Only Human

Chapter 11

DID SHE TRULY want what Rule thought she did?

Off and on for the rest of the day, Lily tried to answer that question. She knew what she needed—to stop a killer. Make an arrest. Turn up proof that would stand up in court. She'd play by the Lupois's rules for now and ask none of the questions burning in her, and hope he cooperated in turn.

But how far did she want his cooperation to go? Was she willing to let Rule put his life on the line in order to get to the truth? Because that's what that whole Lu Nuntius business amounted to.

In the normal course of things she didn't have a lupus lie detector along on interviews, and she did okay. So what if she had to handle things the hard way here? Cops dealt with lying or reluctant witnesses all the time.

But if she didn't find out who had betrayed the Lupois to the other clan, Rule's father would. Once he was well enough, he would look for the traitor himself, and his justice would be final—and administered by his son. There wasn't a thing Lily could do to stop it, either, if she couldn't find the guilty party first. Not if they fought in wolf form. Killing a lupus in wolf form wasn't murder.

Lily was really growing to hate that law.

After they finished their coffee, Rule changed clothes. He wore blue for her, as he'd promised—denim blue. A ragged pair of cutoffs. He looked magnificent in them, especially since he didn't wear a shirt. Or shoes, for that matter, but neither did most of the people she met that day. Lily felt seriously overdressed, but wasn't about to leave her gun behind. Since most people found a gun out in plain view distracting, she kept the jacket on.

Clanhome was a shock of toppled preconceptions.

Lily had pictured a patriarchal, heavily masculine society. Everyone knew lupi were always male and didn't marry. She'd expected to see a few women who were kept around to have babies, lend the children, cook, and clean. That's how men all over the world arranged things when they could, wasn't it?

By lunch, she'd met Rule's uncle and one of his brothers, his first grade teacher, three of Paul's friends, several dogs, and an assortment of lupi... and Nokolai. That was a surprise, though it shouldn't have been: they were all Nokolai, but only some were lupi. Because only about two-thirds of the clan was male.

When she made a rather foolish comment on the number of girls and women she saw, Rule said, "What did you think we did with our girl children? Drown them? Expose them at birth on a hillside?"

She learned that between 350 and 450 people lived at Clan-home at any given time. There wasn't enough work here to support everyone, so some officially lived here but had jobs that kept them away a lot. Others lived and worked on the clan's ranch to the north, and the rest were scattered all over— how many that might be, she didn't find out. Most Nokolai came, when they could, to the gatherings held on the winter and summer solstices. And many of those who didn't live here themselves sent their children to stay for part of the summer... and their adolescent boys for much longer. To learn to control the beast.

Lily saw a lot of children that day. The only wolf she saw was the one that had been sitting with the teenage girl when she and Rule first arrived.

She visited the daycare center, which was attached to the clubhouse. The center was run by an older woman in a wheel-chair named Oralie Fortier, and staffed by volunteers—which meant pretty much every adult at Clanhome. These people were nuts about kids. While Lily was there Ms. Fortier had to settle an argument about whose turn it was to work in the baby room—three people wanted to, and there were only two babies there at the time.

Two of the three insisting it was their turn with the babies were men.

The clubhouse had pool tables, a weight room, a smaller room where dance and gymnastics were taught, a kitchen, and a library. It was the only place on the grounds with television. When they left it, heading for the school across a lightly wooded section, Lily quit fighting herself and tucked her hand into Rule's.

He gave her a smile of such startling sweetness that her heart turned over. A second later, the panic hit.

She was in love with him.

No. No, this wasn't love, it was some kind of physical obsession created by incredible sex. Or magic. Whatever it was, though, it couldn't be love. She'd known him less than a week. He wasn't human, for God's sake. Besides, she'd been in love before, and this—this whatever she felt was different.

Deeper. Stronger.

Lily was thoroughly shaken when they reached the school, a U-shaped building with a courtyard in the center. There Rule excused himself, saying he needed to talk to his uncle. He dropped a kiss on her lips and left her with his first grade teacher.

Arthur Madoc was another surprise—a tall, narrow man with a gentle smile and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. He'd taught first grade for forty-seven years. The school itself reminded her of country schoolhouses she'd read about, with kindergarten in one room, grades one and two in another, and third and fourth graders sharing the third room. After fourth grade, Mr. Madoc told her, the children had to go into town.

Classes in various subjects were offered during the summer. Today twelve kids agedsix to ninewere there for art lessons. The wilderness studies group, she was told, had already left the building.

Lily joined the budding artists, who were experimenting with print-making. She dipped leaves, twigs, and sponges in

paint and dabbed them on paper. She helped other artists dip things and admired the results. And she asked questions.

After her shock had worn off, she'd realized she had more than one investigation to make.

One of the little girls wanted to be an airline pilot like her mother when she grew up. One wanted to be a doctor. Another thought she'd do something with computers, while a third couldn't decide between building houses like her uncle or being a movie star.

More of Lily's preconceptions toppled quietly. "What about babies?" she asked casually, daubing her sponge in canary yellow paint. "Or getting married? Do you think about doing that, too?"

"That shade of yellow won't work with purple," the budding actress said critically. More patiently, the would-be physician told her, "Not everyone gets to be a mommy, so you can't plan on having babies. Unless you want to marry out," she added, and her expression made it clear she considered that a poor choice.

