Mortal Ties (38 page)

“I guess it would be.”

“They didn’t smell quite right, though. They smelled human, but like they were all
the same human, so that helped. Plus the charms worked like they should for Rule and
Cullen, so they told us we were looking at elves, not kids.”

Jasper frowned, puzzled. “When did they tell you?”

“Oh, before we came in. Scott got here ahead of time and he reported to Rule, who
wanted to see for himself. Scott and Joe were on the roof, see, with a rope to let
them look in the window. Rule saw elves, not girls, so he had Chris and Ian stay with
Scott. He wanted wolves coming at them through the windows, see, and Chris and Ian
can Change really fast, almost as quick as Rule.” Regret entered his voice. “We were
maybe a little slow on the attack because of how they looked to us, but we’d have
had them. If they hadn’t had that big flash-bang, we’d have had them.”

Jasper digested that. Friar hadn’t been here at all. Some unknown elf had been talking
to him, wanting him to choose which girl got hurt. Only they weren’t girls. The glow
he’d seen hadn’t been a spell. They’d glowed because they were elves, and the not-Friar
elf hadn’t intended to harm them. He’d manipulated Jasper into offering to be hurt.

After a moment he said, “You call that a little slow?”

“Any hesitation in a fight can be deadly.” That was Rule. “Barnaby, can you walk on
that leg?”

“Not really,” Barnaby said apologetically. “I can hop on my other one, though.”

“Go see Cullen.”

Barnaby sighed and, from the sound of it, got up. Jasper realized the whiteout of
his vision wasn’t quite complete. At the edges it was turning gray and fuzzy. His
heart jumped. Maybe he wasn’t permanently blind. “Barnaby said the girls weren’t girls.
They were elves, but they all smelled the same.”

“Ah. Now that is interesting.”

“He also said you were shot.”

“So was he. Very few people can hit a rapidly moving
target, but with automatic weapons little aiming is required.”

“Especially if you run straight at them.”

“Which is why I had some of my men Change and come through the window. Wolves have
a way of commanding the attention of most people. Jasper, I’m trying to decide if
I should call this in.”

“Call it in?” Jasper blinked rapidly. The fuzziness at the edge of his vision was
spreading. Everything in the middle was blank, but he could see dim shapes at the
edges.

Amusement warmed Rule’s voice. “Lily’s jargon is contagious. Call the cops, I mean.
Probably her people, though it might be better to call Ruben and…” His voice trailed
off.

Funny how Jasper could feel the sudden tension in Rule even though he still couldn’t
see him. “What is it?”

“I can’t find her.” Rule’s voice was utterly flat. “I can feel Lily, but I don’t know
where she is.”

Cautiously Jasper asked, “Should you?”

Rule didn’t answer.

Jasper turned his head slightly so he wasn’t looking straight at Rule. It worked.
He saw Rule take out his phone. Dimly, fuzzily, but he could see his brother. Relief
swamped him so hugely that for a second he was afraid he’d cry.

Rule held his phone to his ear. Waited. Waited some more. Then snarled, clutching
the phone as if he wanted to throw it. “Scott!” His voice cracked out like a whip.
“Take those who aren’t mobile to the hotel. The rest of you, with me. Now.”

“Your shoulder—”

Rule growled. It was not a human sound. He turned and started for the door.
“Now.”

“I
T’S
like with my Find spell, then,” Cullen said. “You know she’s somewhere. You just
can’t tell where.”

“So I assumed.” The mate bond hadn’t broken. Rule kept repeating that mantra. The
bond hadn’t broken, so Lily was
still alive. Still alive
somewhere
…but he had no sense at all of where. The directional sense he’d grown so used to
was completely screwy.

He reached for his phone.

“No, dammit, hold still. Unless you think bleeding out will improve matters?”

Rule forced stillness on himself. It was not easy. His friend was driving a hot poker
into his shoulder.

And Lily was missing. And it was his fault.

They were in the backseat of the rented BMW. Joe was driving. Jasper sat beside him.
He’d insisted he was mobile, his vision was returning, and he would damn well go with
them. If nothing else, he could give directions. He knew the city, knew where Dingos
was. Chris and Alan followed in another car.

