Eileen Wilks - Blood Lines

"Not if he's busy trying to kill us… though I suppose we might find a way to cure him of it. Or She may be able to. But why bother? She only needs the sensitive."

"It may be years before She locates the Codex and can copy it. In the meantime, She's shut out of this realm, and our power is limited."

They were after the Codex. No surprise that the Great Bitch was aware of its return, but what did that have to do with Lily?

Cordoba stroked her arm. "You hope to find something in the Codex to free yourself, don't you, queridal It's not possible, but you'll work so hard to find it. And when you do, you'll tell me."

"Don't gloat, sugar. It makes your eyes look beady." Jiri shifted the sleeping child gently, moving her to her other shoulder. She saw Rule watching and gave him a lazy smile. "Poor Rule. He's so confused. Why don't we explain it all to him? I think he deserves to know."

Cordoba cracked a small smile. "What did he do to make you so angry? If it amuses you, though…" His hand drifted to her ass. "You see how good I can be to you?"

She laughed low in her throat. "You're good for many things, Tommy. Maybe I will forgive you for the binding… eventually." She tilted her head, looking at Rule again. "You weren't surprised when I mentioned the Codex."

"You aren't the only one who knows about it."

"You see, Tommy?" she said without looking away from Rule. "There's information we wouldn't have had if we'd killed him right away. Do you want to know why we need Lily, Rule Turner?"

His mouth was dry. "Yes."

"It's the goddess who needs her, actually. Apparently the Codex is guarded in some way that will make it difficult to access once it's in Her possession. So She needs to make a copy, one without the built-in defenses. But it seems there's only one… what shall we call it? Receptacle. Only one type of receptacle suitable to hold the Codex Arcanum. A sensitive with her mind wiped clean—"

"—not going to tell you again, Turner," Cordoba was saying. "I've no pressing reason not to kill you now. Jiri may think She has some use for you, but I doubt it. I'd have her get Tish to do it. He likes to pull things apart."

The side of Rule's head, from crown to jaw, ached fiercely. His brain felt like mush, and his shoulders were on fire… because he was hanging inches off the ground, held up by the demon's grip on his arms.

He'd been struck, he realized through the fog of pain. He must have done something, tried to get at Cordoba.

And failed. They were going to wipe Lily's mind clean, and he'd failed her. Again. He closed his eyes and could have sworn he smelled the stale, dry air of hell. For a moment he was there in that moonless realm once more, and losing the moon's song was like losing breath yet still living. He hadn't died. He'd kept going, kept trying to breathe when there was no air for his soul—

"Rule?" Lily's voice was urgent.

He shuddered back to the present. "I'm…" His voice came out slurred. He'd bitten his tongue when he was hit, and it was swollen. He swallowed bloody saliva. "I'm okay. More or less."

Abruptly his feet hit the ground, landing hard enough that his knees started to buckle.

Cordoba looked at Jiri. "I didn't tell you to have Tish lower him."

Jiri wasn't looking at him, but behind Rule and his mountainous captor. "I saw something moving. I thought—"

He took two steps and slapped her hard enough to rock her back a step. "You didn't ask. Thinking is fine—I encourage you to think—but always ask, Jiri. Always."

Blood dripped from her lip, badly split from his blow. She looked at him without expression. The little girl in her arms never stirred. "Two of them got away. They could be circling back."

"Very well. We should make sure of them. But I want Tish here." He glanced over his shoulder. The two red-eyes rose and loped off.

The others weren't all dead. Two had gotten away. Hope stirred in Rule—and so did the mantles. Already restless, they seemed to be pulling at him as if they wanted something of him. Action, yes, they wanted him to take action… but it felt as if there was a specific action he should take.

"My arms are tired," Jiri said abruptly.

"Already weary of motherhood, queridaT

"My arms ache." She bent, placing the little girl carefully on the ground, making sure the blanket stayed wrapped around her.

"We'll be going inside in a moment anyway. I don't think the others are out there—the tzmai haven't found them, and I don't hear anything." Cordoba looked at the winged creature. "I suppose I should send Melli up to make sure."

"Best secure the sorcerer first. Make sure he isn't feigning unconsciousness." Jiri rubbed her arms, then sauntered toward Lily, Cynna, and their guards.

"I don't think I'll keep him," Cordoba said. "Too much trouble."

"As you wish, of course. But if the bindings I've been working on prove effective—"

"You think you can bind him, even without his cooperation?" That caught Cordoba's attention. "You've made some progress, but the woman used to be your apprentice. You've no such entry with the sorcerer."

"It will take awhile," she agreed. "You may not wish me to spend so much time on the project. But at least I won't have to work on him astrally, as I did with Cynna. And if we remove his hands and tongue, he shouldn't be too troublesome a guest.",

"He'll grow them back… but we could keep removing them until you had him bound."

"Or until I find that I can't bind him." She stopped in front of Cynna. "Such loathing," she said lightly. "But aren't you happy to find you were right? Aside from a lingering case of maternal devotion, I am evil." She looked at Cordoba. "Shall we see if my binding works with this one? We can always shoot her if it doesn't."

Bile rose in Rule's throat, burning. So did rage: hard, red, and caustic. He needed to—had to—

Change. He had to Change.

He shook his head. It wouldn't help. He'd be free of the demon's grip, yes—nothing could hold on to him during the Change. But the disorientation was too strong for the first second or two immediately afterward. The demon would simply grab him again before he could move.

"Yes," Cordoba said decisively. "If it doesn't work, I won't bother keeping the sorcerer. If it does, though… go ahead. See what you can do with her."

"I'll need her hand." She held hers out.

"You're lying," Cynna said, her head high. "You can't bind me without my consent."

"I made you ride, didn't I?" Jiri looked at the guards. "Well? I need her right hand. Find some other way to secure her while I work."

"Do it," Cordoba said.

One of the guards held a gun to Cynna's head while the other one unfastened the handcuffs and jerked her left arm into a modified half nelson.

"Hold out your hand, Cynna," Jiri said.

"Go to hell, Jiri."

Jiri made an impatient noise. "Tommy, I need Beecher to hold her hand out and steady for me. Surely one guard is sufficient for the sensitive."

"No. By now she realizes we don't want to kill her. She might try something."

"She's handcuffed. Make her lie down on her stomach and threaten her lover if she moves."

Cordoba hesitated, but gave the orders. Rule was beginning to wonder… Jiri was bound to the man, but she was twice as smart. She seemed to be getting everything she wanted from him.

A few moments later Lily lay on her stomach in the dead grass. One of the Az& still guarded her, but the other fought to bring Cynna's arm forward. It took him a few moments, but he managed to hold her hand out, palm up.

"Good." Jiri rested her own hand on top of Cynna's. "Be ready to hold her up," she added. "She'll probably collapse."

"You didn't," Cordoba said.

"I consented." Jiri closed her eyes. She whispered something in that other language, the words soft and singsong. Cynna's eyes widened—then rolled back in her head. She went limp.