Blood Lines (45 page)

“I’m getting a hint of direction,” Cynna said from the backseat. “East and a bit north.”

Cynna had done a cast before they got in the Suburban and found that Jiri was blocking her. Apparently that was possible, given enough knowledge and power. Jiri had the knowledge and a demon to draw on for power, but she couldn’t block her former student completely. Cynna knew roughly how far away she was, and was beginning to pick up her direction.

“That matches,” Cullen said crisply. “The park’s northeast of us.”

Rock Creek Park. That’s where Jiri said she’d meet them, at a stone bridge in the park. She must have read the kidnappers’ tip sheet: tell the victims not to contact the cops or the FBI. Give them a tight time limit to respond to your demands. They had twenty minutes to get there.

Cullen knew where the park was. He wasn’t sure about the bridge, but they’d find it . . . and her. They had Cynna for that.

“Right at the next light,” Cullen said.

And there was one of those personal cords tugging at her. Something was going on with Cullen and Cynna. Not the sex—that had been inevitible, and if it had made Lily uncomfortable for them to go at it in the next room, that was probably her problem. But Cullen was behaving strangely. When they came out of the bedroom he’d grabbed Rule and told him something—speaking under the tongue, dammit, and the stupid mate bond was not giving Lily that kind of hearing anymore. Whatever he’d said, it had made Rule grab Cullen and hug him hard.

Cullen’s years as a lone wolf had made him less easy about touch than most lupi, and Rule’s position as Lu Nuncio and heir had done something of the same for him. And men might give a buddy a backslap or punch on the shoulder for scoring, but a hug?

Besides, Rule wasn’t a scorekeeper. She hadn’t thought Cullen was, either. And Toby’s life was at stake, dammit. So it hadn’t been about sex.

“I still think we should stop for ammo.” She’d lost the argument about stopping at a cop shop to pick up reinforcements. If Jiri was a farseer, that was too dangerous. But they hadn’t been told to come unarmed. They had the rifles they’d brought with them from Leidolf, but no reloads.

“If Jiri’s there on her own, we won’t need extra ammo,” Cynna said. “If she’s got her overgrown friend with her, rifles won’t help.”

“Only if we can’t separate them.” That was the plan, such as it was.

If Jiri did offer them a deal, they’d hear her out. Cynna said a demon master had enough demon stuff inside her that she could be bound by her word, just like a demon, if you knew how. Cynna knew how.

But Lily was expecting an attack, not a deal. If they were attacked, they couldn’t use deadly force on the demon unless they could be sure of not killing Jiri along with it. She’d know that. She’d be counting on it. But Cynna could hit the demon with her spell—which, it turned out, stopped demon hearts. This one had multiple hearts, so the spell might not kill it, but it would probably go dashtu. If it did, it would be physically separated from its master. Cullen could throw mage fire at it while Rule and Lily went after Jiri.

An optimist might say the plan left them room to improvise. A pessimist would call it full of holes.

“Too late to change our minds now,” Cullen said. “That’s it on the right.”

The place was closed, of course. It was nearly nine. They parked the Suburban in the empty lot and climbed out.

The temperature had plunged after the sun set. The air was raw with cold and damp, with just enough of a breeze to make things worse. Lily shivered and zipped her jacket, settled the rifle comfortably on her arm, and started for the gate with Rule and Cynna.

Cullen was already there. “What do you know—they forgot to lock it.” The gate swung open at his touch.

That was another way Cullen could be handy. He was good with locks. Lily had never asked how and why he’d aquired that particular sorcerous talent. Some things it was better not to know.

She looked up at Rule. “You okay?”

The overhead lights of the parking lot picked out the sharp blades of his cheekbones and limned his mouth, but his eyes were shadowed, no more than a liquid gleam in the darkness. He slid a hand over her nape and into her hair, answering her with his touch and a smile.

“I’ve got her,” Cynna said suddenly. “I’ve got a Find on her now. She’s here physically, not just riding her demon.”

“And the demon?” Lily said.

“He’s around, but . . .” She shook her head. “I think he’s dashtu and not too far from Jiri, but I’m not sure. I’m sorry. Holding two Finds is tricky.”

“Quit apologizing,” Cullen snapped. “Most Finders can’t do two Finds at all.”

