Mortal Sins (21 page)

The doorbell rang.

“Damn.” She pulled out of his arms and dashed to the closet. “How much money have you made Nokolai over the years?” She grabbed another of her pretty jackets, this one yellow, and a black silk camisole.

“I do a good job with our finances, but—well, to put it bluntly, lupi are not humans. We don’t base our loyalty on money.”

“Humor me. How much?” She slipped out of the black jacket she’d been wearing and unbuckled her shoulder holster.

“We did well in the boom. I suppose that, allowing for inflation, Nokolai’s assets have roughly tripled since I began handling the majority of our financial matters. Certainly we need less
drei
than Leidolf does.”

“
Drei
? Oh, yeah, I remember. That’s your head tax. Now, Leidolf’s relatively poor, though it’s a bigger clan than Nokolai, right?” She tugged off her tee.

This distracted him, naturally, but after a moment’s silent appreciation, he said, “That’s right. Leidolf is the largest clan.”

Cami in place, she grabbed her ankle holster and strapped it on. “I need more clothes,” she muttered. “I didn’t pack for this.”

He considered asking if she meant to shoot Alicia, but decided she wouldn’t appreciate the humor right now. “I’ll take some things to the cleaners tomorrow, if you like.”

“That would be a help.” With her backup weapon hidden beneath the full leg of her black slacks, she added the yellow jacket to her outfit. “I know you’re not exactly human. I know that, but you’re awash in our culture, and your people are very conscious of power. I can’t believe lupi are oblivious to the power and security money represents. I know your father isn’t.”

Rule shrugged. “That’s one of the ways Isen differs from many of the Rhos.”

“Money makes Nokolai more secure. It can do that for Leidolf, too. Add increased security to the fact that you aren’t crazy and mean like Victor . . . plus the Leidolf Rhej likes you. Her opinion carries weight.”

“She won’t like me if I break honor and . . .” Wait. Cullen had told him the Rhejes knew about the way the Etorri mantle was shared. The Leidolf Rhej might guess what he was doing—especially if he did exactly what he’d already planned to do: have her examine Toby for any trace of the cancer.

The doorbell rang again.

“Shit.” Lily glared through the floor at whoever had arrived. “Why is there never enough time?”

“We have to make time for the important things. Like this.” He took her shoulders and kissed her as thoroughly as he thought she’d allow, given the guests accumulating downstairs. Long enough for her to soften against him and his own body to ready itself for something that, unfortunately, was not happening.

Not happening yet,
he promised himself. Not yet, but soon.

He lifted his head, smiling and tasting cinnamon. “You make me clear to myself.” Because she was entirely right. He’d choose the option that gave him options, however difficult, rather than surrender his son to fate.

She smoothed her hands down his shirt. “I could use some clarity, so I’m hoping you can return the favor later. I, uh—sorry, but I’ll have to go back to work after dinner. Maybe I can bring you up-to-date, get your input. Not now, though. Now we have other dragons to face.” She grimaced and ran a hand through her hair. “Lip gloss. I don’t have time to redo my makeup, but lip gloss, at least.”

He handed her purse to her. She delved inside. “Oh, one more thing. You have to start saying ‘we’ instead of ‘they’ when you speak of Leidolf. They’re your clan, too.”

“It doesn’t work that way. Even if I wanted to—to be Leidolf . . .” And oh, but saying that left a sourness in his gut that warned him of just how much would have to change. “I underwent
gens compleo
with Nokolai, not Leidolf.”

“That’s when you’re accepted into the clan, right?” Her lips now shiny, she capped the gloss. “Which is accomplished when the mantle recognizes you, or something like that. Well, I’d say the Leidolf mantle recognizes you now.”

“Holding part of a mantle isn’t the same as being held by the mantle.”

“Is it a difference in degree, or kind?”

He opened his mouth . . . and shut it again. There was a flaw in her reasoning. Somewhere. There had to be. “I . . . There is a difference.” But was it a difference that mattered as far as clan membership went? If Etorri had, for centuries, been recognizing its members by investing them with a portion of the mantle . . .

