their destination.

That was a too-familiar spot. The last time Rule had been there he’d been a prisoner. So had Lily and Cullen. He’d watched his bother die, sacrificing himself for Rule. And Lily had fought and killed Helen. Oh, yes, he thought fiercely. He was very glad she wasn’t here. She didn’t need to revisit the place of her nightmares.

Benedict stopped and turned.

Rope
? Rule signed. At Benedict’s nod, Rule turned and signed to Sammy, who passed up the coil of rope he’d been carrying.

Rule moved close to Arjenie and whispered barely above a breath next to her ear. “Pull harder on your Gift and see if you sense anything below.”

She nodded, paused, then shook her head, mouthing a silent “no.” He nodded, gave her a smile, and moved to the edge.

This time, Rule would take the lead. They’d known that at least one point would require a climb, so had planned for it. Arjenie couldn’t fight, so she needed to be the last down, just in case. Once Rule reached the bottom and signaled, the rest would take turns belaying each other, leaving Benedict and Arjenie for last. Her skills did not include shimmying down a rope or rock climbing. If there was a place to tie off the rope, Benedict would use it to descend with Arjenie riding piggyback. If not, Benedict would lower her, and Rule and the rest would form a pyramid to catch her. Then Benedict would climb down.

That was assuming the drop wasn’t more than, say, twenty-two feet.

Lucas took the other end of the Rope as Rule lowered himself over the edge.

It would have been an easy descent if his ribs hadn’t been sore. As it was, he had no real difficulty. He simply hurt more than he liked. Arjenie sent one of the dim mage lights with him, which helped. The smell of water strengthened as he descended. Stagnant water, he decided. A pool of some sort … yes, he could see it dimly reflecting the mage light—a small pool in the center of a small rocky chamber. High ceiling, he noted with relief. Thirty feet or more.

The ground, when he reached it, was dry. That was good. Even better, his estimate for the descent was about twenty feet. Best of all, he saw light.

More accurately, he saw a patch of dimness rather than stark black at the mouth of a tunnel to his left, just where memory told him the map had shown it. He bent his attention to his ears, but didn’t hear anything. But what was that smell? Not airborne, he thought. The air remained deadly still. He crouched, lowering his face close to the ground.

Something warm-blooded had passed this way in the last week or so. Not a human, he thought, though in this form he couldn’t be sure. He straightened. Once the others were down, he’d have Sammy Change and see what he could learn. But now it was time to get them down. He tugged once on the rope.

One by one they came. No need to form a pyramid; once down, Sammy told Rule—subvocalizing—that Benedict had tied off the rope. As soon as those two were down, Rule signed
smell
and
Change
and pointed to Sammy. The young redhead had an excellent nose and could Change twice in a row without needing to rest.

A moment later, a tawny wolf stood on the empty clothes that had fallen to the ground when he blended himself into and through an unreal dimension. He shook his head once as if to clear it, then started sniffing at the ground. He took a step, then looked at Rule.

Track
, Rule signed.

Sammy nodded and padded silently around the pool, nose down, heading for the dim maw of the tunnel. He paused there, looking over his shoulder.

Rule held up a hand to stop him, about to sign
Change
. Vertigo struck like a hammer a split second before the darkness all around swarmed in and swallowed him.

ROBERT
Friar’s house was as large and unlikely as Lily remembered: two stories of wood and glass with a staggered veranda—God forbid you should call it a porch—three gables, and camera-ready landscaping. Lights were on inside, she noted as they pulled up in front, and the landscape lighting glowed discreetly, but he’d forgotten to leave the porch light on for callers.

Lily climbed out as soon as Cullen shut off the engine. Cynna’s door slammed on the other side, and Cullen climbed out on hers. As they started for the door, Lily half expected to see some of the militia types Friar had running around everywhere.

Sometimes half-assed expectations come true. A burly cliché in fatigues, complete with blond, buzz-cut hair and shoulder-slung AK-47, stepped off the porch. “Mr. Friar isn’t available right now.”

