Dragon Blood (World of the Lupi #14)

Li Lei had spoken truthfully to Rule about her chance of success at ensorcelling a demon prince. He was in charge of their tactics and needed to know. Rule had . . . oversimplified somewhat when he relayed that part of his plan to Lily. Li Lei had chosen not to offer Lily those details Rule had omitted. No doubt if Lily were aware of this, she’d be angry that Li Lei and Rule had conspired to take away her right to worry herself silly. Li Lei did not regret having done so.

Demons were incapable of using mind magic. That much was largely true. But Xitil was a demon prince. Demon princes were like other demons in some ways, and a different sort of being altogether in others. The princes established the “rules” in their territories, rules that amounted to natural laws. One of the rules in Xitil’s territory was that everyone understood everyone else, regardless of what language they spoke. That was mind magic, and on no small scale.

Before the dragons left Dis for Earth, before Xitil consumed the avatar of an Old One and went insane, she must have had excellent mental shields. Li Lei had not needed to ask Reno about this, as it was obvious. If Xitil had not possessed very good shields, the dragons who had been her neighbors would have controlled her, and she would never have entertained that avatar. The question had been whether or not she still possessed them.

As it turned out, she did . . . but they were a tattered and decaying mess, like the rest of her mind. Li Lei had been able to slip in between the chaotic layers of shielding. It had not been easy or pleasant, but it had been possible. This had been a profound relief.

Li Lei did not have all the abilities she had possessed during her time as dragon. She could not fly, use mindspeech, or compartmentalize her mind. But she had retained some of them. Dragons knew how to share their deaths. If she had been unable to ensorcel Xitil, she would have done so. It would have been a good death, for the others would have lived. She glanced aside at the rangy wolf loping along beside them. Toby was tiring, but he had held up very well. He seemed more accepting of the others in their group now. Perhaps he was getting used to them, or perhaps it was simply that more of them smelled right, even if they were not currently wolves.

But she vastly preferred life over even the best of deaths. A broken wrist and a cracked rib were annoying, but they would pass.

At last, they reached the node Li Lei had, after discussion with Rule, selected for their first attempt. It was not the closest to Clanhome, but she was fairly sure it did not open up into solid rock or an uncomfortable distance above the ground.

On this side, the node was set in a narrow culvert or dry riverbed. The descent was shallow enough that the bikes could make it, but not with passengers. Li Lei got off, thanked Mason for driving her on the motorcycle, and climbed down the culvert, every muscle and joint in her body aching. She stopped at the node and shaped the spell she must use in her mind, then sang to the node.

It was not dragonsong, which Reno would have used. It was a translation into sounds her vocal chords could accommodate. It worked. It also took a great deal of power.

She swayed, barely able to stay upright. A firm arm went around her waist, steadying her. She permitted this, as it seemed preferable to collapsing. “The pulse went out successfully. We must wait now for the gnomes to arrive and erect a gate. I believe the Fists provided some food?”

“Rough rations, but yes.” Rule smiled down at her. Then he surprised her, lifting one of her hands and kissing the back of it. “Grandmother, you never fail to amaze me. I wonder sometimes what would have happened if you’d ever gotten mad at the government and decided to topple it.”

She snorted, entirely pleased with her new grandson. “I do not pay a great deal of attention to governments. Although once . . . but it was a very small country. I do not count it.”





FORTY




THE wait for the gate to open seemed endless. They lined up along the dry riverbed more or less in order of injury. Benedict was at the front with Mason, who would carry him through. He’d passed out again as soon as they reached the node. Cullen was still weak, but he’d improved once he got some of the jerked meat into him along with a fair portion of their water. Max’s leg had started healing, but badly, as the bone hadn’t been set in time. He’d need surgery to straighten it.

Lily, Rule, and Toby were the exceptions to the lineup. Someone had to keep watch from the top of the short incline, and Lily could use her mindsense along with her eyes. Toby’s sense of smell might be a plus, too, but he wasn’t a dependable sentry. He was there because Rule refused to let Lily stand watch alone, and Toby went where Rule did.

At the moment he was sound asleep, his head on his father’s thigh. Rule stroked him absently. “You should have some more of that jerky.”

“Too thirsty to eat.” She’d gotten down some of the sweet-spicy dried meat the Fists had provided, but she really didn’t like it. It also made her terribly thirsty, and they were out of water. “You can have the rest of mine.”

He shook his head and fell silent a moment. “I don’t think you ever met Carlos’s daughter. Her name’s Raina. Raina Matthews.”

“No, though I’ve heard Carlos mention her. I’ve met his father, though, haven’t I? Miguel Gutierrez? He wears a beat-up black cowboy hat all the time and a squash blossom necklace. Works at the clan’s construction firm.”

“Miguel. Yes. He never outgrew his love for cowboys and Indians, though he alternates between calling himself a cowboy and calling himself an Indian—Navajo usually. As he hasn’t a trace of Navajo blood, this annoys Benedict.” Rule’s smile flickered and died. “This will be hard news for Miguel.”

He hurt. She could hear it in his voice and thought about telling him that they’d come out of this with far fewer deaths than they had any right to expect. But that wasn’t the point, was it? “Tell me about Raina,” she said instead.

Raina Mathews was twenty-five, single, no children. Her mother had named her, and she hadn’t put Carlos’s name on Raina’s birth certificate, although she and Carlos had been living together when she got pregnant. She’d wanted him to marry her. She’d believed that Carlos had no rights to the child unless he married her. He hadn’t, of course. Lupi didn’t marry . . . until first Cullen, then Rule, broke that taboo. She’d kicked Carlos out the day she and Raina came home from the hospital. He hadn’t seen his daughter again until she was five years old.

“I expected Carlos to be angry when I married you,” Rule said quietly. “He wasn’t. In his mind, the mate bond made my situation completely different from his.”

After college, Raina had gotten hired at an investment firm in L.A., and she was ambitious enough to put in long hours. Carlos hadn’t seen her often after that, and had been talking about moving to L.A. himself before the hidden war with the Great Bitch heated up. He’d stopped talking about moving.

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