Blood Lines (46 page)

“Why did you attack me?” Cullen asked.

“Why do you think? You’re a sorcerer. I hoped to bring you back with me and avoid . . . all this. Had I been able to do so before the second shifting, when Tommy gained so much power . . . but I failed. You fought me off.”

“Your demon defeated four lupi, one human, and . . . another fighter today,” Rule said. “Why do you need us?”

“Tommy’s warded his place against demons. Tish can’t get through, and I can’t get in by myself without setting off alarms. I hope your sorcerer will be able to undo the wards. And—and you and I have something in common.” She drew a shaky breath. “He holds my daughter hostage. That’s the other part of my price. I want you to get her away from him.”

THIRTY-SIX

RULE
inhaled deeply, his head cocked, testing the air for scents, listening. He’d moved all of them back down the path, far enough away that they could discuss Jiri’s demand without being overheard by Jiri and the demon.

The air was chill yet rich with smells; it was almost like being four-legged, his senses were so keen. And the power . . . a bit intoxicating. His power hadn’t doubled with the addition of a second heir’s portion, it had tripled, or more.

His mind had almost broken when Victor tried to force the mantle on him. Even after the Rhej shoved much of it back into Victor, he’d hovered in some gray place, his mind dull and confused. But once the two heirs’ portions were balanced . . .

Balanced, but not restful. They jostled still inside him, same and yet not the same. The Leidolf portion felt alien, as if he’d woken up with a third hand sprouting from his elbow. Still, unlike the clans they belonged to, the mantles seemed able to coexist.

“I’m accepting Jiri’s terms,” he said abruptly, “unless someone has a very good reason not to.”

Lily shook her head. “We can’t just go kill someone.”

This was hard for her. Her culture, training, and profession opposed acting outside the law. “I believe her. I think Cordoba is summoning demons, working with Her to destroy my people. I agree that we have to be sure, but if he is, I don’t think he’ll let you put him under arrest.”

“Being sure means gathering evidence, putting the case before a jury.”

“And Toby?” He gave her a chance to answer. She didn’t. “I’ll go where Jiri sends me, but look before I leap.”

“Or bite, or shoot.” Cullen was striving for cocky. “I’m in, of course. But Cynna stays here.”

Lily’s eyebrows snapped down. “Have you morphed into a chauvinist pig?”

Cullen didn’t answer. He was watching Cynna, his eyes hooded.

“Forget it,” Cynna said. “I’m needed, and I’m not . . . you’ve got to get that idea out of your head.”

“What idea?” Lily demanded.

“Oh, hell.” Cynna hunched one shoulder impatiently. “He told Rule. You might as well know, too. Cullen has decided that, modern pharmaceuticals to the contrary, he got me pregnant.”

Lily’s jaw dropped. She closed her mouth, then opened it to speak, but Cynna talked right over her. “I don’t know if he tells every woman that, or if I showed up at the peak of his lunatic cycle, but—”

“Cynna.” Lily cut in sharply, then gentled her voice. “They know. Lupi know if a woman they’ve been with conceives.”

“Maybe they do sometimes. This time, he’s wrong.”

Had she been this stubborn when they were lovers thirteen years ago? Rule only had to ask himself the question to have the answer: yes, every inch as stubborn. And just as wrongheaded at times. “We can’t discuss this now. If Cynna is willing to go—”

Cullen rounded on him. “Goddammit, Rule!”

“It’s her decision,” he said softly. “You know it has to be her decision.”

Cullen looked ready to burn something or someone. But he knew clan law—necessary because the temptation was so keen. Nokolai had been the first to make it criminal for a lupus to constrain a woman who carried his child, but most of the other clans had followed. Persuasion was fine, but the woman’s life, her choices, had to remain in her hands.

Cullen turned away, paced a few steps, paced back. He didn’t say anything, but Rule could see he had himself under control again.

Cynna scowled at all of them. “If all that means I get to choose—damned right I do. And I’m in.”

“You can bind Jiri to what we agree on?”

She nodded grimly.

“Lily?”

She took longer than he liked, but at last she nodded. “I reserve the right to arrest him, if it’s feasible.”

“Then we’ll give her our answer.”

Jiri waited at the bridge, motionless and tense. A proud woman, he thought. Too proud to ask for help, to surrender that much control—and that pride had cost two men their lives. But if Cordoba held her daughter, her need was desperate. He thought she’d been honest about some things, at least. He’d smelled her fear when she spoke of her daughter being held by Cordoba, its acrid odor mingling with her own scent. Odd, that. She didn’t smell like a demon, but she wasn’t entirely human, either.

“You’ve decided,” she said.

Rule stepped out of the shadows beneath the trees. “We will go after Cordoba and return your child to you—if she’s there, as you’ve said. And if she is your child.”

The tension remained. “Tonight. It must be tonight.”

He shook his head. “We need time to plan. And,” he added bitterly, “you’ve killed or wounded all of my trained fighters on this coast. With airplane travel undependable, it will take a few days to gather an attack force.”

“It has to be tonight,” she repeated. “Tommy gave me an ultimatum. Either I bind myself to him and the Bitch Goddess by tomorrow at midnight, or he . . .” She swallowed. “What little humanity he retains has much in common with Henry Lee Lucas or the BTK killer. If you won’t rescue my daughter tonight, I’ll go there now and bind myself to him and free my daughter that way. And Tommy won’t care if your son ever wakes up.”

Rule held himself still. He had to. The fury that swept through him at the threat to Toby carried him too close to an edge he couldn’t afford to cross. After a moment he managed to speak evenly. “Cordoba will be expecting you to act tonight. He’ll be doubly on guard.”

