Mortal Ties

by Eileen Wilks

  At the moment she wore jeans and a button-down shirt and carried a blanket-wrapped bundle that was beginning to bleat like a distressed sheep. “Firebug Asshole interrupted Ryder’s dinner,” she added, plopping down in one of the chairs and unbuttoning her blouse with one hand. “That’s about all I know.”

  “We don’t know much more,” Lily told her. “Isen’s off on a run. He went alone, which is why Rule’s in charge. Rule, you learned something just as Cynna got here.”

  His face was about as closed as the door he’d just shut. “One of the nearest patrols got close to the fire, but had to retreat. Our intruder has burned some grass, a couple of trees, and one hellishly large amount of wolfbane.”

  SEVEN

  WOLFBANE, aka monkshood, blue rocket, devil’s helmet, aconite. There were over two hundred species in the genus, many of which had been used medicinally for hundreds of years. Landscapers still planted it ornamentally. It was a deadly poison.

  The roots of several species contained a highly toxic alkaloid that the Japanese once used for hunting bears and the Chinese in war. In Ayurvedic medicine, aconite was said to increase the fire dosha, and traditional Chinese medicine considered it a remedy for “coldness” or lassitude. In Western medicine, it had been used for everything from a local anesthetic—contact with the sap caused first tingling, then numbness—to a treatment for various heart problems. Certainly it acted on the heart. It stimulated the cardio-inhibitory nerve in the medulla oblongata, reducing both heart rate and blood pressure, but there was a wee tendency for the heart to slow too much. In most mammals, though, respiration stopped before the heart did.

  Werewolves were not most mammals, but wolfbane affected them, too. It made them sick. Deeply, miserably sick. Hence the name.

  “What symptoms?” Lily asked urgently.

  “Aaron is still puking his guts out,” Rule said. “Will wasn’t as badly affected and was able to drag Aaron away from the smoke and call Pete. No paralysis.”

  That was a relief. There was a woman—currently in prison and stripped of her Gift—who’d devised a way to combine wolfbane with other ingredients to create a smoke that paralyzed lupi. Best if that innovation did not spread.

  Lily looked at Cynna. “How close does Cullen have to be to tell the fire to quit burning?”

  “It depends on how big the fire is, but the closer the better. He won’t be able to get very close, will he? Unless…how steady is the wind?”

  Rule answered that one. “Too fitful up on the slope to predict. Unless it steadies so that Cullen and the others can approach from upwind, we’ll have to wait for the wolfbane to be consumed before we can deal with the fire.”

  Lily gave him a look. “You’ve got plenty of clan who aren’t lupi.” Clan who were female, in other words. The daughters of lupi were human but were considered clan, and there were more than the usual number of adult females at Clanhome now.

  Rule got a funny expression on his face, as if he’d taken a swig of what he thought was water and found out was vodka. “You’re right. I didn’t think of it, but…still, it would take them awhile to get up there, and the wolfbane should have burned up by then.”

  “Unless Firebug Asshole scattered wolfbane all over the place, so that wherever the fire spreads, there’s wolfbane around to burn.”

  It took Rule five seconds to nod. Every instinct was arguing against it, she knew. Lupi didn’t precisely coddle their women. At least Nokolai didn’t. Southern California sprouted wildfires in the summer the way Iowa grew corn, and Lily knew that some of the female clan had been on fire lines before. But the instinct to protect went deep. Sending women out now, exposing them to possible attack from whoever had invaded Clanhome…no, that hadn’t occurred to Rule, and it took him a moment to accept the necessity.

  Still, he called Pete and told him that Mellie would be in touch shortly about an escort for the female firefighting crew she would put together. Then he called Mellie. Mellie Blackstone was fifty-something, tough as nails, and owned a small construction company. She was also on Nokolai’s council of elders.

