Death Magic

TWENTY-FOUR

LILY had watched the Change many times. She had never truly seen it. Her eyes couldn’t track or her brain process events that were only partway of her space. But she recognized it, oh yes, and scrambled back. Away from the place where a man was being ripped apart.

“What the hell!”

That was Scott, clearly audible over Deborah’s panting, wordless exclamation as she reached for Ruben.

Lily knocked her hand away. “Stay back. Stay back.”

“What have you done!” Deborah screamed. “What did you do to him?”

It was taking Ruben so long. The Change didn’t drag on for this long. Or it never had when Lily saw it, but she’d never seen First Change.

Dear God. First Change.

“Lily,” Scott cried, “I can’t—I can’t fight it.”

Lily’s head jerked around. Scott’s eyes were almost wholly black, with only tiny triangles of white tucked into the corners. Ruben was dragging him into the Change. He was a mantle-holder. He could do that—would do that, willy-nilly, since he had no control himself.

“Let go!” she cried. Let it happen. It couldn’t be stopped, so don’t fight it, and maybe if Scott stopped fighting, Ruben’s Change could complete itself.

Reality went tap-dancing where Scott stood, folding and twisting itself like a Möbius strip on speed. Scott’s clothes fell to the floor, unsupported by a body that briefly failed to conform to the usual dimensions. Then a large gray wolf panted in Deborah’s kitchen.

And a large black wolf lay on her floor.

The black wolf’s sides heaved as if he’d been running. He raised his head, gave it a little shake. Tried to rise, but fell back. Slowly gathered himself for another try.

“Ruben,” Deborah whispered, and started forward.

Lily stepped in front of her. “Stay back. It’s First Change. He’s not safe.”

As if her voice loosed some spurt of energy or focus in the wolf, he heaved to his feet, then stood with his head hanging.

“Scott,” Lily said softly, “how much danger are we in?”

The gray wolf answered by moving between the women and the other wolf ... who raised his head to look at them. His eyes were bright and fierce and yellow. A low growl rumbled up from his chest. His hackles rose.

“But it’s Ruben.” Deborah sounded numb and baffled. “Whatever you did to him, it’s still Ruben.” She tried to move around Lily.

The wolf’s lips peeled back from a fearsome set of teeth, and the growl grew louder.

Lily seized Deborah’s arm and pulled her back. “He doesn’t know you because he doesn’t know himself. He doesn’t remember being a man. He’s beast-lost, and he’s scared, and you—”

Clumsy but fast, the black wolf charged.

The gray wolf blocked him and the two of them fell to the floor in a tangle of fur and snapping jaws. Scott twisted free and placed himself in front of the women again, his own hackles raised, teeth exposed. Dominance posture.

“Back,” Lily hissed, pulling Deborah with her. The woman’s breath came in scared little pants.

Ruben should have been intimidated by the confident adult wolf. Instead he charged.

Lily bumped into one of the chairs at the table. No place to go. She looked around quickly for a weapon. She wasn’t about to start shooting, but she had to get Deborah away from the snapping, surging clangor of wolves on the kitchen floor.

No weapons. “Scott, we’re going to head for the back door along the rear wall. Try to—”

Deborah jerked out of Lily’s hold and grabbed her shoulders. “Change him back! Whatever you did, you have to undo it!” She shook Lily’s shoulders. “Undo it!”

Lily brought both hands up and spread them quickly to break Deborah’s hold. “I didn’t—” But she had. Or rather, she’d agreed to it. She knew that much, even if she couldn’t quite remember what she’d known when she said okay. “I can’t change him back. He’ll have to do that himself, but he won’t be able to for a while. He’s a new wolf, Deborah. That means that for now he’s all wolf.”

A crash had her spinning back to face the two struggling wolves. They’d knocked into the wheeled island in the center of the kitchen, sending it smashing into the cabinets. In three quick seconds the tangle of fur resolved into two wolves once more . . . with the black wolf looming over the gray one, looking down with teeth bared, that ominous growl rumbling up his throat.

The gray wolf lay still. Breathing, not visibly harmed, but motionless.

