Death Magic wotl-8

by Eileen Wilks

  “There are points involved,” Karonski said. “But don’t ever ask them how the points are figured. The scoring seems to change on a whim.”

  “Huh.” Lily frowned at her ring. Harry should not have been able to remove it without her feeling it move. He couldn’t have used magic on her, so how . . .

  Cullen breezed back into the kitchen “The runt’s gone? Good.”

  “Why do you dislike Harry?” Lily asked.

  “Because he’s a sneaky little bugger.”

  Rule said dryly, “Several years ago, before Cullen got those shields, a brownie snitched an old document he’d recently acquired. He wanted it back badly enough to pay the forfeit—which meant running around the block three times. Backward.”

  “The little bastards ran alongside me and laughed the whole time. I couldn’t see them, but I damn sure heard them.” Cullen sat at the table. “Sneaky little buggers, every one. Now, I’ve got to meet Fagin’s lawyer at the bank in an hour, so we have to be quick. And don’t give me a hard time about rushing off,” he told Lily. “If we’re really lucky, that grimoire will give me something solid about dopplegängers. What I’ve got is rumor and conjecture and not worth much. Oh, and you may be getting a call from a priest.”

  “A priest.”

  He nodded. “The one who married me and Cynna. Father Michaels. Cynna’s going to call him. It’s possible the Church knows something about dopplegängers.”

  “You discussed this with Cynna over the phone? I don’t like to be paranoid, but your phone could be tapped.”

  Rule spoke. “Cullen has a new spell that’s supposed to block anyone trying to listen in technologically. I have no idea how it works, but it’s tricky and requires physical components. Which I imagine is the real reason he made his calls in his room.”

  “Okay.” She looked at Cullen. “And you think the Church knows something about dopplegängers.”

  “Something, yes.” He shrugged. “The pope declared them anathema back in the sixteenth century and trained a special group of priests to banish them. That’s one reason the rumors about them never quite died out—the Church took them seriously.”

  “The sixteenth century was a long time ago. Surely this Father Michaels won’t know how to banish dopplegängers.”

  “No, but he’s got a mentor who’s pretty far up the ladder in the Jesuits. Those people know how to hang on to information—and secrets. If anyone has anything solid about dopplegängers, it’ll be them. The real question is whether Father Michaels can pry anything loose from his buddy.”

  “I’m going to have to go pretty soon, too,” Karonski said. “But I’ve got a question for Seabourne first.”

  “Shoot.”

  “If it was a dopplegänger that put the potion in Ruben’s coffee, does that mean we don’t have a traitor in the Bureau?”

  Lily’s heart jumped. She hadn’t thought of that.

  “Afraid not,” Cullen said, “if what little I think I know about dopplegängers turns out to be true. Dopplegängers are physical doubles, but they don’t get the mind and memories of the original. They have to be piloted or controlled, and the pilot has to be fairly close to the dopplegänger. I don’t know how close, but Ruben’s office is in a subbasement. Underground, in other words. Earth blocks mind-magic, so the pilot pretty much had to be on the same level as the dopplegänger to direct it.”

  Lily drummed her fingers on the table. “So making dopplegängers takes lots of power, which our perps are supplying with death magic. They’re made mostly of water, and they don’t have minds of their own—”

  “Hold off on the assuming. They don’t have the original’s mind and memories. Whether or not they can think, if they’re aware at all, I have no idea. A couple more things that all the accounts agree on. They’re temporary constructs. I don’t know how temporary, but it’s probably related to power. The more power poured into them, the longer they’d last.”

  That made sense. “And this amulet we’re assuming Rethna made. The thing that makes dopplegängers. It wouldn’t be a one-shot deal, would it? They can make more dopplegängers. But would they be more Idas and Rubens? Can they change the setting on the amulet to make dopplegängers of other people? Or do they have more than one amulet, with each one set to a specific dopplegänger?”

