4

LUPE Valdez, the senior charge nurse in orthopedics, was around fifty and maybe twenty pounds overweight, with thin lips, an asymmetric nose, and a weak chin. Even in her shining youth, most people probably wouldn’t have called her lovely.

But her hair was glorious—thick and black, worn long and pinned up. Her smile was warm, and she moved with the lightness of a dancer. To Rule, she undoubtedly was lovely.

Lily wondered if Lupe smelled lovely, too. Lupi were a lot more scent-oriented than humans. “Ms. Valdez, I appreciate your willingness to talk with me.” She held out a hand.

“Lupe,” the woman said, taking Lily’s hand without hesitation and giving a brisk shake. “Call me Lupe. I’m glad if anything I can tell you helps Jason. You want some coffee?”

They were in the crowded alcove that served as a break room. Lily glanced at the coffeepot, thought it looked reasonably fresh, and decided to take a chance. “Sure. Thanks. Black, please.”

While Lupe poured two cups, after making sure Rule didn’t want any—he didn’t, coffee snob that he was—Lily sat at a table slightly bigger than a handkerchief and took out her notebook and pen.

Lupe Valdez had a hint of an accent and more than a hint of a healing Gift. Lily would bet her patients recovered faster than the norm. If she’d managed to find training for her Gift, some of her patients recovered more fully than their doctors expected, too. If she’d found another sort of training, she could have tattooed that design around Steve Hilliard’s neck.

Rule parked himself against the wall, leaning there with arms crossed. Lily waited until the other woman was sitting across from her to begin. “I understand you and Jason kept in touch after he left town.”

Her smile was small and private. “You could say that. He always stopped by to see me when he visited Steve…sometimes here, sometimes at home.”

“But not on the night he was killed.”

“Unfortunately, no. He dropped by here that day, spoke with me awhile, but I didn’t see him that night.”

“For the record, I need to know where you were the night of Tuesday, April twenty-eighth.”

“At home. My daughter was home, too, since it was a weeknight. Sarita has to be home by eight on weeknights.”

“No other company?”

“No. Well, one of Sarita’s friends was there until ten—Lori’s got a license and her mother lets her use her car a lot. I’m divorced,” she added. “I don’t know if Rule told you or not, but I’m divorced, so it’s just me and Sarita at home now that Annie is at college.”

“Annie? Is she your other daughter?”

She nodded. “Her full name’s Anna Maria after her grandmother, but she’s gone by Annie since she started school. She’s at UCLA. They’re on a quarter system there instead of semesters, did you know? She doesn’t get to come home till the end of the spring quarter. Not till June.”

“You must miss her. How old is Sarita?”

“Sixteen. She’ll take driver’s ed this summer.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not looking forward to that nearly as much as she is.”

“I’ll bet. Did you know Steve Hilliard?”

She shrugged. “Slightly. We’d met a few times. I knew he and Jason were tight.”

“You knew they were both lupus.”

“Yes. I knew about Jason before he…well, before most people did. And Steve was open about his nature.” She glanced at Rule. “That is, he was after you made your big announcement. That’s been, what—five years now?”

Rule smiled. “Six.”

Lily jotted down the names and info Lupe had given her. “You and Jason are good friends.” She kept her head down so she didn’t seem to be watching Lupe, but she was. She saw the glance Lupe gave Rule before she answered.

“Good friends,” she said firmly. “He introduced me to another friend. Maybe you know her. Nettie Two-Horses.”

Lily looked up, smiling. “I do. Nettie’s one of my favorite people. Did she help you with your Gift?”

Lupe jerked back, frowning.

“Maybe Rule didn’t tell you. I’m Gifted, too. I’m a sensitive.”

“Oh. No, he didn’t. He didn’t mention that.”

“I kept it secret for years, but that’s not working for me anymore. I don’t use my Gift to out people, Lupe. You don’t have to worry about that. Rule tells me you live close to Robert Friar.”

Her upper lip lifted. “That nacimiento póstumo.”

“I haven’t heard that one before.”

“It means afterbirth. It’s from an old saying that I made up.” When she smiled this time, a dimple winked mischievously in one cheek. “Do you have pets, Agent Yu?”

“Uh…yes.” Though Dirty Harry probably saw things the other way around. “A tomcat. He’s neutered now, but don’t tell him.”

“You may not be aware that after giving birth, many animal mothers will eat the afterbirth to keep the den clean. What I say about Robert Friar is that his poor mother was confused—she ate the baby and raised the afterbirth.”