“Rule.” She slid the tube back in her purse and looked at him. “I admit I don’t understand about mantles, and I know you’re mostly Nokolai and are accustomed to tracing your descent through the male line. That makes sense, since only males are lupus. But your great-grandmother was Leidolf. That’s why Victor was able to force the mantle on you. Which means you’ve always been part Leidolf, by blood. Now that you’ve got both the blood and the mantle, you’re Leidolf as well as Nokolai. It’s time you accepted that.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

DINNER
could have been worse. Lily pointed that out to herself more than once as the meal progressed. The wraith could have shown up, for example, and a possessed Alicia might have stabbed Lily in the back literally instead of settling for verbal jabs. That would have been worse.

But easier to defend against. Alicia was smart enough to keep her digs under the radar—more like sprinkling too much salt than openly dumping poison. Lily didn’t think any of the others noticed. Normally Rule would have, but beneath his impeccable manners, Rule was distracted. Shaken, she suspected. Probably she’d picked a bad time to point out that he had two clans.

Fortunately, Lily was a side dish for Alicia, who focused most of her attention on her son.

Lily was seated close enough to eavesdrop. At first Toby was stiff, resentful. Alicia kept asking questions, teasing gently until she got him talking about soccer,
The Simpsons
, and his desperate need for a puppy, which his dad had promised to take care of when he moved to Clanhome. Lily was aware of the promise, having been in on the negotiations.

The promised puppy was announced with a stubborn tilt to his chin. After a moment, Alicia asked what kind of dog he wanted, and they discussed beagles and Great Danes, both of which, it seemed, were acceptable to Toby. All in all, Alicia was patient, observant, and interested. Not exactly maternal, maybe—more like a big sister or favorite aunt. But she did okay. She did fine, really.

So where was the CEO of Narcissists R Us whom Lily had encountered earlier?

Lily went back to being a good guest. Alex, seated on her left, was one of those men who acted like he’d been issued a certain number of words at birth and didn’t want to run out. It took a little effort to get him talking, but a mention of his new SIG Sauer did the trick. Like most lupi, he had an aversion to firearms—but he’d decided to overcome that after the events of last December.

Cullen stayed busy charming everyone, including the new husband. They got into quite a discussion of jackals—which apparently were close relatives of wolves—and the merits of tryptophan in the
Canis
diet.

James French puzzled Lily. He was so . . . bland. The only thing that stood out about him physically was his tan, which she learned came from spending as much time as possible observing Lebanon’s fauna. An economist by training and profession, he was an enthusiastic amateur naturalist. He was a thin man, maybe five-eight, with soft brown eyes behind gold-framed glasses. Lily wasn’t sure she’d ever met a more innocuous person.

Even without Ruben’s hunch, she would have found all that blandness suspicious.

Finally it was time for dairy-free brownies in the living room. Chocolate and coffee were always a good idea, though it would have been better if the coffee weren’t decaf. Tasted pretty good, though Lily noticed that Rule barely sipped his.

He insisted caffeine couldn’t affect him. She had her doubts.

Rule, Alex, and Lily sat on one couch facing Alicia, James, and Toby on the other. Louise had brought in two chairs from the den. Cullen sat in one by the piano, and Louise sat in its mate near the window. Connie had excused herself right after the meal, claiming she couldn’t sleep if she ate chocolate. Lily figured she was tactfully clearing the way for a family discussion.

Toby wolfed down his brownies and bounced up from the couch. “I guess I should get my stuff now. I’m going to spend the night with Justin, Mom,” he added. “You remember Justin.”

Alicia, startled and not pleased, shot her mother a look. “I didn’t know Toby was going somewhere tonight.”

“However things turn out,” Louise said quietly, “Toby has a parting coming up. Of course I allowed him to spend time with his friends now, while he can.”

“Still, I think I should have been asked.” Alicia looked at Toby. “You need to ask my permission, too.”

Toby’s jaw set. He didn’t respond.

Louise’s expression never changed as she said to her daughter, “Do you really wish to challenge my authority at this time, dear?”