Sex didn’t seem to have turned them into lovers. Not in any conventional sense, at least. But what about either of them was conventional?

They passed through the gate into the park.

They’d debated splitting up, but in the end decided they were too small a party for that, especially since demons were hard to sneak up on. Rule or Cullen might have managed it in wolf form, but both needed to remain two-footed. Rule had to be able to speak if Jiri did want to make a deal, and Cullen couldn’t throw fire in his wolf form. So everyone kept together and on two legs as they set off down the path.

Lights on poles made to resemble old-fashioned gas lanterns were spaced at intervals just wide enough to be useless while still ruining her night vision. The path itself was crunchy with gravel and leaves crisped by frost, and Lily’s breath plumed white when they entered the circle of light under the first lantern. Overhead, a few stars struggled to penetrate the city haze. The moon hung low, just over the trees to the east, looking like a lump of orange sherbet. It was still a week from full.

Their path turned before reaching the creek to run parallel to it, separated by a fringe of small trees. Lily heard it lapping against its banks, slapping around the rocks in its bed. She thought she could hear her heart pounding, too. God knew she could feel it.

She was terrified.

Rule would know that, as would Cullen. They’d smell it on her. That bugged her, but it fell on the list of things she couldn’t do a damned thing about. Not that she was ashamed of being afraid; that was a sane response to facing a demon. She acknowledged the feeling and put it away. Worse by far was the fear she couldn’t speak.

What if Jiri wanted to trade Toby’s life for Rule’s? Would he agree?

Would she try to stop him?

Don’t fight a battle that isn’t joined,
she told herself, and moved ahead as silently as she could.

“Wards ahead,” Cullen said softly.

Rule stopped. “What kind?” he asked in a barely there voice.

“Not the keep-us-out sort, but she’ll know we’re here. I can disable them without her knowing, but it will take time.”

“How much?”

“Ten minutes, maybe.”

Which would put them over the time limit. Lily didn’t think Jiri would kill Toby if they were a few minutes late; he was too valuable to her. But it wasn’t a chance she wanted to take.

Neither did Rule. “Then we’ll ring her doorbell before entering.” He moved on.

They didn’t bother being quiet after that. Their path veered slightly away from the creek, skirting a large, rocky outcropping. Trees had just closed in overhead, their branches scratching each other in the breeze, when Cynna spoke quietly. “She’s just past those evergreens, about ten yards away.”

Rule held up a hand. They stopped in the shadows beneath the trees. He tilted his head up—scenting the air, Lily realized. But the wind blew the wrong way.

After a moment he shrugged. “We may as well keep our appointment.” He moved forward.

Their path had led them true, right to the stone bridge. A tall woman dressed in black sat smack in the center of the bridge’s arch. Her skin was so dark it blended into her clothing—a leather catsuit, black and form-fitting. She was easy to spot, though. No trees arched out over the bridge to block the moonlight, and one of those fake gaslights was on the other side of the bridge.

She stood. “You may as well come out of the trees. As you see . . .” She gestured widely. “I am alone.”

“Not entirely.” That was Cynna, her voice hard. “Your familiar is on the other side of the creek.”

“Cynna,” she murmured. “How you hate me. I am sorry for that. In so many ways, though, you wouldn’t be here if not for me, would you? Yes, Tish is near, but I had him wait at enough of a distance that you would know you could escape him, if necessary. I need your help.”

Rule’s laugh was harsh and brief. “You’ve an odd way of asking for it.”

“I’ll admit,” she said, walking slowly to the near end of the bridge, “that I wanted to control the situation. I trust you no more than you do me. You think I’m behind the attacks on the heirs. Cynna has no doubt convinced you I am evil.”

“You killed my men. You enspelled my son. What do you call yourself?”

“Desperate.” That came out flat and oddly convincing.

“What do you want?” Lily asked, her own voice as expressionless as she could make it.

Jiri looked at her. Lily felt the unmistakable tug of a shared gaze and knew the woman saw better than average in the dark. Better than human? Cynna said she had a fair amount of demon stuff in her. “Lily Yu. Do you love your lover’s son?”

The question rocked her out of her professional detachment—as, no doubt, it was intended to do. Did she love Toby?