“You really don’t like the man.”

Lupe leaned forward suddenly and grabbed Lily’s hand. “He is evil. Evil. He killed Steve, I am sure of it. You will find the evidence and arrest him, and Jason will go free. You must.”

Softly Lily asked, “Why are you sure Friar killed Steve Hilliard?”

“He hates lupi. Everyone knows he hates lupi and all the Gifted, anyone tainted by magic. That’s his word, tainted.”

“There must be more than that, for you to be so certain.”

She snorted. Some of her intensity faded, but she didn’t release Lily’s hand. “You ask him. Ask Robert Friar about his daughter, Mariah.”

“All right. What can you tell me about her?”

“She had a baby two months ago, a little boy. She claims he’s Steve’s son.”

IT was late in the afternoon in late April, the sun was shining, and Lily was almost too warm in her lightweight jacket.

That was as it should be. Why did cold weather, snow, and ice get such great press when it sucked? Of course, not everyone was lucky enough to live in San Diego.

“Why so smug?” Rule asked.

“Did you know that the U.S. Weather Service calls San Diego’s weather the most nearly perfect in the country?” To be fair she added, “Hawaii’s supposed to be nice, too.”

He laughed. “You’re glad to be home.”

“Yeah.” Even for a little while, and even if she wasn’t exactly home. Maybe Rule’s condo was supposed to be home now, but it wasn’t hers. She didn’t pay for anything there except some of the groceries. Which reminded her…“The lease comes due on my apartment next month.”

“Hmm.”

She glanced at him. “You’re not going to tell me how stupid it is for me to keep paying rent when we’re living together and your place is so much bigger?”

“Why would I tell you what you already know? You’ll keep the apartment if you feel a need. If not, you’ll let it go.”

She walked beside him for a few steps in silence. “If I weren’t investigating, I’d hold your hand right now.”

Promptly he took hers.

“Hey.” But she didn’t pull away. She told herself no one would notice—they were mostly blocked from view by the parked cars. “Mariah Friar’s baby. He isn’t Steve’s son, is he?”

“No. It’s not uncommon for a woman to claim one of us as the father. Sometimes they believe it to be true. Sometimes they hope for support, emotional or financial or both. Sometimes they want the notoriety.”

“Hmm.” She accepted Rule’s word as both honest and accurate. He would know. Lupi never had to play who’ s-the dad. When a lupus impregnated a woman, he was instantly aware of it.

Lily might not have believed that if she hadn’t been almost present when it happened once. Cynna and Cullen had made love in the next room, not in front of her—and thank God for that—but there was no doubt in her mind that Cullen had known immediately that his seed had caught.

Any lupus blessed with a child notified his Rho ASAP. One as desperate for a child as Hilliard had been would have announced it to the entire clan. Certainly to his oldest friend. “So, how exactly did you stalk Chief Daly?”

“I don’t know why I thought you might forget to ask about that.”

“I don’t, either.”

He flashed her a grin. “Smart-ass. All right. For about a month, I made sure good old Pete saw a lot of me. Sometimes two or three times a day. We’d run into each other at the post office or Joe’s Burgers—he likes the chili burger with extra jalapeños. Sometimes I’d skip a couple days. Doesn’t do to be predictable.”

“That’s enough to make him mad, not to make him sweat. He started sweating when he saw you.”

“Some of the places where I ran into him would have been unexpected.”

“Such as?”

“Now and then I’d wait for him to come home after a long day’s work—he’s divorced, lives alone—have a little chat, and leave as soon as he fell asleep.”

She stopped walking. “He fell asleep with you there? You broke into the chief of police’s house, and he went to sleep instead of arresting you?”

“It was an apartment, actually, and he wasn’t the chief then. And I had a little charm Cullen made for me.”

“A sleep charm.”

“Worked beautifully, too. So did the other charm Cullen gave me.”

“And that was?”

He smiled, but his eyes were hard. “A confusion charm. Poor Pete wasn’t sure of anything. What time did he see me? What day? He had a couple patrollers keeping an eye on me by then, but they swore I’d never gone near his place on the night he thought I’d showed up.”

“He didn’t even know which night you were there? Surely he could work it out.”

“He’d wake up with the last few days jumbled. He wasn’t sure when anything happened.”

“That’s…chilling.”