  All of the lupi clans had councils except Etorri, which was too small to need one. Lily hadn’t understood the function of these councils at first, save for the obvious: they advised the Rho. In a few clans they also managed the clan’s financial affairs; in others they had ceremonial duties; in a couple they were responsible for overseeing the clan’s youth. They also took on the day-to-day duties of the Rho if he were incapacitated or unavailable. Wythe’s elders had kept the clan going until their mantle found its new holder in Ruben; Leidolf’s elders were responsible for a great deal now that Rule held that clan’s mantle, given how little time he was able to spend there.

  But the most vital duty of a Councilor was never stated outright, which was why it had taken Lily awhile to figure it out. They had to be able to argue with their Rho. Not simply advise, but disagree loudly, firmly, even fiercely.

  Most lupi are deeply reluctant to argue with their Rho. Many simply can’t. The ability to do so if necessary was the most essential qualification for becoming an elder. Lily had eventually realized that this, rather than egalitarianism, was why all of the councils except Leidolf had at least one female member, and some had several. The mantle didn’t include or affect female clan. Lupi did not—ever—harm women. So a tough-minded woman could look her Rho in the eye and tell him he was being an idiot when even strong-minded male Councilors might find it hard to offer more than tepid disagreement.

  “I guess Mellie has firefighting experience,” Lily said when Rule ended the call.

  “She used to be a fire-jumper, and she’d kick my ass if she knew I had to be prodded to think of her for this,” he said wryly. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t—hold on.” He touched his phone again, accepting a call.

  It must have been good news. The tension in his shoulders eased. All he said was, “Good,” before disconnecting, but when he looked at Lily his eyes were smiling. “Isen’s on his way. He’s fine, unhurt. Hammond found him at Snake Draw, all the way at the east end. Down there he couldn’t see the glow from the fire, so he didn’t know. They’re headed back at a run.”

  Lily felt her own shoulders relaxing, too. The east end of the draw was maybe four horizontal miles away, but the first part of the return trip was anything but horizontal. Still, lupi were fast. Isen would be here soon.

  “Excellent!” Cynna said, and, “Say, could one of you get me a diaper? She’s about finished, which means she’ll go to sleep, then in ten minutes she’ll stink the place up. Regular as a clock,” Cynna said proudly. “Thanks,” she added to Lily, who’d retrieved a diaper and some wipes from the stash in the bassinet, and went on, “I was wondering if there was any way Firebug Asshole could have known that Isen wasn’t here at Clan Central. That he’d gone off alone.”

  “I don’t see how,” Rule said, “unless we postulate a Nokolai traitor.”

  “And that’s unlikely, I know,” Cynna said, “but if the goal wasn’t to pull attention away from an attack on Isen—or on me or you or Lily—what was it? Why hasn’t something happened?”

  “It’s only been fifteen minutes or so,” Lily began, then stopped. Cynna was right. If the firebug knew what he was doing, he’d have acted by now. The more time passed, the better their chances of finding him. Or her. Or them.

  “Maybe it has,” Rule said slowly, “and we just don’t know it yet.”

  Lily drummed her fingers on her thigh. “When you want to figure out a perp’s goal, you start with what actually happened.”

  Rule’s gaze sharpened. “We went on full alert.”

  “Which meant lights out here, you and me tucked up in this room, and a squad sent to fetch Cynna and Ryder.”

  “A squad that reported no problems along the way.”

  “Rule.” Cynna sat bolt upright, dislodging Ryder and leaving her breast entirely bare. “You also sent Cullen to deal with the fire.”

  Rule’s face went tight. He reache
d for the phone—but even as he did, it rang. “Yes.” A pause. “I agree. Send the closest two squads there, stat. He doesn’t go in until they’re in place. I’ll call him to make sure he understands that.” He ended the call and looked at Lily. “Someone or something triggered the wards around Cullen’s workshop.”

  HINDSIGHT works a treat. Lily clambered up the steep path as quickly as she could and added up all the ways the perp had outsmarted them.

  The key was the workshop’s location. Cullen didn’t always make things go boom, burn up, or stink to high heaven while investigating whatever magical conundrum had his attention, but the chances of one of those three things happening in any given month were good. There was a large sinkhole where his previous workshop had been. Still, some of the things he could make, some of the ideas he was working on, could be vital to the clan, so Isen built him a new one. That one was on Little Sister…the mini-mountain Lily was currently climbing. And the closest peak to Big Sister.