He was submitting. Scott was submitting to Ruben. It made no sense. Mature wolves simply did not submit to new wolves. Scott was a canny and experienced fighter. Better on two feet than four, according to Rule, but good in either form. He should have been easily able to subdue a wolf so new to four legs that he’d had to relearn walking.

But the black wolf held a mantle.

A new wolf with a mantle. Dear God. A terrified, confused, and no doubt hungry new wolf with a mantle.

“Deborah,” she whispered. Both wolves would hear her, but maybe a whisper was less threatening. “Do you have meat? Something defrosted. It needs to smell like meat.”

Deborah shook her head, staring at the wolves in her kitchen. “Some chicken. We were going to have chicken and dumplings for supper. I think . . . he didn’t hurt him. See? Ruben isn’t hurting the—the other wolf. He’s not as dangerous as you—”

The black wolf’s head shot forward. In an eye-blink he’d seized Scott’s foreleg in his jaws. Lily heard the crack of bone clearly in spite of Scott’s single, high yelp.

Deborah made a small, choked sound. Scott was utterly silent. Utterly still.

The black wolf moved slowly, turning to face them, head down, eyes intent.

“Okay,” Lily said, thinking fast. “I’m going to head for your refrigerator. He’ll track me because I’m moving. See if you can make it to the back door. Scott will do what he can.” Even three-legged, Scott could fight. Surely whatever mantle mojo Ruben had pulled wouldn’t hold Scott frozen if Ruben attacked one of them. It was the wrong mantle, wasn’t it? Scott was Leidolf, not Wythe. Ruben might be able to force Scott to submit, but he shouldn’t be able to truly control him.

She thought. She hoped. “He needs to eat. I’ll feed him. Scott, I know you heard me. Wag your tail or something to confirm.”

Scott’s tail twitched once.

“I will not.”

Lily looked at the stupid, stubborn woman beside her. “You will do this.”

“I’m not running away.”

Lily took a deep breath. “He broke Scott’s leg because he’s a threat. We aren’t. We’re food.”

“Then we’d better feed him something else. And fast.”

“Then—” Lily’s shoulders tensed as she sensed something. Thank God. Oh, thank God. They only had to hold Ruben off a little longer. “Better take a chair.”

“What?”

The black wolf settled back slightly on his haunches.

Lily shoved Deborah hard, reached behind her for the chair she’d backed up against—and swung it with all her strength. It connected squarely with the leaping wolf.

He fell, skidded, then staggered to his feet. Scott had gotten himself erect and once more placed himself between the other wolf and the women. “Rule!” Lily yelled. “Hurry!”

Something smashed at the front of the house. The black wolf shook his head once . . . and came in low. And fast, faster than he’d moved before. He was learning this form way too quickly. He knocked into Scott, shoving him aside. Lily held him off with the chair—but he seized one of the legs in his jaws and pulled.

The chair went flying.

Rule raced into the room—leaped—and Changed—and was wolf by the time he collided with the black wolf.

“It’s Ruben!” Lily called out. “I don’t know what he smells like, but it’s Ruben, only he’s a new wolf.”

The fight was brief. Ruben couldn’t use the mantle on Rule, couldn’t intimidate or slow him, and Rule knew this form. In moments, Rule had the black wolf by the neck. The other wolf sank to the floor. Rule released him and the wolf rolled onto his back, belly up. Rule moved to stand over him, opened his jaws, and seized Ruben by the muzzle.

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” Deborah whispered.

“It’s okay. He’s just saying it like he means it. Ruben has to mean it, too.”

For several heartbeats the two wolves didn’t move. Finally Ruben whined faintly.

Rule lifted his head and looked at Lily. As clearly as if he’d said it, she read the “What the hell?” in his eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, but he’s the one the Lady picked.” She gestured at the black wolf, still lying submissively quiet. “When I got here . . . I’ll tell you later, but he’s got the mantle now.”

Rule’s gaze went to Deborah, who’d gripped Lily’s arm again and held on tight. Back to Lily. He growled once.

“Tough. If the Lady didn’t want Deborah to know about mantles, she shouldn’t have stuck one in her husband. Are you okay?”

