Eileen Wilks - Blood Lines

Even she knew that much. "Black magic."

Croft shook his head. "Not necessarily. Many practices ban blood magic, but that's mostly because of the temptation it presents, not because using blood in a spell is inherently evil. The Catholic Church—pretty much the expert on good and evil— tacitly acknowledges that. Their transubstantiation doctrine is based on the power of blood."

"Keep translating," Lily said. "Transubstantiation?"

"The belief that the communion wine literally becomes Je-sus's blood." He nodded at Cynna. "No offense."

"None taken." She looked at Lily. "I wish I could've gotten here faster."

Croft's voice was very dry. "You had a premonition, I understand."

"Ah…" Cynna shoved her hands in her pockets. "Not exactly."

"What exactly happened, then?" Lily's voice was sharp. Too sharp, maybe, considering that Cynna might have saved Rule's life.

"It's complicated. Make that weird. Majorly weird." She puffed air through pursed lips, annoyed. "And it doesn't have anything to do with finding whoever sent the demon."

Croft shook his head. "You know you can't leave it at that."

She gave him a dirty look. "All right, all right. I, uh, was contacted by someone. She told me I'd better Find you quick, which turned out to be right."

"Who? Who told you that?"

"She didn't give me a name, but I think maybe it was… you know. Her. The one the lupi talk about. And now I'm going to call it a night, so—"

Lily grabbed her arm. "Wait one minute. If you were contacted by the goddess who wants to destroy the lupi—"

"Not that Her!" Cynna shook off Lily's hand. "Holy hell, but there's too many unnamed deities messing around lately. There's the one we don't name because it might draw Her attention, and the one the lupi call the Lady—that's who I meant. She showed up… well, not in person, but there was this voice. It was… I don't know how to describe it, but I've never heard anything like her voice. I was in a church," she added, aggrieved. "Praying, or trying to. And not to her."

Lily stared. 'The Rhej was right."

"She was not, and I'm not talking about it anymore."

"Rhej?" Croft's eyebrows lifted. "Who is that, and what was she right about?"

Lily felt Rule drawing closer. "There's no real human analogue, but a Rhej is like a clan's priestess or historian. The Noko-lai Rhej thinks Cynna is her successor. Which sounds crazy, but if the Lady has started talking to Cynna—"

"I don't know that's who it was," Cynna insisted. "I'm just guessing. And it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not Nokolai. I'm Catholic."

"The two aren't necessarily at odds," Rule said as he joined them. He'd pulled his clothes back on after resuming the shape they were made to cover. His slacks and shirt were wrinkled, his tie missing, and he was probably exhausted.

On him, it all looked good. Slightly debauched, maybe, but sexy.

Cynna shot him an angry look. "I suppose you heard what I said."

He nodded. "I'm not going to pressure you. The matter lies between you and the Lady. But you should know she speaks very, very rarely, and only to those who are or will become a Rhej."

Cynna hunched her shoulders as if she could deflect his words that way, jamming her hands deeper in her pockets. Or maybe she was just cold. Lily sure was.

Not as cold as Paul. At least they'd covered him now.

"Damn," Croft said, looking off to the side. "The TV people found us." He grimaced. "I'd better see if I can get this spun right before they have demons attacking people all over the capital."

"Better you than me," Lily said.

"I'll tell the EMTs they can get the body loaded. If they do it while the press is busy hounding me, maybe the ghouls won't get any good shots." .

It was a small dignity to offer, but Lily was glad he'd thought of it. As he walked away, she looked at Rule. "You reached your father?"

"I talked to the Rho." Rule sometimes spoke of Isen Turner as if he were two people—the man who'd fathered him, and the one who ruled his clan. "He's not pleased."

"Because his son was nearly killed? Or because the one who did get killed was Leidolf, and that will complicate things?"

"Yes. To both."

The muscles of Rule's face were drawn too tightly over the elegant architecture beneath. His eyes were unhappy. If Paul's death weighed on her, how much heavier did it sit on Rule's shoulders? The susmussio had still been in place.

She laid a hand on his arm. "How many bodyguards is he sending?"

His smile was quick and brief. "You surprise me, nadia." He didn't say whether he meant by her question or her touch. Maybe the latter. She usually tried to keep the touching down in public. "I don't know yet how many will be shadowing my every footstep, but you're right. He insists on guards. Benedict will call me later with the details."

When he wasn't busy being a legend among the clans, Benedict had charge of Nokolai security. "Every once in a while your father and I agree." Reluctantly—for the contact comforted her, too—she let go of his arm.

"You're tired," he said.

Once the adrenaline drained out, tired was inevitable. "What about you? That thing got in one good swipe. Are you sure the paramedics shouldn't have a look?"

He waved that notion away. "It's a big scratch, that's all. Will you be much longer?"

It wasn't a scratch by human standards, but the demon's claws hadn't ripped deeply into the muscle. Rule would heal it quickly. "Hard to say. Croft can handle the scene, but…" She shrugged.

"But you want to be here if they find anything."

"Don't you?"

He looked aside. The EMTs were loading Paul's body on a gurney. "What I want is for that damned thing to be alive again so I can kill it." Abruptly, he walked away.

Cynna said tentatively, "The guy who was killed was a friend?"

Had Paul been a friend? His clan was Nokolai's enemy. She'd only known him for a few hours, yet she'd saved his life once. Then she'd watched a demon drink his blood. He'd fought for them. Died helping them. "It's complicated," she said at last. "But he mattered."

"Complicated." Cynna's head tilted to one side. "Seems like that's what I said earlier."

"You switched to 'majorly weird.'" But Cynna was right. She deserved a description of the night's events, if not a full explanation… which Lily didn't have. "We were at the Kennedy Center when some kind of magic swept through the place. It was strong and… different. It forced the Change on Paul…" Her throat tightened around a wad of emotions.

If only she'd hit the damned thing more than once! Another bullet or two in its body might have slowed it, and if it had been a little slower… "He was onstage, one of the performers. A tenor. After we sorted things out there, it was late, so Rule offered him a ride home. That's how we ended up here."

Cynna frowned. "When did this magical surge happen?"

"Just before ten."

"I felt something around then—a jolt of power, way more than any stray sorceri. I had to drain some of it off."

Lily's brows rose. "Where were you?"

"Maybe fifteen blocks from here. Nowhere near the Kennedy Center."

A magical wind that covered the whole city? "What could have caused that?"

Cynna shrugged. "I'm not a theory person. You need Cullen. He's nuts for theory."

"I don't have him. Cynna…" There wasn't a tactful way to ask, so she might as well spit it out. "Do you think your old teacher might be involved? The one you knew when you were with the Dizzies?"

Cynna looked unhappy. "Can't say. You've been investigating another summoning."

"I've been connected to an investigation," Lily said dryly. "I wouldn't say I'd been allowed to investigate. But yes, it's quite a coincidence, only I can't see any connection. Except…" She wasn't supposed to discuss the case's conclusion, but she knew Cynna could keep her mouth shut. "They did find out who did it."