Eileen Wilks - Ritual Magic

“Scott reacted immediately.”

“Yes.” Rule scrubbed his face again. “Maybe because you’ve worked with him, unlike the others. If I’d had some of your people with me—if the guards had been Nokolai instead of Leidolf—”

“Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. No point in dwelling on it. Scott’s reaction proves you’ve got your best man in charge. That’s good.”

“Being in charge means he feels this failure, too, but he isn’t to blame.”

“No. He isn’t. I taught him what I teach Nokolai guards. Their first priority is always the Rho. Second is the life of their Lu Nuncio. When Scott signaled for only one guard to stay with Nettie, he was doing what he’d been taught.” Benedict paused. “What I taught him.”

“Good,” Arjenie said.

Rule stared at her in outrage. Benedict simply looked astonished.

“It’s about time you two talked about why you blame yourselves. Neither of you has any good reason to do so, but I’m not going to argue with you. I know very well it won’t help. No one is going to oblige either of you by ripping you up so you can bleed out your guilt like you’re planning to do to poor Andy, but you can at least figure out that you don’t blame each other.”

“Benedict doesn’t blame himself,” Rule said. “He wasn’t even there.”

Arjenie snorted. “You cannot have been his brother all these years without noticing that there is no end to what Benedict can blame himself for. He thinks it’s his fault because of how he trains the guards, plus he wasn’t there, proving that he isn’t psychic. And you think it’s your fault because you didn’t see the threat in time, plus you failed the psychic pop quiz, too.”

Benedict and Rule looked at each other uneasily. “I should have kept two guards on Nettie,” Rule said.

Benedict stole a quick glance at his mate. “I think that falls under Arjenie’s psychic quiz. You couldn’t have known. You did what duty requires. You’re heir to one clan, Rho to another. Duty requires you to be guarded.”

“And duty requires you to train the guards to keep me alive. Dammit to hell.”

“Yeah.” Benedict sucked in a slow breath that shuddered on the way out. “I should call our father again. Nothing to report, but he’s got the hardest wait, back at . . . what is it?”

Rule had straightened, his head turning. “Lily’s here. Not just at the hospital, but on this floor. It surprised me because I hadn’t noticed. Her experience of the mate-sense is more acute than mine, but normally I’d notice before this.”

Arjenie reached across Benedict to squeeze Rule’s hand. “Things are not normal. I’m glad she’s here.”

So was he. “We haven’t heard anything from Sam yet.” Lily would be stretched so taut by her own long wait . . .

“No, and that has to be hard on her. But it’s better to wait together.”

Rule heard Lily speaking to Scott in the hall and stood. A moment later Lily walked in, walked straight to Rule, and put her arms around him.

Something held tight inside him unclenched. The sudden loss of tension left a dull smear of pain in its wake. His closed eyes stung. He’d needed this. Needed her, and now she was here. They leaned into each other. He inhaled deliberately, breathing her in.

She smelled of coffee and Lily, with citrus notes from her shampoo and almond from the lotion she’d applied after her shower. Also the tinny, astringent odor of anxiety.

Rule’s wolf did not consider fear and anxiety the same emotion. Their scents were from the same family, but quite distinct, just as roses do not smell like violets. Fear was more sour, anxiety more bitter. Wolves consider fear a healthy emotion, but anxiety makes them . . . anxious. Rule immediately tried to soothe Lily, stroking a hand up her back.

It was like stroking a guitar string. Tight, tight, from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck, and when he started to knead those tense muscles, she pulled away. She stretched out both hands to his brother, who’d finally abandoned his chair to stand. “Benedict.” He took her hands and she told him, “You’re okay.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Am I?”

“Yes. You’re okay and Nettie’s going to be okay.” She spoke with suppressed ferocity, as if her will alone would make it so . . . or make Benedict believe it.

Benedict’s expression didn’t change. “You’ve learned something.”

“A few things. No trail to follow yet. And I can’t talk about the parts we do know, not here. Too public. They’re going to—”

“Agent Yu?” A man in a very nice charcoal-colored suit stood in the doorway. “I’ve spoken with your, ah—with your man out in the hall, as you requested. We have the room ready. If you’d follow me?”

“Of course.” Lily looked tense and tired and a trifle smug as she explained. “The hospital has agreed to let us use a small lounge. We’ll be the only ones there, so I can discuss confidential matters.”

Benedict frowned. “Will the surgeon know where to find us?”

The man in the suit answered. “I will personally make sure of that.”

“Mr. Reddings is the executive assistant who works directly under the hospital’s president,” Lily said. “He knows how to make sure.”

“Kind of them to offer us the use of this lounge,” Arjenie said as they left the crowded waiting room. Scott was clearly expecting the shift; he fanned his men out, half in front, half behind, as the four of them followed Mr. Reddings.

“They were supposed to offer it to you two hours ago. I called and explained about the security issue—someone could drop in and try to kill some or all of you, and wouldn’t it be a shame if they gunned down a few innocent bystanders in the process? I should’ve done that right away. I didn’t think of it.” She shook her head at this omission. “The admin guy I spoke to agreed it would be best to park you someplace private, but on the way here, I found out that hadn’t happened. Seems the only private spot is the VIP lounge, and some multirich bastard was using it while his wife had various bits lifted and tucked. He didn’t want to leave. The admin guy didn’t feel up to making that happen.”

“No doubt you were persuasive,” Rule said.

“I wasn’t in a persuasive mood. I sicced Ida on them.”

“Poor souls,” Arjenie said. “Have you ever been present while she removed some unsuspecting roadblock?”

“A time or two.” Lily exchanged a knowing look with Arjenie. “Mr. Reddings here was waiting for me when I arrived. He’s been very helpful.”

Lily did not hold Rule’s hand as they proceeded to the elevator. She seldom did when she was in cop mode. She had, he thought, been in cop mode ever since her mother looked at her and didn’t know who she was.

And that was the problem. Not that she was shutting him out. Oh, he did not like that, but he’d already noted the pettiness of his reaction, hadn’t he? The real problem was that she was shutting herself out, too. That was why she reeked so of anxiety. She’d been jamming her emotions down, down, ignoring them, shoving them aside. Sometimes you had to do that, but you couldn’t keep it up for too long. If you did, something broke inside you.

That kind of break healed slowly, and not always well.

Rule knew what Lily needed. She needed to fall apart, and soon. If she’d been one of his men, he’d see to that. It would be both his right and his duty. But she wasn’t, and he’d vowed not to try to make her choices for her anymore.

What would his father do? Could he use that wily old manipulator as a standard?

Rule thought about dragons and sovereignty and his father as everyone but the guards stepped into the elevator. Six of them. Six people in that small, cramped space. The elevator doors closed and his heartbeat skyrocketed and his mouth went dry . . .