He arrived first, ducking as Merilee swung at him with her free hand. He grabbed the arm clamped around Frey's throat and threw himself back, pulling all of them off balance.
They'd just started to topple when Cynna collided with a confusion of legs. She glimpsed shaved skin on a shapely calf and smashed the vial against it.
Merilee howled. A heavy weight landed on Cynna's back, smashing her to the floor. Her breath whooshed out. Someone yelled. Feet thudded down the hall. A sledgehammer hit the side of her head, and everything went black.
SEVENTEEN
THAT afternoon, Lily developed a deeper appreciation for the problems of working parents.
Right after Cullen left, she did, too, heading for the Secret Service's headquarters on Murray Drive. She wanted everything they had on the perp they'd tagged for demonic dealings. She wanted copies of whatever they'd learned about Jiri and the others on the list Cynna had given her, too.
She struck out. The two men she'd worked with still wouldn't tell her a damned thing, so she insisted on being passed up the food chain to the assistant chief muckety-muck. He made her wait, then made vague promises of cooperation, claiming he wanted to help but had to clear it "at the highest level" first. But his face and body language said he'd die and rot before he gave freaks like her and the others in the Unit one jot of information.
She wondered if the presidential adviser would take her phone call, maybe goose the jerk a bit. Didn't hurt to try, she decided, so she called Ida on the way back to the row house, requesting the number. Ida wouldn't give it to her.
So Lily wasn't in the best of moods when she headed back to the row house. Next up was a meet with the task force at five, and she wanted Rule there. They'd have questions about the lupi's ancient enemy and Her role in the demons sprouting up like spring flowers. Plus he needed to get the last of the poison removed, and at least two of the task force members should be able to handle that.
But Toby was there—scrubbing the kitchen floor, at the moment, as penance.
"I don't see why he can't come with us," she said for the second time.
"To FBI headquarters." He was incredulous.
"It's secure."
"And what do you plan to do with him? You don't have an office to park him in—not that I'd recommend that, anyway. The number of things a kid his age can get into—"
"Like an airplane, but he managed to get here okay, didn't he? He's a bright kid."
"He's a bright eight-year-old. Last summer he decided to make a pair of wings modeled after da Vinci's sketches. I found out before he tested them, thank God."
"Maybe we can find someone there to keep an eye on him while we talk to the task force."
"Ruben, maybe?"
"Very good." She nodded. "You don't have anything reasonable to say, so you use sarcasm."
"Reasonable. You think it's reasonable to insist I leave my son—"
"Have I once said you should leave him?"
"—with strangers because you're determined to manage my life. You don't trust me to take care of my leg. You don't trust a solution you haven't come up with yourself, so—"
"Waiting is not a solution!" That's what he'd suggested—that he wait until the bodyguards arrived to deal with his wound.
"—you want to drag me with you and make sure it's done on your schedule."
She flushed. "I do have other priorities, like trying to find out how these demons are being summoned and who's behind it. Plus the task force needs to know about the conclusions we've drawn and the goddess we don't name."
"So go."
She stared at him a long moment, then shoved her hair back with both hands. "Why are we arguing? Do you even know why? I don't."
"I'm arguing because my hip hurts and I'm an ass. You're arguing because you're worried about me. And because I'm an ass."
"At least there's a good reason." She went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He put his arms around her, too, and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Within a few breaths, they were okay again.
"You didn't mention the other reason we were fighting," she said.
"Which is… ?"
"The way I turn into a control freak when I'm scared."
"Oh, that. I was being tactful."
She snorted. "If we don't—" The doorbell chimed. She repressed a sigh. The world never gave them much time before poking its nose in. "Guess we should see who that is."
"We should," he agreed without moving.
Feet thudded on the stairs. "I'll get it!" Toby called.
"No, you won't," Rule said, disengaging and starting for the stairs.
Lily headed for the door. "Have you told him what's going on?"
"Not yet. I will as soon as I see who our caller is. Toby, go back upstairs."
Lily didn't listen to the argument that followed. She'd applied her eye to the peephole again and received an even bigger shock than finding Cullen on her doorstep. After a stunned pause, she unlocked and opened the door.
This time it was two women who stood there, both Chinese.
One was middle-aged, plain, and wore a simple dark-blue pantsuit with a wool jacket. The other was old, tiny, and as proudly erect as a queen. Her black hair was winged with white and drawn into a ruthless bun; her dress was crimson and reached her ankles; her jacket was quilted silk of many colors.
Lily sighed. "Grandmother. Of course you would show up now."
"You are not moving aside so we may come in," Li Lei Yu pointed out severely.
Automatically Lily complied.
Grandmother brushed past. "Our bags are in the car. Your Rule Turner may see to them. Do you still have that cat?"
Grandmother was using English instead of insisting Lily speak Chinese. No doubt that was meant to convey some sort of message, but Lily was in no mood to decode it. "Harry's around someplace. Grandmother, why have you—"
"Not now," she said, giving the living room a disapproving eye. "Ugly. I suppose that is not your fault, however."
Li Qin paused on the threshold to give Lily an apologetic smile. "The limousine driver can bring in the bags, Lily. Are you well?"
"Mostly." She watched, resigned to her fate, as her grandmother seated herself on the sofa. Her feet didn't reach the floor.
"I will need a footstool," the old woman announced, "but later. I have been in airplanes and airports for seventy-two hours. You have no Christmas tree."
"We expected to go home for Christmas, so we didn't put one up. Grandmother—"
"Your plans have changed? Ha! I am not surprised," she said darkly. "Later you will tell me. Now you may tell me where my room is. Li Qin will wish to go to her room, also. We have eaten. Abominable food, but we do not require a meal."
Lily's conscience nipped at her. It was easy to forget that Grandmother was old. She sat as erect as ever, but the skin around her eyes looked bruised with fatigue.
But why exhaust herself so? Why had Grandmother cut her trip short and flown here instead of home to San Diego? "Upstairs," she said automatically. "Your room will be upstairs. But, ah, we weren't expecting you, and we have to—"
"Madam Yu," Rule said, entering with Toby trailing behind. Toby hung back in the doorway while Rule crossed the room. He bent, taking the old woman's hand to press a kiss there. "You honor us. May I present to you my son, Toby Asteglio?"
Grandmother gave an approving nod. "You may. You are Toby," she informed the boy. "You may greet me."
Toby gave his father a panicky glance but came forward a few steps, offered a jerky little bow, and said, "Madam Yu. H-how do you do?"
"I am well, thank you. Do you stay here, also?"
He nodded uncertainly. "I wasn't supposed to, and I'm in trouble about it."
"I will teach you to play mah-jongg. You will not enjoy it at first because I will win, but you will like it later, when you find players you can defeat. Lily." She turned imperious black eyes on her granddaughter. "I have much to say to you and Rule Turner, but I will rest first. Why are you not at work?"