“He was the chief detective in a town that borders Clanhome. Steve wasn’t the first lupus he’d picked up for trivial or manufactured reasons and beaten. We heal so conveniently well, you see, that there are never any marks later. He needed to know he’d pay a price for indulging his little hobby.”

“Did he do that to you?” she demanded. “Did he beat you?”

Something flickered in his eyes, too brief for her to read it. “No. But those he did hurt were mine to protect.”

She frowned as she started walking again. “I’ve never heard of a confusion charm. How hard is it to make?”

“The confusion charm is Cullen’s own creation, and he called it fiendishly difficult. I doubt anyone else has one, at least in this realm, though I suppose it’s possible Cullen traded one for something at some point.”

“Hmm. He probably wouldn’t trade the spell itself.”

“He’s possessive about that sort of thing,” Rule agreed. “We’ve reached the car.”

So they had. It was a plain white sedan that all but shouted “I am a government vehicle.” One of the regular agents assigned to the San Diego office had brought it to her at the airport. Someone from Nokolai was bringing Rule his car, but she wasn’t sure who or when.

Just as Lily clicked the lock, Rule’s phone chimed. He pulled it out, frowned. “I missed a call. Reception’s not great in the mountains, but I’ve got bars here.”

“Could be a bit of magical interference.” One of the things magic interfered with most easily was cell phones. “Is there a node nearby?”

“A small one, I think. I’d better return this one,” Rule said. He did so while they both got into the car. Lily started the engine, thinking about what she knew about sleep charms.

They worked on demons, though not as well as they did on humans.

They had to be touching whoever they were used on.

They weren’t hard to make—at least not for Cullen, but sorcerers were at least as rare as sensitives. Cullen was the only one she knew about. Sorcerers had an edge on other practitioners in that they could see the magic they worked with. According to Cullen, that was like the difference between an electrician who could see the wiring and one who couldn’t, but had a good idea of where the wires were supposed be.

Something had persuaded Hilliard to hold still while he was tattooed. She wasn’t ruling out the possibility he’d done so voluntarily, but considered that less likely than force or coercion. With force…lupi could be knocked out, and the evidence was hard to find afterward, given the way they healed. But it took a lot of force. A sleep charm would be easier.

Would it be more certain, too?

Lily was pulling out of the parking lot when Rule disconnected. “Do sleep charms work on lupi?” she asked.

“Yes. They don’t trigger our healing, since sleep is a natural state, so the effect is the same on us as it is on humans. Lily, we need to go to the jail.”

“We are. I want to talk with Chance. If sleep charms work on you, why aren’t they used when you need surgery?”

“They work, but not that comprehensively. Cullen’s charm won’t keep a lupus asleep through surgery. We’ve tried. Theoretically, someone could make a stronger sleep charm than Cullen can, but—”

“But I won’t tell him you said so.” She smiled to show she meant it. Cullen would return and she’d have the chance to avoid mentioning that, theoretically, someone might be better at one of the magical arts than he. “Tattoo needles don’t penetrate as far as a surgeon’s scalpel. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt enough to interfere with a sleep charm.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. A higher level of pain might break the charm. Cullen believes it’s the sheer disruption of surgery. Our healing takes no notice of spells, but it pays keen attention to our being cut open.”

“Nettie can put you in sleep deeply enough to last through surgery.”

“Nettie is a healer, and a Gift is always more effective than a spell-wrought effect. Plus, that particular skill of hers depends as much on the spiritual as the magical.”

Lily knew that, since Nettie had actually put her in sleep. It shouldn’t have worked. Magic did not affect her.

But Nettie’s version of it did. Lily chose not to think about that. She signaled for a turn. “Who was on the phone?”

“Hal Newman.”

“The defense attorney. He’s with, uh…Cone, Levy, Rayner and Newman.” She’d seen Newman in action once, though thankfully not on a case of hers. He was far too good at what he did.

“That’s right. My father uses their firm, and Hal is representing Jason. He’s arranged bond. Jason will be released as soon as Hal presents the necessary papers to the jailer.”

“That was fast.”

“Hal’s a good attorney. He’s meeting us at the jail. I need to be the first one into Jason’s cell.”

“What?” She glanced at him as she slowed. They’d reached the city jail, which was part of the local cop shop. “You know I can’t arrange that. They’ll have a guard bring him out.”

“Jason has been locked up for twenty-four hours. He is uncomfortable in small, enclosed spaces.”

Uh-oh. She should have thought of that. “As uncomfortable as you are?”

“Somewhat more so.”

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