  Cullen frowned. “Hmm. I think the amulet could be reset each time it’s used. No, I think it would have to be. I suspect the amulet does the heavy lifting—the parts of the spell no one here would be able to handle. Whoever uses it supplies part of the spell, though—probably through a fairly simple ritual—as well as the blood or tissue from whoever they’re copying. The user would need to be Gifted and have some knowledge of spellwork. Not a lot, maybe, but some. I’m sure about the tissue and blood part,” he added. “That’s definitely part of the spell or ritual. The rest is guesswork.”

  Rule asked, “Would they need to do the ritual with the artifact at the same time they killed to create the death magic they need? Does it all happen in one location, all at the same time?”

  “The artifact would’ve been the focus of the death magic ritual, the place their leader directed the power. The ritual invoking the amulet could be done at any time after it was charged. If Rethna was an adept, we have to assume he could make an amulet that stored power well. The one real limit is on how long the dopplegängers last. No, there are two limits. First, our bad guy had to be in Headquarters, probably on Ruben’s floor, when he invoked it. Second, there’s timing. Unless you’ve got a constant power source—like ritually killing people every hour or something—any dopplegängers you make are going to be short-lived. Or so I think. I don’t—”

  His phone chimed. He took it out, glanced at it. “José says the rental car I sent for is out front. I’d better go. I have to drive the rental company guy back to their lot, wherever that is, before I head to the bank. You got so surly when I used yours last time,” he said, rising and slipping his phone back in his pocket. “I thought I’d better get my own wheels—on your dime, of course.”

  “Of course. You’re here on clan business.”

  Cullen grinned. “Who says I can’t be considerate? I was frugal, too, and passed on the Ferrari.”

  “You’ll take a guard with you.”

  Cullen stopped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Our enemies want you dead. You’re still injured. You do a good job of hiding it, but you are. You’ll take a guard with you.”

  Rule was using his mantle voice. Lily couldn’t feel it the way Cullen undoubtedly did. Cullen managed to argue anyway. “You don’t have enough guards here as it is.”

  “More are on the way. Leidolf, since they’re close. I called Alex this morning.” Rule had his phone out. He tapped the screen a few times. “José has assigned Steve to you. He’ll meet you out front.”

  Cullen rolled his eyes. “All right, but I drive. Oh. I almost forgot. I don’t know that it will help, but there’s one other thing you might need to know. The tissue or blood used to make a dopplegänger has to come from a living person. Or bumblebee, as the case may be.”

  “I don’t see how that’s significant,” Rule said.

  Cullen shrugged. “I don’t, either, but—”

  “I do.” Lily’s hands were cold. Her stomach was knotted. “I think I do.” She looked at Rule. “You remember I couldn’t figure out why I was put in that particular jail. Why was it suddenly best to get me locked up instead of killing me? It’s almost always easier to kill someone than to frame them. I couldn’t figure it out.”

  Rule didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The tightness in his face said he was following her very well.

  “That jail has a policy,” she went on. “Everyone—even those just in holding—are tested for HIV. They took blood from me.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  TWENTY minutes later, Cullen was gone, eager to get his hands on Fagin’s translation of the grimoire. Karonski was gone, too, after calling the jail to ask about Lily’s
blood sample. Surprise! No one could find it. He’d headed out to lean on them, see if he could find out who might have swiped it.

  Lily had asked Karonski a couple questions before he left. He didn’t remember what Drummond’s alibi was for the day of Ruben’s heart attack—they’d checked literally hundreds of alibis. He’d get that information to her, he said. Lily told him to hold off—she might have a faster way of getting it.

  Lily made a couple phone calls then. So did Rule. First he ordered lunch, then he called Arjenie back in California. He told her to set up access for Lily to the database, then handed her his phone. Lily told Arjenie what she needed her to find out.

  So after those twenty minutes passed, they were alone in the house—no Rhej, Isen, Cullen, Deborah, or Karonski. No one but the two of them.

  Made it easier to fight.

  “That makes no sense!” Lily took three quick paces away, turned, and glared at him. “I said I’d take a guard with me.”