“Your authority?
I
have custody of my son.”

James French leaned forward, placing one hand on Alicia’s knee. “Licia,” he said firmly.

She turned a stormy face to him. Their eyes met. Gradually the storm faded to a rueful expression. “Wrong battle?”

He nodded, smiling faintly. “Also the wrong time and place.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Toby, I shouldn’t interfere with your grammy’s arrangements. But when you’re living with me, I’ll expect a different attitude from you.”

The storm that had left Alicia’s face landed in Toby’s. He opened his mouth.

“Toby,” Rule said.

This time father and son locked gazes. After a moment Toby sighed. “Yes, ma’am.
If
I go live with you, I’ll have to mind.”

Before Alicia could argue about the qualifier Toby had appended, Rule said, “Alex has agreed to drive you over to Justin’s. That’s nonnegotiable,” he added as Toby’s mouth opened once more.

Toby gathered himself up and gave Alex a dignified nod. “Thank you. I don’t think it’s necessary, but thanks.”

When Toby hit the stairs, James started talking to Alex, using that reliable source for male bonding—football. Lily took advantage of the moment to lean closer to Rule and whisper, “Justin’s parents aren’t afraid that Toby will contaminate him?”

“I had a chat with Mr. Appleton after my grocery store run,” he said softly. “I was able to allay some of his concerns by, ah, allowing him to lay hands on me and pray.”

Oh, my. Lily’s lips twitched. “Mistook you for a demon, did he?”

“Behave.” But Rule’s lips tilted up, too. “Toby needed to be there tonight. Cullen’s concerned about Talia. She’s learning quickly, but she doesn’t know how to set a permanent circle, so she’ll be vulnerable when she sleeps.”

Toby came hurtling down the stairs, backpack slung over one shoulder. “’Bye, Grammy! ’Bye, Dad! ’Bye, everyone! Alex, are you ready?”

There was a small delay while Louise made Toby come into the room to say goodbye properly and informed him that he was to address Alex as Mr. Thibideux. Alex took his leave with grave formality. As the door closed behind them, Toby was asking Alex if he was really “almost as good as Uncle Benedict.”

Alicia looked at Rule and said dubiously, “You’re sure about this Alex Thibideux?”

Lily didn’t know if Alicia was bothered because she didn’t know the man, or if old-fashioned prejudice was rearing its head. Alex must be mixed race—Leidolf was originally a Germanic clan, so his father would have been white—but he didn’t look it. He was very large and very dark. Lily happened to know he had a degree in sociology, but that, like his father’s heritage, didn’t show on his face.

“Quite sure. He would die before allowing harm to come to Toby.” Rule smiled slowly, allowing a hint of the wolf to show. “And Alex is hard to kill.”

“That he is,” Cullen said cheerfully. “Do you want me to head out now, too? I hope not. I think we’re about to get to the interesting part of the program.”

Alicia looked at Rule and sighed faintly. “I suppose you arranged for Toby to be gone so we could talk.”

“In part, yes. We need to discuss your sudden change of mind about custody.”

“There’s little to discuss. Look, Rule.” She leaned forward, hands clasped on her knees. Since she’d worn a killer little green-and-white print dress with a scoop neckline, this gave him a good view of her breasts. “I’ve loved Toby from the moment I saw his wrinkled, red little face, but I’ll admit I’ve been slow to take responsibility. Mother’s injury earlier this year was a wake-up call for me.”

Rule’s face lacked expression. “Love him? No. You’re very fond of him, but you’ve never allowed that fondness to interfere with your life.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel! You disapprove of my choices. Fine. We can talk about that, but—”

Lily’s phone sounded the first bars of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” “Sorry,” she said, rising and pulling the phone from her jacket pocket. “I have to take this.” As she headed for the hall, she heard Alicia angrily disputing Rule’s claim that there was anything lesser about her love for Toby.

The caller was Ruben, as she’d known from the ring tone. She didn’t have to ask any questions; Ruben covered everything clearly and concisely. “Damn,” she said softly. “No, I agree. Not yet, anyway. Thanks, Ruben.” She disconnected, then took a moment to order her thoughts.