She shrugged. “It can’t be helped. If your sorcerer had been a bit less clever, I wouldn’t have had to wait until the last minute.”

“Or kill two men, wound others, and enspell my son.” His rage was ebbing, but the strength and suddenness with which it had hit bothered him. This was not the time to lose control. “Very well. I will accept your terms if you will bind yourself to mine. You’ll swear to release Toby from your spell whether I succeed or not.”

Her lips quirked up, but the smile came nowhere near her eyes. “Cynna’s been telling all my secrets, hasn’t she? All right.”

“
YOU’VE
lost it,” Lily said flatly. “You can’t mean to—”

“I can. I have to.” They were in the Suburban, which Rule had started to get the heater going. He wasn’t cold, but he knew Lily was.

After Cynna had performed the binding, Jiri had given him a computer disk with maps and the architect’s plans for Cordoba’s place at the northernmost end of the North Carolina shore. She planned to meet them there but she wouldn’t travel with them or give them her phone number. Instead she would call Lily again at midnight to find out how they planned to storm a place guarded by demons.

When they reached the Suburban he’d filled the others in on what he intended to do, knowing Lily wouldn’t like it.

“Is it even possible?” Cynna asked, obviously dubious.

Cullen answered for him. “Possible, yes. Likely?” He shook his head. “Rule, I don’t want to argue, but—”

“Then don’t.” He took a deep breath, held it a moment before letting it out. His temper was unsteady. “According to Jiri, Cordoba has at least four of the red-eyes and several smaller demons at his place, plus four of the Azá. We need more fighters.”

“The idea,” Lily said with strained patience, “is to bring people along who try to kill the other guy, not you. There must be some Nokolai on this coast.”

“They’re not trained. An untrained lupus will do well against a few humans. Against demons, he’s cannon fodder.”

“Then we go it on our own. Cullen’s mage fire—”

“Sorry,” Cullen said. “Much as I’d like to agree with you, I don’t have an unlimited supply. And it’s hard to control well enough to use in hand-to-hand. I tend to burn up the good guys along with the bad.”

Lily had a scar on her stomach from mage fire Cullen hadn’t fully controlled. She didn’t speak again until Rule pulled out of the parking lot. “I hate this. I really, really hate this.”

So did he. He was going to need every bit of power from the two heirs’ portions he carried.

The only clan close enough for him to call on for help was Leidolf.

THIRTY-SEVEN

THE
moon was high when they pulled into the parking lot across from the Nutley courthouse. The location was Cullen’s suggestion. It was neutral ground and open enough to discourage ambush on either side.

It was nearly two A.M. They’d made good time, but they’d had a couple of stops to make before leaving D.C.; first at the house for Lily’s laptop and a few items from Benedict’s arsenal, then to the hospital to check on Toby and get Benedict’s help.

Benedict was rarely openly angry, but when he realized he couldn’t come with them—they couldn’t leave Toby unprotected—he cursed for two minutes solid. Then he sat down, studied the documents on Jiri’s disk, and came up with a plan of attack.

There was only one other car in the courthouse parking lot. Rule’s Mercedes. Alex Thibodaux and four other men waited beside it. One of them was Brady.

Brady had not been part of his arrangement with Alex. Rule parked and got out slowly. Cynna and Lily got out on the other side but followed instructions, saying nothing.

“You have a reason for bringing
him
to this meeting?” Rule nodded at Brady.

“He was Randall’s brother,” Alex said. “If the story you tell is true, he has a right to be in on the kill.”

Rule had told Alex nearly everything when he called to set up this meeting. The Leidolf Rho was still deeply unconscious, unable to make decisions for the clan, which was one piece of luck. Victor would have found a way to turn this into a death trap for Rule. He didn’t think Alex would, if he handled things right.

If he handled the mantle right, to be specific.

Rule seldom invoked the heir’s portion of Nokolai’s mantle. He didn’t need to. The clan respected him, and they felt the mantle’s presence even when it rested quietly within him. But he knew how. He knew, too, that once invoked, the mantle wouldn’t let him leave what he began unfinished. That was its nature.

Lily, Cullen, and Cynna ranged themselves behind Rule, staying several feet back. Cullen knew what to do and, more to the point, what not to do. Lily and Cynna had promised not to interfere, but Rule wasn’t sure he could depend on Lily’s word if things went badly.

He’d have to make sure they didn’t.

Alex straightened, his arms at his side, his face expressionless. “Why are you here, Nokolai?”

Rule reached inside with his attention, touching the more restless of the two mantles. Power flexed within him like a wild thing waking—flexed and rose, sending a physical rush through his body. And unbidden, the familiar mantle came roaring up, too, mingling with the new one, the twinned magics making every hair on his body bristle as the night turned sharp and achingly brilliant.

That wasn’t part of the plan—but oh, the heady rhythm of it, like the moon’s own song, but utterly physical. And his. His. It sang within him, the certain knowledge that he could not be defeated.

Not that the mantles bestowed invulnerability or some illusion of it. He knew he could die tonight. His plans could fail; he could meet with disaster. But neither death nor disaster was defeat to the mantles.

He walked up to Alex. The air was thick with
seru
, the scent of aggression and dominance. “I come, Alex Thibodaux, as heir of your clan while the Rho is incapacitated, unable to lead. I come to command you.”

He sensed more than saw Brady’s movement—and that the men on either side of him held him back. He ignored them. Brady was no threat at this moment. Everything depended on Alex.