Blood Magic

by Eileen Wilks

  “At the moment, the treaty is controlling more of you than your speech. You’re like an animal trying to chew off its leg to escape a trap. You’re reacting, not thinking.”

  “I’m thinking just fine. I think I hate misleading Ruben.”

  “Ruben is a good man, but he acts for the government. If Sam’s actions indirectly cause a separate power—a governing body—to move against the Chimei, that’s likely to break the treaty. “

  “I act for the damned government, too.”

  “And you weren’t allowed to speak to Ruben. To bring that government in on this.” He let that sink in a moment. “You can’t tolerate having something imposed on you. I understand that. Sam understands even better, I’m sure, but he’s had time to adjust. He doesn’t allow his rage to dominate his thinking.”

  “His what?” She shook her head. “Sam was fine. Cool and collected as always.”

  “He doesn’t allow his emotions to impinge on his mindspeech. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist. This treaty binds him even more tightly than it does you. How do you suppose the most sovereign race in existence feels about being constrained?”

  Her fingers tapped on her thigh. She frowned off into space.

  They were well back into town and traffic now. He gave her the silence to think through what he’d said for a few more blocks, then said, “This body you need to see. Why did the tip come from a deputy? Is it a county case?”

  “Hmm? Oh. No, but Cody heard about it. He used to be city, plus he’s second generation on the job. He’s got a lot of friends in the PD still.” She grimaced. “More than I do, apparently, since it was him—”

  Her phone sounded. He recognized this ringtone, too—the theme from Alien versus Predator—and knew whom it belonged to.

  Lily frowned at her lap, where the phone still rested. Sighed. And picked it up. “Hello, Mother. Thanks for calling me back.”

  “Of course I called you back. You said it was important. He hasn’t backed out, has he? Changed his mind?”

  The blank look on Lily’s face made Rule grin in spite of everything. “Who?”

  “Rule, of course! Who else would I mean? Is he getting cold feet? Did you have a fight? If so, well, you leave it to me. He and I are supposed to meet tomorrow to discuss the location for the ceremony. I’ll make it clear your family expects him to—”

  “No. No, Mother, this isn’t about Rule, who is firmly committed to getting married. No cold feet. I understand Grandmother gave you a charm.”

  “You called about that? Eh! It’s an odd little thing, a little black dangle on a chain. Very shimmery, like an opal, and pretty, but odd. Have you seen it? I never had, not until she gave it to me. Though she didn’t precisely give it to me. She told me it was rare and valuable and I was to wear it at all times. Of course she couldn’t just give it to me—she had to issue instructions. I’m not sure she considers it mine. You know how your grandmother is. She may think of it as a loan. You are sure Rule isn’t going to back out?’

  “I’m sure. When did she give it to you? Or tell you to wear it,” Lily added hastily. “When was that?”

  “The day before yesterday, I think. Yes, that’s it, because I was about to go to see your Aunt Mequi, but of course your grandmother just dropped by without calling first, so I had to call Mequi and tell her I would be late.”

  “Are you wearing the charm now?”

  “Now? I’m wearing my rose dress. You know the one I mean, with the white trim. That necklace would look very odd with this dress.”

  “You aren’t wearing it.”

  “The charm is black, Lily. An odd sort of black, because it has other colors in it, but still, black would not go with my rose dress. Don’t worry, though. I’ve put it up safely. I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to one of Grandmother’s treasures.”

  Lily took a breath, let it out. “It’s vital that you wear the charm all the time. There’s some—some bad magic stuff going on. Grandmother gave you the charm to protect you. Father and me and the girls are protected because we’re related by blood to Grandmother. You aren’t.”

  “That does not make sense. Your grandmother must be pulling your leg, telling you stories. She tried to tell me something of that sort, too—something about the charm having great magic. But if so, why have I never seen her wear it? If it were a powerful talisman, she would wear it. You are too credulous, Lily. You know how she is.”

  “Mother, please, I need you to believe me. Just this once, and even though I can’t prove it, I need you to believe that your life could depend on wearing that charm.”

  There was a brief silence, then: “You’re very serious about this.”

  “Completely.”

  “Oh, very well. You will have lunch with me on Monday so we can decide about your wedding dress, and I will wear the silly charm. I suppose it will go with something in my wardrobe. I’ll have to change clothes, but I’m willing to do that.”

  Lily exhaled in relief. “Thank you, Mother. I know this seems odd, but it’s extremely important. But, uh, about Monday—”

  “We must make some decisions about your gown, Lily. You can’t buy something off the rack. It will have to be ordered, and there will be alterations. All this takes time.”

  “Maybe I could do it a week from Monday. I think I could do it then.”

  “Then I will begin wearing the charm a week from now.”

  “You can’t! You can’t put your life at risk just to blackmail me into doing—”

  “Then I will see you on Monday. This Monday. We will meet at your Uncle Chen’s place at noon. I know you like his orange chicken.”

  “But—”

  “Monday, Lily.”

  Lily’s eyes squeezed closed. Her voice sounded tight, too. “Monday. Noon. Uncle Chen’s.”

