by Eileen Wilks
Sam had returned to his lair without speaking to her.
Lily knew now why he’d shut her out so abruptly. Grandmother had explained. Part of Benessarai’s payment to Robert Friar had included three psi bombs—something she’d never heard of—that an agent of Friar’s had been taking back east aboard a 747. The man had accidentally detonated them. Sam had foreseen this and reached the plane in time, but he’d had to hold a shield around the blast to keep it from driving everyone aboard insane, including the pilot. Had he faltered for even a second, the plane would have crashed.
In other words, Sam was a hero and Lily had no excuse for holding a grudge. Four hundred lives had hung in the balance, and she had been a distraction he could not afford. In her head, Lily knew there was nothing to forgive. He’d done the right thing. All of which left her confused and not liking herself much. She didn’t know if she was angry or hurt or just pouting, but she couldn’t seem to let it go. She couldn’t forget that slammed door.
Otherwise, things were pretty good. The day after tomorrow, on the second day of the new year, she and Rule had an appointment. With a real estate agent. They’d be looking for a property with a fair amount of land, something not too far from the city, but also not too far from Clanhome. Toby had been shuffled around enough. They wanted him to be able to continue his schooling at Clanhome.
But Rule couldn’t live there anymore. Not now that he was fully Leidolf Rho. They would find a property with land enough for wolves to run and either a really large house or two houses. They’d still need plenty of security, and besides, Rule wanted to bring more Leidolf out here. Time, he said, he started training more of them away from certain habits their old Rho had instilled.
The whole thing made Lily nervous. Rule had considered paying cash, but decided it would leave him with too little cushion. This purchase was on him, mostly. Lily sure couldn’t afford the kind of place they needed, Leidolf didn’t have the funds, and it was not something Nokolai could help with. So they’d be signing a mortgage. One whopping big mortgage, even with Rule making a whopping big down payment. Land did not come cheap.
Tonight, though—tonight was for Rule. Rule and Nokolai.
Lupi made a big deal about New Year’s Eve. At least Nokolai did. Christmas they considered more of a private time, one you spent with family or friends, but New Year’s Eve was for clan. They had a big bonfire, lots of food, dancing, and music, and everyone came who could. You were supposed to bring something to toss on the bonfire, something that stood for whatever you wanted to let go of along with the old year. People starting adding their whatevers around eleven so everyone would have a chance to finish before midnight, when the Rhej would ring a big old cowbell to let everyone know.
This was Cynna’s first time to have that duty. She was kind of nervous about it.
Some of the letting-go objects were funny, like Hostess cupcakes Emma tossed on the fire with a shout of “Junk food!” Some were a mystery to everyone else, like the small rubber ball José contributed. Several lupi gave him a hard time for stinking up the place—rubber smells awful when it burns—but he just smiled. A lot of people simply brought a piece of paper with something written on it.
That’s what Rule did. Lily didn’t know what he’d written on it, but he’d nodded as it turned black and burned.
Lily brought a stone from her necklace—the one that was supposed to keep ghosts away. It wouldn’t burn, but it was the idea that counted, she figured. She knew what she was letting go of as she chunked it on the flames. If she’d had to put a word to it, she would have said, “judgment,” but it was both more and less than that.
Drummond hadn’t come back.
When Lily was nine years old, a monster had stolen her and her friend. He’d raped and killed Sarah. Lily was alive because of a cop who got there in time. Since she was nine years old, she’d known two things: there were monsters who looked like people. And one day she would become a cop and protect the real people from the monsters. By the time she joined the force, she’d understood that the monsters were real people, too—twisted and warped and bad, but people. But her goal hadn’t changed.
When Lily was eight years old, she’d wanted the monster who killed Sarah dead. She’d wanted to be the one who killed him. That was one of the few things she’d been able to say about what happened to her, and it had alarmed her mother. The therapist they’d sent her to had wanted to talk about feelings, not actions. She hadn’t known what to say to a child who dreamed of murder.
