Mortal Ties (37 page)

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.”

L
ILY
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 T
OPLESS
! in red. Below that, in smaller letters, it said D
INGOS
. 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…

T
HEY
came through the double doors in twos—four men in dark jeans and dark shirts with
expressions to match. They were fit and dangerous and beautiful.

“Stop,” Friar said, and they did.

Jasper’s not-quite-human brother wasn’t the tallest or the most beautiful. The dark-skinned
man on his left was six-five, and Cullen Seabourne had probably been the most beautiful
person in the room all his life. But Rule was the center. He held the others in place
with one quick gesture while his eyes swept the room—pausing on Friar, then on Jasper,
lingering briefly on each of the girls.

Jasper saw his throat move. Maybe he was swallowing the same terrible frustration
and horror Jasper felt.

Too far. He was too far away.

The girl nearest the lupi—nearest, yet yards and yards too distant—whimpered. One
of the thugs had her by her hair, holding her head up to expose her throat. He held
a knife to it.

“I’m disappointed,” Friar said in his silkiest voice. “Where’s the lovely Lily?”

“She couldn’t make it.” Rule looked at the man on his
left, then the two on his right. He didn’t speak or signal with his hands, but the
glance must have meant something. The tallest one’s eyes widened. He returned his
gaze to Friar, his expression giving away nothing. “What did you have in mind, Robert?”

“Why, an exchange, just as I said.”

“Adam King isn’t here.”

“No, he’ll remain my guest awhile longer. Jasper will join him. They’ve been pining
for each other—I’m quite looking forward to reuniting them. But you’ll still make
the exchange, I’m sure, given the terms. You’ll give me Cullen Seabourne. In return,
I won’t kill any of the pretty girls here.”

Rule was silent for several heartbeats. Then he smiled slowly, a smile as hard and
pure and cold as Arctic ice. “What pretty girls?” he said. And shouted,
“Go!”

A great many things happened in the first two seconds.

The lupi charged, flowing forward across that shiny floor absurdly fast. Glass shattered
up high. The thug with the knife dropped it and reached for his gun. The one with
the gun swung it toward the racing lupi and deafening sound crashed and ricocheted
through the gymnasium. Four enormous wolves leaped off the bleachers—the windows,
they must have come through the windows!—and if Jasper had thought the men were fast,
the wolves were unbelievable. In the next second they would—

Beside him, Friar shouted something over the bestial roar of the guns.

All six girls sprang to their feet brandishing wicked-long knives—and flung their
free arms over their eyes.

The sun exploded right there in Hammond Middle School’s gymnasium.

Jasper’s eyes squeezed closed, but he still saw light—searing, intolerable brightness.
His eyes streamed. He gulped and gasped and realized there was no heat. No heat, only
that terrible brightness.

He heard screams. Screams, not gunfire, and the meaty thud of fighting. He forced
his eyelids to lift, but he couldn’t see anything. Blind. He’d been blinded, and oh
God—

“Hold still,” Rule’s voice said right next to his ear. He felt Rule’s hand on his,
still bound behind his back. A second later his hands parted. They tingled and stung
and he brought them to his face with the duct tape still tight on his wrists, but
severed. “I can’t see.”

“Nor can I,” his brother said, and shoved him out of the chair.

He landed heavily on his side, and now there was heat—the fiery breath of a furnace.

“Goddamn elves!” someone shouted.

“Cullen!” Rule roared. “Your fire’s too damn close!”

“That wasn’t mine!”

“Shit,” Rule said, and rolled on top of Jasper, covering him with his body.

“They’re getting away,” Seabourne cried. “Out the window, I think—take that, you slimy,
pointy-eared bastards!”

Then it was silent. Almost silent. Jasper heard breathing—his, Rule’s, and was that
the panting of a wolf nearby? He felt Rule shift. “My vision’s coming back,” Rule
said.

“Mine’s not,” Cullen said sourly.

“What were you throwing fire at if you couldn’t see?”

“Elves. Goddamn elves glow plenty bright to my other sight. They’re gone,” he added.

“Yes,” Rule said, and rolled off Jasper. “They left their two gunmen behind, however.
Or their bodies. Can anyone else see yet?”

“I can, a little,” someone said.

“Good. See if the gunmen are dead. Jasper, I have to check on Ian. He’s down.”

Jasper blinked his streaming eyes, still seeing only the afterimage of that intolerable
brightness, and sat up. He heard movement from several directions. “This one’s dead,”
a voice said. Then there was the low whine of an animal in pain.

A moment later Rule spoke. “Ian’s alive, but they took his front left leg off. I’ve
tied it off. Cullen, I need you.”

A voice announced that the “other one” was still alive,
and did Rule want him to stay that way? Rule told him yes. More sounds of movement.
Cullen said, “Damn elves. No, I can see well enough now. I’m going to cauterize the
stump. I’ll put the no-pain spell on first, but I can’t leave it on, Ian. You know
that. It’s going to hurt like a mother in a minute.”

Someone came over to Jasper. “Is that your blood or Rule’s?”

“I…” Jasper touched the front of his shirt, just now realizing it was damp. “It’s
not mine. Is Rule hurt?”

“Took a bullet in the shoulder, looks like,” the voice said cheerfully. “That’s not
too bad,” he added a moment later, maybe in reaction to Jasper’s expression. “If the
bullet didn’t go through he’ll have to have it dug out, but there’re a lot worse places
to get shot.”

“I guess so.” Rule had been wounded when he covered Jasper with his body, shielding
him. Jasper passed a shaky hand over his face.

“You still can’t see?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know who I’m talking to. Maybe I should know your voice,
but I don’t.”

“Oh, sure. You only heard me that once in the stairwell, and you can’t identify us
by smell. I’m Barnaby.”

“Barnaby, what in the hell just happened? Those girls—”

“They weren’t girls. At least not human ones. Some of them might have been female—I
mostly saw what you did, so I can’t say for sure. But they were elves. So was Friar.
The one who looked like him, I mean.”

“Elves.”

“Yeah. Rule had an idea we might run into one elf. He wasn’t expecting a whole fistful,
but he had us wear these charms, just in case. They’re Nokolai work, though, so they
didn’t work great for us. They did help some. The elves looked like girls to me, but
in a wavery way, like they weren’t quite in focus. It’s hard to attack someone who
looks like a young girl,” he added, “even if you know she isn’t. Even if the image
is kind of wavery, it’s hard.”