  “I go with you. That’s not negotiable.” Rule’s face was closed up as tight as a vault. “You seem to be forgetting that I am in charge.”

  “I don’t believe you just said that.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to bank her temper. “At the moment, our enemies want me alive. What good would my dopplegänger do them if I was dead? Whatever my double is supposed to do, people would know it wasn’t me.”

  “Killers have been known to dispose of bodies.”

  It was hard to argue when he was right. She did her best. “Rule, we’ll get twice as much done if we split up.”

  “If you’re worried about efficiency, consider the fact that if your temper leads you to take off without me, I’d have to follow you. Taking two cars would certainly be inefficient.” The last was delivered with icy sarcasm.

  “Look. I get that you’ve been worried about me, but—”

  “Do you?” In two quick paces he was in front of her, his eyes blazing. He seized her arms. “Do you really have any idea? Because worried is a thin and puny word that would snap like a twig beneath the weight of my feelings.”

  Last month, Lily had discovered just how terrifying it could be to know, deep in her soul, that she could not keep those she loved safe. That death could strike at any moment, no matter how clever or strong or quick she might be. It had been a hard lesson . . . and she wasn’t a control freak of a Rho.

  She reached up and put both hands on Rule’s face. “Anyone can die,” she said softly. “In fact, with a very few weird exceptions, everyone does die. On any given day, there’s a chance you won’t make it, or I won’t, or my mother, or Cullen . . . the thing is, there’s every chance we will. We have to put our weight behind the second deal, not the first.”

  For a long moment he didn’t speak. Then he took one of her hands, folded the fingers gently into her palm, and held it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles one at a time, all five, including the one at the base of her thumb. “You are very wise.” His mouth crooked up. “And I am still going with you.”

  THEY went to Sjorensen’s apartment together.

  Karonski said that Anna Sjorensen had been put on administrative leave, just like Lily. He didn’t know how they’d learned it was Sjorensen who’d tipped Lily off about Ruben’s arrest—shoot, maybe she’d confessed—but she was in trouble, too. That pushed her to the bottom of Lily’s list of suspects, but she still wanted to talk to the woman. It would be good to know just how Sjorensen had learned about the impending arrest. “We still don’t know what they’re planning,” Rule said.

  Rule and Lily were in the backseat of the Mercedes with Scott at the wheel and Mark riding shotgun. José had decided that Scott could drive just fine with a broken arm, leaving the rest of them free to repel invaders or catch bullets in their teeth or whatever.

  Rule had already finished the two huge roast beef sandwiches he’d ordered for himself. Lily was still eating hers—grilled cheese made with havarti and cheddar on rye. The deli had great cheddar and didn’t stint on the pickles.

  Lily swallowed and slugged down some Diet Coke before answering. “We know they want to duplicate me. We know they can duplicate Ruben and Ida. We know they’re thinking big, since the end result if they win is lots of dead lupi and the country in chaos—martial law, riots, the president and vice president dead, the government splintered.”

  Rule went along with her by adding to her list. “We know they didn’t plan on Ruben turning lupus. We know they’re using death magic, which means there are bodies somewhere.” He glanced at her. “We know someone in the Bureau’s involved.”

  “Yeah.” She brooded on that a moment. “We’re pretty sure Parrott is, too. He’d be a suspect even if we didn’t know he’s tied in with Chittenden. First, he’s Gifted, and he hides it. Parrott could’ve been lying about Bixton knowing about his terrible taint. Or Bixton might have known, then found out Parrott hasn’t been staying on the wagon, magically speaking.” She flipped her hand. “Two birds, one stone. Take out Bixton and frame Ruben.”

  “Or Bixton could have learned something about Friar or Chittenden that made him dangerous to the movement.”

  “True. I wish I knew if Chittenden was Gifted. I’m betting yes, but we don’t know. It would help if we knew where he was.”

  “Unfortunately, my people lost track of him last week.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Which people—ghosts or lupi?”

  He smiled grimly. “Lupi, in this case, though they’re acting in accordance with Ruben’s plans. We’ve been keeping an eye on both Chittenden and Jones. Chittenden managed to slip away.”

