Benedict’s face contorted in fury—but instead of launching himself at Cullen, he moved sideways, his head swinging between Cullen and Rule—who’d gotten to his feet. As Benedict retreated, Lucas shoved to his feet and his guard moved closer, making part of a loose circle around Benedict. That guard still clutched one arm to his chest. Broken, probably.
He’d be the weak point. He must know it. Benedict would, too. He might be mad with rage, but even a fear-maddened beast knows which predator is injured and weakened.
Lily held back. She for damn sure couldn’t fight Benedict, and if she—
“Benedict.” Rule’s voice was low, so deep it could almost have been Isen speaking. “Submit. Now.”
Again Benedict froze. It lasted a full second this time.
It might have lasted longer if Javier hadn’t shot in from one side and tackled him.
They went down together. Rule dove in, seizing one of his brother’s hands with both of his even as Javier reached for Benedict’s throat—and took a blow to his ribs from Benedict’s other hand. Lucas skidded onto his knees on Benedict’s other side, reaching for that arm. Rule shifted quickly, using his knee to pin Benedict’s forearm. He dug into his pocket, popped something in his mouth, took it out and reached for Benedict’s bare skin.
Benedict bucked so strongly he toppled Javier, who bumped into Rule, knocking him away. And something small and silver went spinning off to land near Billy’s motionless body.
With Javier dislodged and Rule off-balance, Benedict’s legs were free. He used them to kick to his feet in spite of Lucas’s grip—or maybe Lucas helped, because he used the motion to flip Benedict.
Benedict landed well, though, and was on his feet before Lucas could close. Rule had regained his feet, too, and the two of them circled Benedict.
“Stop it!” Arjenie cried from back at the car. “Stop now!”
Myron came up beside Lily. He imitated Cullen by lobbing a rock at Benedict. This one, though, Benedict simply caught—and hurled back.
Lily ducked. Myron yelled something. Benedict charged. Arjenie slapped her hand against the car’s rear window.
Lily felt the magic as it rolled past her, quick as a flash fire but somehow bruised, a hot, squishy sort of power prickling her skin. As it hit, people fell—Myron, Rule, Benedict, Lucas, the lone remaining guard. Arjenie, too. She collapsed into a small heap beside the car. Everyone but Lily—and Cullen. Who had shields, excellent shields, and who was staring at her in the same astonishment she felt.
Lily shook that off, took four running steps, and slid to her knees beside Benedict, who was supposed to be immune to his Chosen’s magic. Turned out that was wrong. Whatever Arjenie did when she combined her Gift with glass, it had hit Benedict along with the rest.
She licked the silver disk Cullen had given her and slapped it against Benedict’s bare chest. Then, for a moment, she just breathed … and noticed what she was touching. Mixed with the pine-and-fur of lupus magic was something oily. “Okay,” she said, looking around. Bodies everywhere. “Cullen? You okay?”
“Not seeing double anymore, which is a good sign.” He’d knelt beside one of the fallen. “Billy’s alive, but I think his neck’s broken. Potentially healable. Depends on his innate healing and the care he gets.”
“The others?”
“Gil’s dead. Checking on the rest.” He stood.
At some point in the past, Cullen had gone to medical school. Lily hoped he remembered enough. “Check the injured first. The ones knocked out by magic should …” Movement in her peripheral vision had her head swinging around.
The Leidolf guard had returned. Scott stood staring in horror about ten yards away—too distant to be affected by the blast from the glass, she guessed. “Check on Arjenie,” she snapped. “She’s next to the Lincoln. If she didn’t break anything when she fell”—unlikely, but best to check—“put her in the car and make her as comfortable as possible.”
“I—my Rho—”
“Is okay.” She thought. She hoped. “Move!”
He ran up to Arjenie.
“Edgar’s dead,” Cullen said flatly, rising from Edgar’s still body. “I think George twitched earlier, before Arjenie knocked everyone out.”
Oh, shit, oh, shit. The Wythe Rho. This was going to be bad. “We need to ask George some questions. Benedict didn’t go into the fury all by himself.”
“Didn’t think he did,” Cullen said curtly, moving to kneel beside George.
“She seems okay,” Scott called. “Out cold, but I didn’t find any injuries. Heartbeat’s strong.”
“Good. Soon as she’s settled in the car, come here and hold this charm on Benedict’s chest. Cullen, how long will it work?”
“Twenty to thirty minutes. He’ll come out slow, give us a chance to switch to a fresh one.” Cullen nodded at George, who wasn’t twitching now. “Broken jaw. Probably a concussion, too, but his pupils match. Good thing Benedict wasn’t trying to kill us.”
“Not funny. Do you have any idea how long Rule and the others will be out?”
“No. Rule should come around first, though.” Cullen rose. “He heals quick, and he’s got a full mantle, unlike the rest of them. That will help.” He headed for the Lincoln. “And I wasn’t joking. If Benedict had intended to kill instead of damage, we’d have more than two dead.”
“He didn’t have time,” Lily said dryly. Her arm was hurting. She hadn’t noticed it much in the middle of everything, but now it pulsed with pain in time with her heartbeat.
Stupid arm. It hadn’t done a damn thing.
“Cullen’s right,” said a groggy but welcome voice. Rule sat up slowly. “I believe you haven’t seen Benedict fight before.”
Lily had been told often that Benedict was the best fighter in the clans. That he was something special. She hadn’t known what that meant, not really. It was still hard to believe she’d seen what she’d seen. “Ten to one will keep even the best fighter busy.” Even if he cut it down to seven-to-one in the first three seconds.
“I wouldn’t say that he held back, exactly.” Rule grunted as he rose. “Damn, those ribs feel a lot worse now than they did with the adrenaline going.”
“Your ribs? Rule, if they’re broken—”
He waved that away with the hand that wasn’t clutching his side. “They’re not badly enough displaced to put my lungs in danger. He could have broken my back instead. He didn’t. He didn’t hold back, but some part of him found non-lethal blows.”
“Not in every case,” Cullen said grimly. He’d popped the trunk and was pulling out a large white case with a red cross on the front.
“Sir,” Scott said, trotting toward Rule. “Lily said to—”
“Then do as she told you.” Rule glanced at Cullen. “How many died?”
“Gil and Edgar.”
Rule’s face went tight. After a moment he said, “George is alive?”
“Unless he’s got injuries I didn’t spot, he should make it.”
“We need to talk to him.”
It sounded like Rule’s mind was running along the same track as Lily’s. “He did something, all right.” Scott settled to the ground on the other side of Benedict’s peacefully sleeping body. She let him take over as holder-of-the-charm and used her freed hand to reach into her shorts’ pocket. “Benedict’s coated in some kind of oily magic. I’m guessing it’s from one of Dya’s potions. It’s what was done to Cobb, but not administered in a drink.” She glanced at Cullen as she pulled out her phone. “Is there such a thing as a tactile potion?”