Grandmother had. She’d patted Lily on the back and said, “Of course you wish to kill him. However, you cannot. Now go kill the weeds in my garden. Pull them out by the roots. Pull out the grass, too. Kill as much of it as you can.”
Lily still loved to garden.
It had taken another twenty years for her to understand there had been another reason for her to become a cop. She’d needed the rules. She was capable of killing, and she’d needed to know exactly what the rules were so she wouldn’t kill unless it was absolutely necessary.
She stood in the circle of Rule’s arm and watched the bonfire, feeling its heat on her face. Two people had brought fiddles and were starting to play. She’d dance in a bit. Her head hadn’t been concussed, and if her ribs were still bruised, that wouldn’t matter. Rule’s gunshot wound—which he had not told her about until she saw it—was fully healed. So she’d dance with Rule, and with others, too. She’d lived, and he had, and everyone here tonight had made it through this year in spite of the war. They would celebrate that.
Some hadn’t made it through the year. Too many.
Lily wasn’t sure if she would have killed Benessarai if Drummond hadn’t shown up to exact that promise, but maybe. Maybe she would. That was not a comfortable thing to know about herself. If she’d killed him, it wouldn’t have been because she had to, or even for the pragmatic reason that it was damn hard to imprison a sidhe with his skills. She’d have done it because she could, and he deserved death for what he’d done.
She still thought he deserved to die, but it wasn’t up to her. It never had been up to her. That’s what she’d tossed on the fire a few minutes ago.
Sometimes the bad guys did redeem themselves, wholly and completely. That’s what she’d learned from Drummond. That’s why it wasn’t up to her.
“This is going to sound stupid,” she said, “but I kind of miss him.”
“Miss who?”
“Drummond.”
“You’re right. That sounds pretty stupid.”
She elbowed him. “You’re supposed to reassure me.”
“Can’t. I tossed that sort of thing on the fire just now.”
She turned in his arms to look at him directly, looping her arms around his neck loosely. “I’m guessing you don’t mean you’ve given up reassuring me.”
He ran a finger along the side of her face, which was still a bit swollen. “I gave up thinking I can make better choices for you than you can. Being less than honest with you. And in all honesty, it does sound pretty dumb for you to—”
Rule was really ticklish under his arms. She got him good, and of course he retaliated, so they were both laughing when Cynna rang the cowbell good and loud, welcoming in the new year.
EPILOGUE
IN a place that was not quite a place as we think of them, two people were doing what, here, people often do in a bed.
No, not that. Though their reunion had been joyous and prolonged and had included plenty of sex—or something as like to sex as makes no difference, even though they did not have bodies as we know bodies—just now they were sleeping. Or enjoying something very like sleep, but enough of the circumlocutions. We have no way of truly understanding that place, so we’ll continue from this point on as if they were here and use the terms we know…
He woke first. That was habit and normal and familiar and quite wonderful. It gave him the chance to watch her sleep when he had thought he’d never have such a moment again.
A restless man
most of the time, this morning—and it was morning, in all the ways that matter—he was at peace. At least until she woke and smiled at him. She touched his cheek, tracing furrows put there by a life lived hard and mostly right, though when he’d gone wrong, he’d done so spectacularly. As she’d told him tartly at one point, for they’d talked as well as making love. “When are you leaving?” she asked.
He scowled. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, please. When have you ever been able to relax and enjoy a vacation?”
He blinked. “Vacation? They, uh, said this was a place of rest. I thought…it’s beautiful here.”
“It is. Very beautiful.” She was laughing at him now. “Rest, vacation—whatever we call it, this isn’t a place to stay forever. Though some people enjoy resting, or so I’ve heard.”
He didn’t relax at her teasing. “I, uh, I’ve been offered a job.”
“I felt sure you would be. Come on, let’s get up. I’m hungry.”
They fixed breakfast together, just as they had for most of their lives. Those other lives, that is, but that’s a distinction without a difference. He told her a bit about the job.