When she reentered the room, Alicia was talking about the possibility of joint custody “. . . on an informal basis. There’s no need to put Toby through the difficulty of a custody hearing if you and I can come to an agreement.”

“If our agreement is in writing and approved by a judge,” Rule said politely, “that might be possible—if Toby agrees.”

She tossed back her hair. “He’s nine years old. It’s wrong to put that kind of responsibility on him.”

“I have a question,” Lily said mildly.

Alicia looked surprised, rather as if a chair had spoken. “What?”

“Do you still despise lupi?”

“I never said—”

“Alicia,” her mother said gently, “you may not have used that word, but you’ve said often enough how little you trust Rule and his people.”

Lily nodded thoughtfully. “You know, it doesn’t strike me as healthy for Toby to be raised by someone who detests what he is.”

“He’s a little boy,” Alicia said hotly. “Maybe he’ll be lupus one day, but—”

“No,” Rule said. “He is lupus
now.
He can’t Change yet, but he’s lupus.”

Alicia’s gaze darted to James, who met her eyes. It was quick, over in a second—but Lily caught the flash of something like triumph in Alicia’s eyes.

Shit. “I really hoped you didn’t know,” she said softly.

Alicia flicked her an annoyed glance. “Are you playing the mysterious Oriental, or is that supposed to mean something?”

“You think you can keep Toby from becoming lupus by not allowing him to Change. Ever.”

Alicia was good. She leaned back with nothing more than annoyance showing on her lush and lovely face. James wasn’t so good. Guilt chased excitement across his oh-so-ordinary features before he settled on looking puzzled.

“Lily?” Rule said quietly. Just that.

She looked at him, aching. He’d guessed what she meant. By the tautness in his face, by the restrained fury in his eyes, she could tell he’d guessed. “Ruben’s hunch played out the way most of them do. Let me handle it, okay?”
I know how to take a suspect down. I can do this.

He held her eyes for a long moment, and maybe he read her determination. He nodded.

“There is,” Cullen said slowly, “only one way to prevent the Change.”

“That’s right. Gado, it’s called, from gadolinium, the rare earth element that’s used to make the drug. The government developed the formula for gado back when it was forcibly registering lupi, but the use and manufacture of gado is now illegal—since lupi who are kept too long from the Change tend to go insane.”

“Nonsense,” Alicia snapped. “I know they claim that, but it simply isn’t true.”

“Actually, Alicia, that’s what the FBI says. It was the FBI’s Magical Crimes Division that used to trap lupi and administer the drug, and their records are pretty clear, though the government has not released them to the public in spite of filings under the Freedom of Information Act. But I’ve seen them. Half of the lupi kept on gado for more than a year committed suicide. Of the remaining half, thirty percent suffered psychotic breaks and most of the rest became catatonic.”

“Good God,” James said. “Alicia—”

“She’s lying.” Alicia was scornful. “She’s so besotted by him she’ll say anything. She admits these alleged records aren’t available to the public, so she can make up any statistics that suit her.”

Tempting as it was to slap the certainty right out of the bitch, Lily knew where the weak link was. She focused on James. “You’re probably aware that the formula itself is protected by law. You may not have realized that purchases of gadolinium are tracked.”

He flapped a hand. “Is that what this is about? You’re jumping to conclusions. I bought a bit of gadolinium, sure. It’s used in several other applications, you know, like MRI imaging. It has some intriguing paramagnetic properties, and I’m curious about how—”

“No, James. Whatever story you’ve concocted isn’t going to fly. Agents have already spoken with your friend—the one who retired from the CDC.” She glanced briefly at Louise. “The Center for Disease Control handled the manufacture of gado, back in the bad old days when lycanthropy was considered a disease with public health implications. James’s friend must have given him the formula for gado.”

James was still trying to tough it out. “I won’t implicate John.”

“Fine. There are agents at your house right now. They’ve found the wolfsbane.”

Rule growled. It was not a human sound. But it was Cullen whose control snapped—and Cullen was fast, even for a lupus.