  “Good. It will be fun, you’ll see. I have to go now, since I must change clothes. Black slacks, I think. They’ll go with the charm, and I have a pair that isn’t too heavy for summer.” With that, Julia Yu gave her daughter a cheerful goodbye and disconnected.

  Lily’s hand fell to her lap. She shook her head. “How did that just happen? How does she do that? One minute I’m trying to stop a demon from taking over the city. The next I’m agreeing to have lunch with my mother so we can talk about wedding dresses. Wedding dresses,” she repeated, as if this were the most trivial thing in the known universe.

  “The dress matters to most women,” he said mildly. “Clearly it matters to your mother.”

  “It’s not her wedding. It’s mine, and . . .” Lily scowled. “What am I doing? I’m arguing with her now that I’m not talking to her. I hate it when I do that. And what do you mean, it matters to most women? It matters to me, too. Just not now.”

  They’d reached the complex of county buildings which included the Medical Examiner’s office. Rule slowed. “You were putting off making these decisions even when there was no Chimei in the picture. You don’t want to set a date. You don’t care where the ceremony is held. My ring isn’t even on your finger. It’s under your clothes. Hidden.”

  “Because we haven’t made the big press announcement yet, and you wanted to keep it secret until then so you could spin things your way.”

  “I’m ready to make that announcement. I’ve been ready. You keep finding other priorities.”

  “Now? You want to do it now? Sure, let’s hold a press conference. It won’t interfere with stopping the Chimei all that much.”

  “You’re missing the bloody point. You feel about marriage somewhat the way you did about the mate bond when it first hit. The way you do about the treaty geas. You feel it binds you, robs you of choice.”

  “I do not! God, where is all this coming from?”

  “You need to find out why you want to marry me. I had to come to my own understanding of marriage. I know why I want this. Why I want your ring on my finger, and mine on yours.”

  “I agreed because I love you, you damned idiot!”

  “You do, yes, bu
t you agreed to marry me because I pushed.” He’d known that at the time. He didn’t regret it. But he still hit the brakes harder than necessary as he pulled into a parking space at the back of the visitors’ parking lot. “You agreed because marriage is what you’re expected to do. You don’t have a clue why you want it for yourself.”

  “Thanks for the psychoanalysis. If you’re through—”

  “Not quite. You aren’t comfortable without reasons, without knowing the what, when, and why of things. You need to figure out why you’re marrying me.”

  “Sure. Fine. In my spare time, in between saving the city and wringing your neck, I’ll figure that out and get back to you about it.” She threw the door open and grabbed her laptop. “I’m getting another car, and it’s more efficient for us to split up, so you don’t have to hang around.”

  He knew when he’d been dismissed. It infuriated him. He’d meant to stay with her. She’d intended that, too. But maybe they’d best cool down separately. “Fine. I’ll be at the hospital. I need to arrange for Cullen to be moved.”

  “Right.” She slammed the door.

  Rule pulled out of the parking space without screeching the tires. He allowed himself one long glance at the front of the parking lot, where a burly, dark-skinned man in khakis leaned against a sheriff’s car.

  Deputy Cody Beck.

  Rule did not stamp down on the accelerator when he left the parking lot. He was not a hormonally impaired adolescent.

  But he wanted to.

  TWENTY-TWO

  HE was calling himself Johnny Deng these days. He liked the juxtaposition of East and West, and Johnny was a friendly name, much more so than John. He considered himself a friendly man.

  Over the years he had had many names. He often used one of the characters from his original name in some form, for it is good to remember one’s roots. Often, but not always. His current surname spoke of those origins only in the most general way.

  At times he missed China, but it wasn’t the China of today he missed, so he didn’t indulge in nostalgia often. No point in making himself unhappy, was there?

  He’d liked Europe. They had some appreciation for the past there, and the open borders and jumbled web of law enforcement agencies had made it easy to engage in his trade. But his beloved could not be happy in Europe while her enemies lived and prospered in the U.S. When the Turning hit and the level of magic began to increase, she had needed to put her plans in motion.

  He didn’t begrudge moving here. There was much to appreciate about the U.S. and California and the modern world. He loved video games, especially Grand Theft Auto. While he might have preferred San Francisco to San Diego, there were enough people here to feed his beloved, even now when she remained attenuated. There was a large enough Asian population for him to blend in, and he could make use of the established gangs. His profession gave him an in there.

  If the public transportation wasn’t up to the standards of London or Paris, it was adequate to his needs today. There was a bus stop right at the hospital, though he did have to make two changes to get there.

  When the bus slowed to a stop he climbed on board carrying what he needed in a white grocery sack. After some consideration, he’d chosen to play it safe. His target had already confounded him once, proving resistant to both knife and spell. He couldn’t assume his other spells would work on lupi as beautifully as they worked on humans. Nor could he assume the sorcerer was too unwell to set proper wards. He ought to be—but then, he ought to be dead, too.

  He purchased a day pass from the driver and took a seat. The bus was crowded, and the woman sitting beside him wanted to chat about the weather. Johnny agreed that it was very hot, then took out his phone with an apology and pretended to make some calls.

  It was all very well to be friendly, but it would not do to be memorable.