He nodded once, looking at her intently. After a second she guessed what his question must be. “I’m fine. Actually . . .” She paused, lifted both arms. Flexed her biceps. “I’m all the way fine.” No pain. No weakness in her right arm. None. She twisted that arm to look. There was a scar still, but no dent. The muscle had grown back. “Jesus, that’s weird. Scott? You okay?”

The gray wolf nodded slowly. Not fine, maybe, but as okay as he could be with a broken leg.

Rule moved off the black wolf, who rolled so his belly wasn’t exposed but stayed down, watching Rule intently. Tentatively he stretched up his head so he could lick Rule’s muzzle : wolf-speak for You’re in charge. Let’s be friends. Rule allowed that for a moment, then licked him back once. The black wolf wriggled like a puppy.

Deborah was still breathing too fast. Still on the edge of panic. “I don’t know what’s going on. What happened to Ruben? What did you do? He’ll be himself again, won’t he?”

“Eventually. I think. I, ah . . .” Lily struggled for words to explain the inexplicable. “The CliffsNotes version is that I’ve been babysitting a mantle—that’s a magical construct that Rhos use to unite their clans, and you need to not tell anyone, anyone at all, about mantles, okay?”

“That will be easy. I don’t know anything to tell.”

“Details later. I had to babysit this mantle for a while because the Rho of that clan died without an heir. For some God-only-knows-what reason, today the Lady decided to put the mantle into Ruben. Somehow that triggered him into going into First Change. I don’t know how. It sure didn’t do that to me, and he’s not lupus either, so—”

Rule yipped.

“You mean he is? He smells lupus?”

He nodded.

Deborah looked more baffled than ever. “Is he—is Ruben okay now?”

Lily looked at Rule. “Is Ruben going to obey you? Because you need to clear out. I need to clear out. I came here because they’re going to arrest him. Did you get my message?”

Rule yipped again, glanced at Scott, and made a little circle in the air with his muzzle.

Lily frowned. “Why do you want Scott to Change instead of you doing it?”

Scott wasn’t as blindingly quick as Rule, but fast enough. In a few seconds he stood there, entirely naked, cradling his broken arm. “Where’s the chicken?”

“What?”

“The chicken. Rule needs to feed him.”

“The refrigerator,” Deborah said quickly and hurried to it. The black wolf shivered as if her movement excited or frightened him, but a glance from Rule kept him still. Deborah took out a package of chicken breasts. “Do I—”

“No, I do.” Scott snatched the package, ripped off the plastic, and advanced a couple steps before going to his knees and scrunching down, his head bent low, to set the foam tray on the floor. He shoved it toward the wolves.

He was underscoring Rule’s dominance, Lily realized. Baring his nape, submitting to Rule, showing the black wolf that all the other wolves in the room let Rule boss them around, too.

Rule stepped away from the black wolf, who started to rise—until Rule’s head swung around, teeth bared. He went flat again. Rule then inspected the offering in a leisurely way, sniffing it thoroughly. The black wolf quivered but didn’t move.

Rule-wolf selected one breast, crunched a couple times, then gulped it down. Then he used his nose to push the tray toward the other wolf—who looked at him as if asking permission. Rule stepped back. It’s all yours.

The black wolf was on his feet and devouring the chicken like he was on fast-forward.

Rule made a single, low noise, sort of a grunt. He looked at Scott. Scott frowned, then his eyes widened. “A car. I hear it now. It’s out front.”

Drummond? Maybe. Probably. “Quick,” Lily said, turning to Deborah. “Go see who it is. Don’t let them in. See who it is and let me know.”

For once the woman didn’t argue. She ran. Lily spun back to Rule. “You have to get Ruben out of here. They’re going to arrest him. If they find him here like that”—she waved at the black wolf, who’d polished off the chicken and was licking the wrappings—“he won’t be able to control himself at all. He won’t understand what’s happening. God. You’ll need clothes.” She flung the next words at Scott as she hurried to the back door. “Can you go with them? With your arm?”

He was already bending, scooping up piles of fallen clothing with his good arm. “Of course.”

Rule nudged Ruben with his nose. The black wolf snarled but stopped hunting for another scrap of chicken.