He’d been offered it by…an angel, he supposed, the same one who had spent time with him when he lost himself in the gray, then had forgotten almost completely. Of course angel was the wrong word. He knew that. The wrong word, the wrong everything, for whatever had offered this work to him, it so far surpassed his understanding of beings and boundaries that it made words meaningless. So he thought of it as the angel, and left it at that.
“Whatever it was Friar took out of there with him, it was nasty. And tied to this side of the line in a way I don’t like at all. Neither did the, uh…whoever offered me the job.”
She nodded seriously. “I heard something about that.” When he looked surprised she laughed again. She’d always laughed easily, but the happiness seemed to bubble up even more freely now. “Come on, I told you I’d been meeting people. Looking around a bit while I decide what I’m going to do now.”
“Yeah, but I never see anyone around for you to talk to.”
“Because you don’t want to. If you’d been interested…but never mind.” She reached across and took his hand. “Al, it’s okay. When did I ever kick up a fuss because of your job? I don’t want or expect you to spend a few eons sunbathing on the beach with me.”
Now he smiled. “You hate sunbathing.”
“True. So. When are you leaving?”
His hand tightened on hers. “Not yet. I need more time with you, more time to…but when I do take the job I won’t be gone constantly. I’ll be able to take…not weekends, but time here, now and then. Time with you. I won’t remember things here when I’m back there, not very well, but I’ll know I’ve been with you.” He felt sure of that now.
“Memory works differently there than it does here,” she agreed. “But the good things stay with us.”
“Yeah.” He looked at their joined hands, at the rings that glowed on each of their hands. “Yeah, the good things stay.” He grinned suddenly and looked exactly like the wicked twenty-nine-year-old man she’d first fallen in love with. Exactly—because memory did indeed work differently here. “And I’ve got to admit, I’m really looking forward to seeing Yu’s face when I show up again.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Al Drummond: FBI agent who went bad, he was killed at the end of Death Magic—yet remained as a ghost somehow tied to Lily.
Beth (Elizabeth) Yu: Lily’s younger sister. Twenty-five in Mortal Ties. Roommates are Deirdre (short, shiny blond hair, a nose stud, five piercings in one ear and three in the other; doesn’t trust even numbers) and Susan (same name as Beth’s oldest sister).
Celeste Babineaux: Rule and Jasper’s mother. Bipolar. Deceased.
Cullen Seabourne: Sorcerer and lupus, adopted into Nokolai clan after being expelled from his birth clan (Etorri) and living for many years as a lone wolf. Sixty. Married to Cynna Weaver.
Cynna Weaver: A Finder and spellcaster who follows a Swahili tradition that imprints spells on the skin like tattoos. FBI agent. Thirty-two.
Isen Turner: Nokolai Rho. Burly and bearded, he’s ninety-one years old but looks around fifty.
Jasper Machek: Rule’s newly discovered half brother or alius kin (means otherkin) on his mother’s side.
Leo Romano: Laban Rho until forced to step down, passing his clan’s mantle to his heir, Tony Romano.
Li Lei Yu, aka Grandmother: Lily’s grandmother on her father’s side. Much older than she looks.
Lily Yu: Homicide detective in Book 1 (Tempting Danger); joined the Unit (FBI) at end of that book. She’s twenty-nine in Mortal Ties. She was abducted by a child rapist when she was eight. Rule’s Chosen, Lily is a touch sensitive—she identifies the presence of magic through touch, but cannot be affected by it.
Michael Machek: Jasper’s father.
Ruben Brooks: Head of Unit Twelve of the FBI with an incredibly accurate precognitive Gift. Became both lupus and Rho in Death Magic.
Rule Turner: Nokolai Lu Nuncio or heir; Leidolf Rho. The press call him the Nokolai prince. Dark hair and dark eyes, he is fifty-five, but looks about thirty. He was raised by his father at Nokolai Clanhome.
Ryder: Cynna and Cullen’s new baby daughter.
Sarah Drummond: Al’s wife, killed by Martha Billings.
Toby Asteglio: Rule’s son. He’s nine and lives with Rule and Lily.