“Pity, but we’ll be going in anyway. Agent Lily Yu, Unit Twelve, FBI.” She held out her badge, and damned if he didn’t take it and study it. “I’d like to see your ID, also.”

“Looks genuine, but I’ve seen some good fakes.” He handed it back.

“You travel in interesting circles, Mr… .”

“Brewster, Calvin.” He reached in his back pocket. “I’m complying with your request for ID, Special Agent, but after that I have to ask you and your companions to leave.”

“Can’t do that.” She managed to brush his fingers as she took the driver’s license he pulled from his pocket. No tingle of magic. She handed the license to Cynna. “Jot down the number, would you?”

“Sure.” Cynna dug in her purse.

“The open gate gave you legal access to the property,” Calvin said, stony but polite. “But you have to leave when asked.”

“Not when I’ve got a search warrant.”

“I’ll need to see that.”

“Actually, you don’t. Robert Friar does. You aren’t Friar.”

“I’m responsible for the security of Mr. Friar’s place.”

“You a relative of Friar’s? A member of his household?” She shook her head. “The law’s funny, Calvin. If you’d been inside the house when we arrived, I’d have to show you the warrant. But you aren’t. I have no reason to believe you have access to the house, which means you have no right to see the warrant. Got to protect Mr. Friar’s privacy.”

His lips tightened into invisibility. He stepped back a grudging pace and pulled a phone from his shirt pocket. “Sergeant, I’ve got a situation here,” he said as Lily walked around him, with Cullen and Cynna right behind.

She rang the bell. Waited. Rang it again, adding a firm knock.

Nothing. No sound of footsteps, no television noise … “You hear anything inside?” she asked Cullen.

“Not even a mouse.”

She considered a moment. Glanced over her shoulder. Another militia guy was rounding the corner of the house, headed their way. She moved so that she blocked Cal’s view of Cullen, raising her voice slightly. “Odd that someone as security conscious as Mr. Friar would leave his front door ajar, isn’t it?”

Cullen grinned. “Damn weird, if you ask me.”

Cynna nodded. “Makes me think something’s wrong. We should check.”

Calvin spoke sharply. “That door’s closed and locked.”

“Was it closed earlier?” She turned to look at him. “Because it isn’t now. Is Mr. Friar in the habit of leaving his front door ajar?”

“It’s not—”

“Sure it is,” Cynna said. “See?” She gave the door a shove and it swung open.

And that was another reason Lily had wanted Cullen along. He was very good with locks. “Looks like you’re wrong, Calvin.”

“I’m going in with you.” He started toward her.

“Nope.” She moved to block him, giving Cullen and Cynna a chance to go in. “Same deal. Not a relative, not a member of the household, so you stay out here.”

“I’m going in with you.”

She cocked her head. “Those allergies give you a lot of trouble?”

“What the hell are you—”

“Gesundheit,” Cullen said, pointing at him.

Calvin sneezed. Sneezed again, and again—a paroxysm of sneezes that left him bent over.

It was Cullen’s newest trick, one he was quite proud of. He and Cynna had cooked up the spell together, but she had trouble executing it—something to do with the difference between runic charms and spoken spells. Lily grinned and slipped inside, locking the door behind her.

Her grin slid away. She listened a moment, then called out, “Mr. Friar? Special Agent Lily Yu here. I have a warrant to search your house and physically connected structures.”

No answer. She looked at Cullen. He shook his head. “Can’t hear a thing. Either he’s playing hide-and-seek, or he isn’t here. If he isn’t here, I bet I know where he is.”

So did she. Belowground someplace, either in his tunnel or at the node. Where Rule was headed. “Cynna?”

“Ready, set, go,” the taller woman said, and shook out her arms. “I warned you this could take awhile. If he’s warded the entrance to the tunnel, it’ll be hard for me to Find.”

“Understood.” Maybe Rule would be knocking on the other side of the tunnel’s entry before they found it. Maybe not. Either way, they had the best Finder on the planet looking for it. And while Cynna hunted her way, she and Cullen could try more common methods. Hands and eyes. “Let’s get started.”