Lily fumbled with the lock, then flung the door open. “Make sure you’ve got Rule’s wallet and phone. Hurry.”

Rule gave Lily a single glance, then shoved at Ruben with his whole body before loping out the door. The black wolf followed as if he’d been told to. Scott was a few seconds behind with one arm circling their bundled clothing, the other one propped uncertainly on top of it. He hadn’t taken time for clothes, but he’d slipped on his shoes.

Lily shut the door, grabbed the tray the chicken had been in, and jammed it in the trash. She raced to the sink, turned on the water, and yanked at the roll of paper towels.

“There’s four of them,” Deborah said, slightly breathless as she ran back into the room. “I don’t know the other three, but I know Al Drummond. He interviewed me. They’re almost—”

The doorbell rang.

“Pour you and me some coffee.” Lily thrust a wad of paper towels under the tap. “Not full—as if we’ve been sipping awhile. Put the cups on the table. Pick the chairs up. I dropped by unexpectedly,” she went on quickly as Deborah hurried to the coffeepot. She bent and started wiping blood smears from the floors. “Ruben wasn’t here. He left to take a walk about an hour ago, shortly before I arrived.” Neither of the wolves had bled badly, but they’d smeared it all over, dammit. Lily went for more paper towels.

“But you’ll be in trouble.” Deborah set two half-full mugs on the table and a plate of cookies. Good touch. She broke off a corner of one the cookies and crushed it to leave crumbs on the table then righted one of the chairs. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“No choice.” Rule’s car was in front of the house. If she skipped out the back door, they’d look for him. She couldn’t let that happen. “We haven’t talked about the investigation or the events at Fagin’s house. Mostly about you—how you’re holding up, that sort of thing.”

Deborah was carrying the other chair across the kitchen. “My parents are giving me a hard time. You can tell them that. The leg on this one’s broken.” She opened a door to what seemed to be a pantry and took the chair inside. “Where will Rule take Ruben? What’s going to happen to him?”

The doorbell rang again.

“Questions later. Better let them in.” Lily tossed her towels in the trash, then cast a quick glance over the kitchen. No visible blood. Even if she missed some and Drummond was psychic enough to run lab tests on it, the tests wouldn’t tell them much. Not with lupi blood.

The kitchen island still rested against the cabinets. Lily hurried over to it as Deborah emerged from the pantry. “Get the door. Hurry.”

Deborah’s face was pale but composed. Or maybe she’d just shut down. Either would work for now. “The cup. The one I dropped. There’re pieces by the table.”

“I’ll get it.” Lily shoved at the island. “Go.”

Deborah did, her shoes clicking firmly on the floor. Lily left the island roughly where she remembered it being, hurried to the table, and bent to snatch up bits of broken coffee cup. Should have seen this when she was mopping up blood.

Voices at the front of the house. No time. She crammed the pottery shards behind a spring green throw pillow on the banquette, sat in the only remaining chair, and took a bite of a cookie.

“I told you,” Deborah was saying, her voice growing closer, “he went for a walk.”

“Was that before or after someone smashed your window?” Drummond asked.

“I didn’t know it had been broken until you asked me about it just now. I haven’t been at the front of the house.”

Lily washed down the bite with a sip of cold coffee just as Drummond strode into the room with Deborah a pace behind. Three more men followed behind the two of them—two she didn’t know, plus Mullins, who was looking especially dense and dull.

“I’m sure Ruben will be back soon,” Deborah said. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Drummond stopped when he saw Lily—but not like he was surprised. He smiled, cold and nasty, his eyes glittering with anger. “Look who beat me here. What a coincidence. You dropped by to chat with a suspect just before I came to arrest him.”

“You’re arresting Ruben?”

“He doesn’t seem to be here, does he? You know anything about that?”

Lily looked at those glittering eyes and her stomach lurched as if she were in an elevator headed down way too fast.

That wasn’t anger she saw. That was triumph. Drummond had just gotten exactly what he wanted. “How could I? I’m not part of the investigation anymore.”

“You got the last part right. Special Agent Lily Yu, you are under arrest.”