Cullen jabbed. Pain shot off the scale, a white-hot burst so acute it had to mean
he’d finally found the bullet. Rule hissed through his teeth. Sweat sprang up on his
face, his chest…and finally, finally, Cullen stopped.

“Got it.”

Rule took a moment to regain his breath. He’d told Cullen to skip the pain-blocking
spell, which drained both the caster and the recipient. Rule wanted nothing to slow
his healing, and he wanted Cullen to hang on to as much juice as possible. He might
need it. “Good. I need to call Ruben.” Rule used his left hand to reach for his phone.
His right would be useless for a while yet. His shoulder throbbed in blazing pulses.

“You need a sling.”

“Got one?” First Rule checked for calls or texts. He knew Lily hadn’t called him back.
He knew that, but he checked anyway. He’d called her twice. He’d also called Tony
and Todd and Mike. None of them had answered.

Cullen pulled his T-shirt off over his head. “I’ll improvise.”

“If—” The phone in Rule’s hand vibrated. He answered quickly. “Cynna—”

“I can’t do it.” She sounded weary and frustrated. “I’m sorry, Rule. I can’t come
there.”

If anyone could find Lily, it was Cynna. He needed her to come. Needed her to at least
try. She didn’t know Lily was missing. If he told her—

If he told her, she might well come anyway. Rule squeezed his eyes closed. He gave
up guarding his expression, his body, so he could make sure he had his voice under
control. “I see. I was wondering.…is it possible that your decision is based on information
I don’t have? Information, perhaps, you aren’t able to share with me?”

A long pulse of silence, then she said, “That’s an interesting idea.”

If the answer had been no, she would have said so.

He could change her mind. He was sure of it. He could tell her about Lily, and loyalty
and friendship would bring her here. Cynna would tell herself that whatever omen or
communication the Lady had given her wasn’t 100 percent. She’d come, determined to
Find Lily.

Rule would have rather had Cullen digging in his shoulder again than say what he said
next. “I see. Well, there’s an excellent chance you wouldn’t be able to find anything,
anyway. Cullen’s prototype is doing an excellent job of blocking that sort of thing.
We’re having a rather busy night, so I’m going to go now, but give Ryder a kiss for
me.”

“Will do. Rule, you know I’d have come if I could.”

“I know.” He disconnected before he could change his mind and beg her to come.

Cullen was watching him. “Thank you,” he said softly, so softly Jasper probably didn’t
hear. Then, more briskly, “What you told her might well be true. If the prototype
can screw up the, uh, thing that lets you know where Lily is, Cynna’s Gift might be
just as screwed. Here. Let’s get this on you.” He’d twisted his T-shirt into a sort
of rope that he tied behind Rule’s head. “I’m thinking it was too easy.”

“I haven’t noticed anything easy about tonight.” Rule used his left hand to ease his
right arm through the loop.

“How’s the length?” Cullen said.

“Forget the damn sling and explain what you mean.”

“After that damn elf tossed the magical flash-bang—”

“That was magic?” Jasper said.

Cullen nodded. “A-grade magic. Not that the bastard is on Rethna’s level, for which
I thank every god present and past, but he’s pretty damn good. What, did you think
they used a regular flash-bang?”

“I stopped thinking about the time the lot of you raced into that hail of bullets.
I thought everyone was dead—you, the girls, everyone.”

Rule had set his phone down to get the makeshift sling on. He picked it up again.
“You think the elves should have hung around to try to finish us off while we were
blinded?”

“Wouldn’t you?’ Cullen said. “But it seemed they only wanted to confuse us long enough
for them to get away. Which they did, dammit. Though I may have singed two or three
of them on their way out the window.”

“That’s the way a good thief reacts,” Jasper said. “If a job goes south, you don’t
hang around and duke it out.”

Rule selected Ruben’s number. “But Friar doesn’t think like a thief, does he? If that
had been Friar instead of an elf wearing his seeming, I suspect some of us would be
dead. So would several of them, but Friar has no objection to using up his people
to kill some of us.”

Cullen nodded. “So maybe the elf and Friar don’t have the same goal.”

“Or else the elf isn’t as cavalier as Friar about getting his people killed.”

“Or Friar isn’t part of this at all,” Cullen said slowly. “The elf could have been
using his seeming, his voice, all along.”

“No,” Jasper said. “That much I’m sure of. The person I met here tonight may not have
been Friar, but the guy who’s been calling me is.”