Tony Romano: Laban Rho. Tall, muscular, and gorgeous, he suffered brain damage as a child, and while First Change enabled him to heal the neurological damage, he still thinks slowly—but thoroughly. Often underestimated.
THE LEIDOLF SQUAD
Alan
Barnaby
Chris
Ian
Jeffrey
Joe
Marcus
Mike
Patrick McCausey
Scott White (in charge)
Steve
Todd
OFF-STAGE OR BRIEF APPEARANCE
Arjenie Fox: Benedict’s Chosen; a researcher for the FBI; part-sidhe
Benedict: Rule’s oldest brother; in charge of security at Clanhome
Brenda: Questioned by Lily; she talked too much to her Laban lover
Carl: Isen’s houseman
Carrie Ann Rucker: “Mule” for drug cartel, fifty-nine, a placid woman with graying blond hair and a crooked front tooth
David: Nokolai guard
Hank Jamison: Young Laban culprit
Hannah: Previous Nokolai Rhej
Isadora Bourque: Nokolai’s chief tender
Merowitch: Explosives guy
Mick: Rule’s brother who died
Pete: Benedict’s second
Sherrianne: Questioned by Lily at Clanhome
The Sidhe
Alycithin: Coleader of the trade delegation; a halfing with tawny fur, a darker ruff atop her head, and bright green eyes. Muscular and about Lily’s height. Came up through the warrior class.
Aroglian: The other elf with Alycithin. An expert spellcaster who specializes in body magic, including healing. White hair.
Benessarai: The other coleader of the delegation. Son of a sidhe lord, heavily outranks Alycithin socially, which means he’s really in charge. Copper-colored hair.
Dinalaran: One of Alycithin’s assistants; armed with a SIG, does the driving. Creamsicle-orange hair.
Lord Sessena: Benessarai’s mother and Alycithin’s sponsor. Powerful sidhe lord in her realm.
Lord Thierath: Benessarai’s father.
GLOSSARY
Elfin or Sidhe Words
arguai: power from an unknown source; not magic, often spiritual
dielgraf: soul-enemy
Rekklat: a catlike race in Alycithin’s realm, known for their skill as warriors and remarkable endurance; Alycithin’s father is Rekklat
seurthurin: one who practices the arts of the mind (mind-magic, such as illusion)
so’amellree: one of the sixt
een words for enemy; describes one who might be a friend, were circumstances different (fem. form)
so’elriath: an enemy for whom one feels no hostility, one who is simply on the other side
Thalinol: the Queens’ realm
LUPI WORDS
Historically, lupus clans in Europe and Britain used Latin to communicate with each other for the same reason it was adopted by the Church—the need for a unifying tongue. Their version evolved, as languages will, into a thoroughly bastardized tongue likely to make classical scholars wince. In addition, there are a few words used by the lupi that have no known derivation. Lupi claim these words come from an ancient language that predates Latin, but since Latin predates 1000 BCE, experts consider this unlikely.
The use of Latin to communicate between the clans is dying out now, since so many lupi speak English as a first or second language, though it’s still considered essential for a Rho and his sons, who must negotiate with other clans. Several of the words and phrases remain useful, though, since they have no obvious English equivalent. Below are a few of the words and phrases any lupus would know.
amica: uncommon, but still used. Means friend/girlfriend (fem.); a lupus might call a male friend of the same clan adun, from adiungo (to join to, connect, associate).
ardor iunctio: literally, “fire of joining.” Symbolic fire used at some ceremonies, most notably the gens compleo.
certa: “a place of ice and clarity, where sensation is sharp enough to cut and action flows too swiftly for thought.” It’s a battle state; sensations heightened, thought clear but altered. Opposite of furo.
drei: tithe or head tax; it’s a percentage of income or wealth given to the clan.
du: honor, face, history, reputation; has magical component. Predates Latin.
firnam: derivation unknown; a memorial for one fallen in battle.
fratriodi: brother-hate. A grave sin among the lupi.