  The saddle connecting the two was riven with crevices and such a tumbled confusion of rock that even a mountain goat would prefer to go the long way around. The intruder could be confident that no one sent to investigate the fire on one peak would stumble across him on the other, and there was no one on Little Sister to notice him. There were a few homes near the base of Little Sister, but none farther up, where the workshop was sited.

  None that anyone lived in, that is. Hannah’s old cabin was about two hundred yards from the workshop, but despite the current crowding at Clanhome, no one had moved in. It was still filled with her things, and because she had no living relatives, it would stay that way until Isen gave permission for them to be removed. So far, he hadn’t.

  Isen was in the steel-reinforced study now. Rule had run ahead so he could check out the perp’s trail, and Lily was nearly at Cullen’s workshop. Two lupi kept pace with her. She had her weapon, her purse, and a flashlight. She couldn’t see in the dark the way they could.

  She did know a few things about the intruder now. It looked like he’d acted alone—and yes, the intruder was a he, and he was human. His scent had told the lupi that. He was a thief, maybe a pro, and he liked motorcycles.

  Cullen was fast, even two-footed. He’d reached his workshop maybe fifteen minutes after his wards were breached, and he’d followed orders. He hadn’t gone inside…but he had nosed around outside, including looking in a window. That’s how they knew the intruder was a thief—something was missing. José had shown up at the workshop with his squad while Cullen was cursing the thief, but he didn’t send one of his wolves in to check out the workshop. By then, Isen had gotten home, and he’d altered Rule’s orders. Nokolai had an explosives expert. Pete had sent for him when the whatever-it-was exploded on Big Sister, but he lived in a small town nearby, not on Clanhome. Isen had wanted everyone to wait for the expert. Even a really good nose might miss something if he didn’t know what he was sniffing for. This guy did.

  Lily couldn’t fault Isen’s caution. The intruder had already shown he knew how to blow things up. Plus the delay gave her to time to get to the scene before it was completely contaminated by Cullen and the others. Maybe. If she hurried.

  The expert was there now.

  While José and his squad had been waiting for the expert, though, they’d been busy. The four-footed contingent had found the intruder’s scent quickly—fresh, male, and human. The wind was with them, too, so they had scent in the air and on the ground. They’d taken off after him. The thief had had less than twenty minutes’ head start at that point. Not enough, not when he was human. They’d expected to catch him, and they would have—if not for the second fire. And the motorcycle.

  The second fire was started with plain old lighter fuel, not explosives, and laid smack-dab on the trail the thief had taken. Laid with the wind in mind, that helpful wind that had carried his scent to them. The wolfbane-contaminated smoke took out five of the twelve-man squad immediately. Five of the others were affected to a lesser degree, leaving only two at full strength. Still, one of them managed to pick up a scent trail on the other side of the fire.

  That’s when the klaxon went off.

  Lupi do not all react the same way to the same dose of wolfbane. The nausea is universal, but the degree varies, the duration varies, and some lupi have other symptoms. José was one of those who lost their sense of smell. He hadn’t inhaled much smoke, so he was queasy rather than incapacitated, but his nose was horribly and infuriatingly dead.

  There is little that makes a lupus crazier than losing his sense of smell. Maybe that had led José into error, or maybe he’d have done the same thing had his sniffer been at full strength. He ignored the klaxon as an obvious attempt to lead them away from the real trail—the scent trail he could no longer detect, but two of his wolves had it. He and the remaining squad members took off down that trail, crossing onto state land.

  Then they heard the dirt bike…half a mile of very rough country away. Right about where the klaxon had gone off.

  When they got there, both motorcycle and thief were gone.

  Smart thief, Lily thought as she crested a rise, breathing hard. The klaxon had been a double-dip of deceit. What kind of fool would set off a klaxon to announce his location while pursued by wolves? One who knew something about lupi, who knew they’d trust their noses over their other senses. Rule was investigating that deceptive scent trail now.