“How can you be sure?’ Cullen asked.

“Because I know Robert Friar. Or knew him—it’s been
awhile. But the man who called me when Adam first went missing knew things only Friar
would have known.”

Ruben wasn’t answering. The call went to voice mail. Rule scowled. It was the wee
hours of the night in D.C., but Ruben always answered this line. Always. Except tonight
he wasn’t…just like everyone else Rule called. He texted a terse message:
Lily is missing, probably taken. Magic involved. Call me.
And forced his attention back to what Jasper had said. “You already knew Friar? When
was this?”

“About three years ago,” Jasper said. “He and I met at a party given by a mutual friend,
and…this was before I met Adam, understand.”

Rule stared. “Are you saying that you and Robert Friar were lovers?”

“That’s not the best word for it.
Affair
doesn’t fit, either, because that implies a real connection.”

Cullen looked as dumfounded as Rule felt. “You hooked up with Robert Friar at a party.”

“It lasted about three weeks. I was coming off a difficult breakup and ripe for a
fling, but I sure as hell chose badly. I’m afraid,” Jasper added apologetically, “that’s
when he learned that you were my brother, Rule. I don’t remember how the subject came
up, but it did.”

Rule was turning this new puzzle piece over and over in his mind, trying to make it
fit. He’d done a great deal of research on Robert Friar. Nothing he’d learned suggested
this. Friar seemed to have a contempt for women, but he’d been enthusiastically hetero
all his life. And yet…“You’re saying that Friar is gay.”

“Bi, I think. There used to be a bit of controversy in the gay community about that,
and a few still don’t consider bisexuality authentic. They believe you’re either gay
or straight, and those who call themselves bisexual are fooling themselves. To me
that sounds too much like what the right-wingers think about homosexuality—that we’re
all fooling ourselves about being born this way, and they know better. If someone
identifies himself or herself as bi, that’s good enough for me.”

“Did Friar tell you that?’ Cullen demanded. “He said he was bisexual?”

“I don’t think he used the word. Does it matter?’

“It might.” Rule was getting a glimmering of an idea. “This was three years ago, you
said.”

“Roughly. Um…let’s see. He said he’d always preferred women, but had recently decided—or
maybe he said he’d been persuaded—to explore things ‘on the other side of the fence.’
I’m pretty sure that was the phrase he used. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Friar
is a liar from the soles of his feet to the tips of his hair, but that much may have
been true. There’s a certain…call it a beginner’s enthusiasm, only it has less to
do with experience than acceptance. When you first truly believe it’s okay to want
who you want, you get giddy, extravagant, excessive. It’s like falling in love, only
you’re in love with an entire sex. That’s hard to fake.”

“Rethna,” Cullen said.

Rule nodded slowly. Friar had been recruited by
her
just over three years ago. As part of his recruitment, he’d spent time in Rethna’s
realm. “Elves are often bisexual, you told me.”

“They’re bisexual, period. Whether that’s innate or a cultural norm to which they
all give lip service—pun intended—I can’t say, but they consider monosexuality downright
deviant.”

Rule felt a tingle of excitement, as if he’d found tracks left by his prey. Old tracks,
but they led somewhere. A bisexual Robert Friar was no more evil than the heterosexual
version, but Rule’s understanding of his enemy had shifted. “I told Lily once,” he
began. And stopped. Saying her name opened up the terror and rage, the primal need
that was ready to explode inside him.

His wolf wanted out. He wanted out
now.

For the space of three slow, careful breaths Rule rode the razor’s edge of Change.
Cullen—who would know, who would smell it on him—didn’t speak. Out of lucky instinct
or preoccupation, Jasper didn’t, either.

That was just as well, for where he was in that moment, words couldn’t reach.

Eventually the wolf subsided enough for him to find words useful again. He picked
up where he’d left off. “I told Lily once that I think sex is Friar’s weak point.
It is, of course, an avid interest for many and a twisted interest for some. With
Friar, I think sex is both of those, and more. I think sex defines and controls him.
Knowing that he’s bisexual matters. I don’t yet know how, but it matters.”

“If I helped, then good.” Jasper’s face was shadowed, lights from outside the car
playing across it. “Your eyes turned black a minute ago.”