"Not always," the computer enthusiast said with the air of correcting a small logic error. "Sophie Duquesne mated with a man from Rachmanov Clan."

The future pilot rolled her eyes. "Like that's going to happen. We were talking about plans. You can't plan to mate. That's like planning to win the lottery. My dad says—"

"Time to finish up," Mr. Madoc said pleasantly. "It's pastnoon."

The builder's niece had been right about the yellow. It didn't look good with the purple.

When Nettie came to get her, Lily wasn't surprised to learn that Rule's uncle, not his aunt, had cooked lunch. She was surprised, though, when those she sat down to lunch with included Rule's five-year-old son, Johnny. And Johnny's mother.

"I'M NOT UPSET with him for not telling me," Lily said, handing the bright blue plate she'd just washed to Nettie, then plunging her hands back in the soapy water. "Not exactly. He doesn't owe me his life story, and besides, I knew he had children. I'd dug into his background in the course of my investigation."

"But you are upset." Nettie stacked the dried plate on top of the others in the oak cabinet. "I suppose it's one thing to know something professionally, another to unexpectedly sit down to lunch with the mother of your lover's child."

That was putting things bluntly. "It's the way he did it. Just like the way he let me arrive at his grandfather's house without telling me Paul would be there. He's putting me through some kind of tests, and I don't like it."

Nettie didn't answer.

The two of them were alone in Nettie's small, cheerful kitchen. Lily had offered to help clean up after lunch. Somewhat to her surprise, Nettie had accepted right away and delegated the washing to her. Everyone else had left after they ate, with Johnny and his mother going home with her friend, Paul to his grandfather's, and Rule's uncle back to work at the vineyard.

Rule had said he needed to talk to a few people. "You can't come with me," he'd told her. "I'm sorry, but they won't speak freely if you're there. I'll tell you what I learn."

"Will you?" She'd studied him gravely. "People hold things back. They want to protect those they care about, and tell themselves whatever they're hiding couldn't really matter." Instinct, culture, history—all would shriek at him not to reveal too much to an outsider. To human authority.

He'd hesitated. She'd had the idea he was weighing his response, making sure he could speak the truth. "I'll tell you," he'd repeated.

Nettie stacked the last of the plates. "I take it Rule hasn't told you a lot about Johnny and Paul."

"He hasn't told me anything." Lily scrubbed hard on the pot in her hand. "I didn't know they lived here. I didn't know Johnny's mother was Nokolai."

"Johnny and Belinda do live here, but Paul is just staying for the summer. In August he'll return to his mother inWashington. She's a reporter for CNN."

Good grief. Rule's former lover, the mother of one of his sons, was a reporter? "That's almost as tricky for him as having a relationship with a cop."

"Almost," Nettie agreed cheerfully. "Has it been difficult for you, balancing your professional duties with your feelings for Rule?"

Lily took a moment to think about her answer, rinsing the pot thoroughly. Nettie should have been a cop. She was alarmingly good at getting people to talk. "He and I haven't known each other long, and for most of that time our relationship was professional. It turned personal very suddenly."

"Did it? Still, I can understand if you were uncomfortable today. Our customs are different from what you're used to."

That was certainly true. Lily grinned. "I think I would have been a lot more uncomfortable if Belinda hadn't been accompanied by the gorgeous Dede." The two women had, quite obviously, been a couple.

Nettie smiled. "I'm glad you're tolerant. Not everyone is."

"Really?" She rinsed the lid, handed it to Nettie, and opened the drain. "I had the impression this was an accepted and long-standing relationship."

Nettie shrugged. "Long-standing, yes. And lupi don't consider much about sex truly sinful. But relationships such as Belinda and Dede have are discouraged."

"Why?"

"Customs usually evolve for a reason," she said vaguely, turning to put away the last of the silverware. "Dede and Belinda are good together, though, so most accept them. It's not like having a true mate, of course—but then, few are that lucky."

"True mate." Lily thought of the little girls she'd met. "Is that like true love?"

"Something like that. You seemed to enjoy yourself at the school. I thought you might like to join the group learning woodcraft for a while this afternoon. Nick is leading them. He's our woodsman."

"Sure." Lily dried her hands. She knew when she was being herded out of the way. For now, she didn't mind. It wouldn't stop her from seeking answers. "Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"

"Will it stop you if I do?"

Probably not. "I wondered how you felt about—well, the way your husband turns furry sometimes. Does it bother you?"

"Not in the way you mean. I'm a little envious. It would be wonderful to experience the world as vividly as they do." She shrugged. "But it's a guy thing, isn't it?"

A guy thing. Lily grinned and dried her hands, but her grin

soon faded. "Nettie... what happens if a Lu Nuntius doesn't do what he's told by his Lupois?"

"I've never heard of such a thing occurring." Nettie smoothed lotion over her hands and held out the bottle. "Want some?"

Sometimes you let a subject get away with evading the question. Sometimes you didn't. "What would happen if one did?"

Nettie sighed. "At best, he would be banished. Not allowed at Clanhome. He would cease to exist to other Nokolai."

Lily didn't have to ask what the worst would be. She could guess.

The lupi had such final concepts of discipline.