She’d only begun to know the boy, so some of what she felt for him was more readiness to love than a feeling centered on Toby himself. But she thought of an eager young voice, quick footsteps racing up or down the stairs, the stubborn set of a small chin in a young face both like and unlike the older face she loved. “Yes.” Her voice came out hoarse. “You have the control you wanted. We’re here, ready to do just about anything to have the spell lifted from Toby. What do you want?” she asked again.

“Your help. I haven’t hurt the boy. I won’t hurt him. This much Cynna should be able to tell you—I don’t harm children.”

“Freddie had a son,” Rule said.

“Freddie?”

“One of the men you killed today.”

“Ah.” For a second her face went blank, as if his death came as news to her. “I am sorry for that. Does the boy have a mother?” There was a curious intensity to the question.

“He does. That doesn’t make up for the loss of his father.”

“But children need . . . no, we aren’t here for that. Never mind.” She tilted her head up, and light shivered down over a face Lily saw clearly for the first time. An exotic face, the nose broad and flat, the forehead high and rounded. Sloe-eyed, thickly lashed. And skin not truly black, but brown. The filigree of tattoos overlaying it was so dense, far denser than Cynna’s, that at first you saw only darkness.

“I’ve worked so hard for this,” Jiri murmured, “for so long, and now that the time has come, I’m afraid. How foolish. But I’ve been afraid for so long . . . it becomes a habit. Well.” She faced them again. “What do I want? I want you, Rule Turner, to lead as many of your people as you can summon. I particularly want your sorcerer friend. I want to attack a man who was once my apprentice.”

“Tommy Cordoba,” Cynna said.

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “You found out that much? Yes, Tommy. He’s behind the attacks on lupi, not me.” Her lip curled in scorn. “He would say he’s made a powerful ally. You know who I mean—She’s your enemy. He has taught some of Her servants—you call them the Azá—to summon demons, but he is the master. You won’t take my word for this, of course. Tish. Show yourself to our visitors.”

Beside the fake gas lamp on the other side of the bridge the air grew fussy, like smoke swirled with a finger. Within seconds it had resolved into . . . a thing. He was humanoid, as Li Qin had said, but nothing about him made Lily think of a person. He was massive, like pictures Lily had seen of a troll: ten feet tall and twice as broad as the biggest man she’d ever seen. His neck was thicker than her hips. His skin was the color of dried blood and the texture of rock, and tusks a foot long curved out from either side of a wide, lipless mouth. His tail curled neatly around his feet, broad and sinewy like a boa.

And yes, he was male, in a gargantuan sort of way.

“Hold fire,” Rule said softly.

Lily had snugged the rifle to her shoulder automatically. She kept it trained on the demon.

“I can still lie,” Jiri was saying. “I admit that. But Tish cannot. I have taught him English. Ask him who is behind the attacks. He will answer.”

“Cynna?” Rule said in a low voice.

“Demons can’t lie, but you have to phrase your questions carefully and pay close attention to the answers. They’ll make technically true statements that add up to a lie if they can.”

“You’ve experience with questioning demons?”

Cynna took a long breath, expelled it. “Yeah.”

“Then you do the questioning.”

“Rule.” Cullen’s voice was sharp.

“From here,” Rule added. “He can hear us from here.”

Lily thought Cynna could have a career as an attorney if she decided to change professions. Her questions allowed no wiggle room: Is the woman standing on the bridge in front of me, whose use-name is Jiri, your master?
Yes.
Do you have any knowledge or reason to suspect or surmise that your master has summoned, aided in the summoning, or caused to be summoned demons other than yourself who have attacked lupi in this realm?
No
. Do you have any knowledge or reason to suspect or surmise that she has lied to us tonight?
No
. Do you know who summoned the demons who attacked various lupi four nights ago?
Yes.
Who?
You know them as the Azá.
Who mastered those demons?
Tommy Cordoba is their master.

Cynna looked at Rule. “Best I can do. I think it’s true.”

“Tommy is behind the attacks,” Jiri insisted. “If you kill him, they will end. The ones he taught would still be able to summon demons, but only a master can control them beyond the summoning circle.”

Rule spoke coldly. “Do you expect me to believe you engineered all this to persuade me to kill someone who is my enemy?”

“No. I brought you here to kill my enemy. It’s your good fortune that he’s yours, as well.”