  A man stepped out of the darkness in front of her. “Lily.”

  She couldn’t see his face well without shining her flashlight in it, and that would be rude. But she did lift the light slightly. “Ah—David, right?” She’d met the leader of this squad at some point—tall, with a blocky build and reddish brown hair, but mostly what she remembered was the mustache. Very few lupi kept any facial hair.

  “Yes. This is the perimeter Merowitch suggested should be safe.”

  Merowitch was the explosives guy. “He’s in the workshop still?” When David nodded, she said, “I need to talk to Cullen.”

  “He’s at the workshop.”

  “Dammit, he was told—”

  “Not inside,” David said quickly. “But Isen didn’t tell him to stay away from the workshop—just not to go inside. He, ah, takes orders very literally. And only,” he added with justified exasperation, “from his Rho or Lu Nuncio. Or so he informed me.”

  That sounded like Cullen. “Does he have some reason to think that’s safe, or is he just being an asshole?”

  “He did some kind of spell and said he didn’t find any explosives—but he thought we should all wait on Mero witch’s okay, just to be sure. But if he isn’t sure, he shouldn’t be there.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she assured him, and raised her voice. “Cullen? I’m heading down there to talk to you.”

  A voice floated up from the darkness. “Like hell you are!”

  “Lily?” David said, worried. “You can’t—”

  She patted him on his arm as she passed him and kept her voice raised. “If it’s safe enough for you, it’s safe enough for me.”

  “Dammit, David, can’t you stop one little bitty human female?”

  Either David had caught on or he was truly appalled. “You want me to physically restrain a Chosen? Rule’s Chosen?”

  “She’s not going to shoot you,” Cullen called back. “I don’t care what she says, she won’t shoot.”

  That made Lily grin as she picked her way down the path. “I don’t threaten what I won’t do.” There were trees on this side of the ridge—pine and scrub oak, mostly—and the trail down was steep and skid-inducing, with scree and pine needles. She kept her flashlight on the ground right in front of her, but farther down she could see light through the branches. It wasn’t very bright, but it gave her a target. She could hear something, too—Cullen cursing as he hurried up the trail toward her. The light brightened as he got close, resolving into a small ball of pure light floating just ahead of a half-naked man who could have given nine out of ten Hollywood star
s a run for their money.

  Ten out of ten, if he hadn’t been scowling so hard. “Did it even occur to you that I wouldn’t be down there if it wasn’t important?” Cullen demanded as he came to a stop in front of her.

  “Important and urgent aren’t the same thing. Are you going to behave, or should I tell Cynna?”

  “Cynna would understand. If there was a firebomb, I could put it out, couldn’t I? But there isn’t. I did a quick Find spell.”

  She didn’t say a word.

  “I may not be a Finder, but my spell’s pretty good.”

  She kept looking at him.

  “And don’t tell me I proved anything by coming up here to stop you. If something did blow, I’d heal. You wouldn’t.”

  She glanced back over her shoulder, where David and the rest of the squad waited—all of whom were every bit as good at healing as Cullen—then looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

  “All right, all right. But it was important enough to take a small risk.” Cullen ran a hand through his hair—something he’d been doing a lot of, judging by the way it was spiked up all over. “You don’t have to mention this to Cynna.”

  “I need to know about the prototype that’s missing.”

  “Yeah, well, I need to know how the rat bastard got through my second ward, which I can’t figure out from up here.”

  “We can start there. What does your second ward do?”

  “Stops kids.”

  “I’m pretty sure the perp isn’t a kid.”

  Cullen waved one hand impatiently. “It takes too much power to outright block people with a ward. If I could figure out how they used to do it, using ley lines to—never mind. The point is, I can keep out fleas and scorpions. Flies are harder. So are kids. You tell kids they can’t go somewhere, they’re immediately going to want to check it out. Can’t have that. Aside from the sheer nuisance of having them sneak into the workshop, it isn’t safe. So I added a second ward. If someone crosses it, a wall of flames springs up around the building.”