  “Huh.” There’d been a lot going on she hadn’t known about, hadn’t there? She glanced at what was left of her lunch. “Anyone want the other half of my sandwich? I can’t eat the whole thing.”

  “I’ll take it,” Mark said.

  She passed it to him and took another sip of soda. Living with lupi meant never having to worry about wasted food or leftovers. She looked at Rule. “Anything else I should know?”

  “Perhaps.” He considered a moment, then said, “The president knows about Ruben’s visions.”

  She choked on a swallow of Diet Coke. “The what? She what?”

  “You knew she and Ruben have had a close working relationship.”

  Yes, but... “How much does she know?”

  “Nothing about the Shadow Unit specifically, but about the Great Enemy, Friar’s transformation . . . she has the basics. The White House has been quietly observing heightened security this past month.”

  “And no one’s noticed? There hasn’t been anything about heightened security in the news.”

  “She cancelled her visit to Mexico last week.”

  “Because of the vote coming up on—oh. You mean that wasn’t the real reason.” Lily chewed that over. “Congress doesn’t know any of this, do they?”

  “No. I’m not sure she’s told any of her cabinet. What could she say? That her pet psychic has had bad dreams?”

  “They’d freak. At least half of them would think she’d lost it. Someone would leak it to the press, and before you know it the whole country would be debating whether the president was non compos or if everyone should be buying guns and stocking their bomb shelters.”

  “And possibly getting rid of the Gifted in their midst.”

  Thereby doing part of the enemies’ work for them. “I guess Ruben didn’t have one of his hunches to not inform the president.”

  “He felt sure that was the right thing to do.”

  “Shit. I just thought of something. We don’t know if Ruben’s still a precog, do we? I mean, normally lupi don’t have Gifts. Cullen does, but he’s the exception. I should’ve touched Ruben before the two of you took off.”

  “You’d have lost a hand,” Rule said dryly, “so I’m glad you didn’t try. I suspect Ruben’s still a precog, but you’re right, we don’t know for sure. And I hadn’t thought of that until you mentioned it.”

  He didn’t look happy to have
thought of it now. “I guess we’ll find out. Do you—” Her phone cheeped like a baby bird. She grimaced. When she first heard the ring tone she thought it was cute, but it was already driving her crazy. She took it out and checked the number. It was the Etorri Rhej. Lily had left a message for her while they waited on lunch. “This is Lily.”

  “Hi, Lily. I was so sorry to hear about your recent trouble.”

  “Geez, that was on the news up in Canada?” She couldn’t believe her arrest had made even the national news, much less gone international.

  A moment of silence. “No, I heard about it from others in the clan. Is your arm improving?”

  Oh. Right. She was talking about the shooting. It made Lily want to laugh or groan. That news was a whole month old, and plenty of new troubles had replaced it. “It’s healed really well. There’s more to the story, but I’m pressed for time. Can I owe you the details for now?”

  “Sure. Your message said something about a ghost that’s been bothering you.”

  Like all the Rhejes, the Etorri Rhej was Gifted. She was a medium—a powerful one—plus she knew a lot about ghosts and death and all that, and was able to put it in language that mostly made sense. “Not bothering me exactly, but I have some questions. Killing people to make death magic tends to throw ghosts, right?” It had to do with what the Rhej called transitioning and the power involved in that process. Lily didn’t really want to hear the explanation again, so she hurried on. “That may be where my ghost came from, plus there’ve been other ghosts seen in the city recently. And I know someone’s been making death magic.”

  “Ugh. Nasty stuff.”

  “It is. There may be a lot of it involved, too, so—”

  “How much?”

  “Ah—I don’t know how to quantify it.”

  “I see your point. I asked because . . . well, mediumship runs in my family, and has for a very long time. Mothers and grandmothers have passed down the Gift, the lore, and the stories for many generations. When you talked about a lot of death magic, I thought of one of the oldest stories. This would have been pre-Purge, probably by several hundred years.”