  Besides, the woman was too tall. He didn’t like tall women. Once the city was his, he wouldn’t allow any woman over five foot three in his presence. He’d considered doing the same with men above a certain height, but that wasn’t practical. He accepted that some of his subordinates would be larger than he.

  Johnny prided himself on his practicality. Practicality, patience, and tolerance—those were his chief virtues. He did not, after all, become angry at the woman for being tall. Poor thing, she couldn’t help her height. Instead he cheerfully anticipated the day when women of her excessive inches would not be part of his daily life.

  But then, he was a modest man. How could a man achieve success if he did not understand his limits? He knew, for example, that he was not unusually bright or brave. Neither was he stupid or a coward. When he was young, he had thought one must be one or the other—bright or stupid, brave or cowardly. Now, he knew those were poles—signposts, one might say—at either end of long paths. Most people fell somewhere between those signposts, rather than at one end or the other. One might move slightly closer to one signpost or the other as life proceeded, but one would not greatly alter one’s natural position.

  He also understood that he was exceptional in two ways. Some quirk of ancestry had gifted him with the ability to see and use magic. Obviously, sorcery was both rare and valuable, but he took no credit for possessing this skill, just as he laid no blame upon himself for lacking great intelligence. He had not achieved the one nor failed at the other. He had simply been born as he was.

  Johnny’s other exceptional trait was less obvious—indeed, it was invisible to most people, and was commonly held to be twisted or perverse. A limited judgment, of course, but most people were sadly limited. They wanted good and evil painted in black and white so they knew what was what. Very few grasped the essential elasticity of those qualities. Moral behavior was contingent, always contingent, upon circumstances.

  This should be obvious to historians, if not to the dreaming majority. In how many ages and cultures had it been considered acceptable, even correct, to torture one’s enemies? In some cultures the eating of animal flesh was abhorred; in others, the hunter was elevated. And how many variations existed on proper sexual behavior?

  Yet people clung to the idea that some acts were inherently good and performing them made one good. Other acts were inherently evil, committed only by evil persons.

  And wasn’t English a clever tongue in some ways? This thought had come to Johnny many times since he learned the language, and it never failed to amuse him. One committed to evil, not good; good was simply a performance. Acting as if you were good might make it so, at least in the eyes of others.

  But men are always more comfortable thinking themselves like their fellows. Even now, with the fascinating things they were learning about the brain, scientists persisted in viewing abnormalities in the brain as flaws, failures, a problem to be fixed.

  Johnny was naturally curious about such things, given the nature of his second exceptional trait. He had read many popularized accounts of brain research and psychology. Happily, he’d been able to conclude he was not what experts called a psychopath. Whatever might be wired differently in his brain, it didn’t prevent him from making meaningful connections with others. Clearly he had a deep and loving connection with his beloved.

  Psychopaths were also said to lack empathy. That was certainly not true of him. How could he take such pleasure in giving or receiving pain if he were unable to sense the feelings of others?

  No doubt he would have shared the common view had he been born “normal.” Johnny chuckled as he climbed down from the bus with his white grocery sack. Had he been born without his other exceptional ability, he would also be long dead. His Beautiful One would not have fallen in love with him had he been unable to appreciate the exquisite pleasures she offered.

  Johnny sat on the hard bench to wait for the next bus. So many had failed his Beautiful One. This was not their fault, for they could not help it if their brains didn’t make the connections his did between pleasure and pain. But it was sad, he thought, that his second gift was so rare and so unappreciated.
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  Not by the one who truly mattered, though. She loved and valued him as passionately as he did her. He owed her so much. She said that debt had no meaning where there was love, but she wasn’t human. Johnny adored her, cherished her, and feared her, but she was not human, and she sometimes misjudged or underestimated what humans could do.

  That’s why he was here today without her. One of his beloved’s less human traits was her manner of sleeping. While asleep, she attenuated, losing her grip on the physical—though that would change, she told him, when she fully manifested. When first they met, she had slept most of the time. Now she needed less sleep than did he, but did not know when the need for sleep might strike, or how long she would remain asleep when it did. She might sleep for a day or an hour, then remain awake for a day or a week.

  She slept now. When she woke she would be angry with him, oh yes, and the thought of her anger made him tremble. But she was wrong, that was all there was to it.

  The sorcerer could not be left for later. From all Johnny had learned, the man was far too good with fire.

  TWENTY-THREE

  LILY took some satisfaction from slamming the door—but not much. She wanted to go back and yell at Rule some more. Where did he get off, telling her what she thought, what she felt?

  She couldn’t believe he’d picked now to dump that on her. That was just wrong. He was wrong. What made him think she didn’t know what she wanted? She wanted him, dammit. Marriage was . . .

  She dragged a hand through her hair. Marriage was scary.

  There. She’d admitted it. Marriage scared her, but it was the right thing to do . . . wasn’t it?

  She started walking.

  The Medical Examiner’s building was a graceless white Lego set in the midst of a sea of concrete. They were supposed to move to a new, larger facility soon—they’d long since outgrown this one, which had been built in the 1960s. But construction delays had them still working in the same old cramped quarters Lily used to visit, back when she was with Homicide.