Rule chuckled. "I'm not keeping this one for you."
The way the house was laid out they had to go through the parlor and dining room to get to the kitchen; Rule was still grinning as they reached it.
Lily was pacing, her cell phone held to her ear. Her eyes flashed up. She grimaced. "I know, but… no, I didn't. I didn't say that. Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go."
She disconnected.
Rule cocked an eyebrow at her. She gave a tiny shake of her head, then said to the rest of them, "My sister. My older sister," she added with a grimace, as if that explained something.
"Problems?" Cynna said, pulling out one of the chairs at the big, round table.
"Family. Problems." Lily flipped her hand once. "Two sides of the same coin, aren't they?"
Cullen watched Cynna's face. Nothing showed, but he wondered what she was thinking. He'd never heard her mention any family and suspected she didn't have one. "Lily, this is Agent Timms. Timms, Lily hangs out on your side of reality most of the time—her aka is Agent Yu of MCD."
"We've spoken," Lily started to hold out her hand, then realized the cast was on his right arm. She settled for a nod and gave Cullen a questioning look.
"Cullen vouches for him," Rule said dryly. He moved to the coffeepot. "Anyone care for a cup?"
Timms was the only taker—seems he thought the pain meds had his mind a bit fuzzy.
"Oh." Lily reached for a folder on the table. "This is a copy of that report you wanted." She handed it to Cullen.
Cullen's hand closed tightly on it. He needed to read it right now, needed to find the one who'd tampered with his mind. Instinctively, he hid the strength of that need, saying the first thing that came to mind. "What's Benedict doing here?"
Rule handed Timms a mug. "Isen believes I'm in more danger than he is right now."
Benedict spoke. "He also believes you won't argue with me. Hard to get one of my people to guard Rule properly," he added to the rest of them. "They have a bad habit of obeying him."
"Not a flaw you're prone to," Cullen said. "Tends to run the other way with you." Lily hadn't said a word about what was in the report. Was it useless? Or did she not want to comment in front of Timms?
"I'm sorry you raced back this way," Rule said, apparently addressing the coffeepot as he poured his own coffee. "I told Lily there was no point."
Cullen spoke sharply. "Don't give her grief about this. Rule, I can see it now."
Rule's head jerked up. He scowled at Cullen.
"It's in your aura. The change is slight, small enough that I wouldn't notice if I didn't know you so well. But it's there."
"I don't want to be pushy," Cynna said, "but what are you talking about? Cullen said you were worse, Rule—that something went wacky with your memory. But even he couldn't see that."
Lily answered, her voice low. "The demon poison. It's metas-tasized, or something like that. I knew it the second I touched him."
"What?" Cynna demanded. "What did you feel?"
"It didn't stay in the wound. It's spread throughout his body."
TWENTY-THREE
"WOULD you slow it down?" Cynna said.
"No." Cullen knew he was driving too fast. He didn't care. He was back in the Mother-damned car when he needed to run.
The Wiccan healer—one of Sherry's people, so she was among the best—had checked Rule out earlier that evening. She couldn't do anything, with or without the coven's backing. It wasn't a matter of power, but knowledge.
They had a Catholic archbishop in their task force. He couldn't do a damned thing, either. Whatever was happening to Rule, it wasn't possession. It wasn't anything anyone knew a goddamned thing about.
Including him. They rocketed around a corner, tires squealing.
"Deja vu all over again. Every time I let a man behind the wheel today, he goes too fast. Slow down, Cullen. Now."
He glanced at her—and yelped. "You pulled a damned gun on me!"
The barrel of a snub-nosed revolver stared at him. So did a pair of tired but determined brown eyes. "I'm not in the mood to splatter all over the pavement tonight. I'm not in the mood for stupid men who won't listen. And I am so not in the mood to argue. Slow down."
He gave a quick bark of laughter and eased off on the accelerator until they were going a sedate forty. "Better?" he asked mildly.
"Much." She holstered her weapon. "Ah… you're pretty cheerful about being drawn on."
"I needed a good laugh."
"You find it funny to have people point guns at you?"
"You weren't going to use it. Shooting the driver at seventy miles an hour is a tad risky, even for you." He grinned. "Silliest thing I've seen in years. Got to love a woman who knows how to overreact."
"Glad I could improve your mood. Want me to brighten things even more and put a bullet in your leg?"
He chuckled. "You're pissed."
"You're just full of insight. That's my hotel."
"Right." He slowed further and pulled into the parking lot. "Where now?"
"Use the side entry—it's closer to my room." She twisted to check on his other passenger.
"Sleeping Beauty still out cold?"
She nodded. Cynna had the front seat this time, Timms the back. He'd fallen asleep the moment he curled up back there and didn't seem likely to wake for anything short of the last trumpet. Cullen marveled at his ability to sleep so soundly with a freshly broken bone, having experienced a few breaks in his time. Maybe the man had fewer pain receptors than most people.
Of course, Timms's body didn't flush out painkillers within minutes the way Cullen's did. There were advantages to being human, Cullen conceded. Not many, but a few.
He pulled to a stop near the side entry and shut off the engine.
"Cullen." Her. hand on his arm was almost as big a surprise as the gun had been. "We're going to fix Rule. Just because we don't know how yet doesn't mean we can't do it."
"Right." He took a deep breath, let it out. He was too old to believe in fairy tales. Right didn't make might, bad things did happen to good people, and determination didn't always win the day.
But you didn't get far without it. "Right," he said again, meaning it this time, and opened his door.
"For crying out loud. I make it safely inside all the time, you know."
"I'm going to kiss you. I could do it here, but—"
"If you get any mushier I'm going to tear up." But she didn't object to the idea. She didn't object when he took her hand, either.
Weird. They were holding hands. He might wonder if he was going through a second adolescence, but he hadn't been much for holding hands in the first one. He wasn't even going to go to bed with the woman—yet. He just wanted a little taste. A kiss.
How long had it been since he stopped at kissing?
But it felt good to hold her hand. He'd forgotten how good a simple touch could be. He'd trained himself not to need it; a clan-less wolf couldn't afford that need, because humans didn't understand. If you touched one of them, male or female, they thought it meant sex.
Or, in his case, they hoped it did. His lips quirked.
She dropped his hand to dig out her key card, which she needed to unlock the side door at this hour.
"How can you afford to stay here?" he asked.
"Hey, I negotiated. I get off-season rates year-round, and only pay for the nights I'm actually here, which averages about ten a month." She located the card and stuck it in. "There's a lot of demand for a good Finder. I fly all over the country, then when I come back, I get maid service, room service, laundry facilities, a gym, a pool, cable, Internet—"
"I get it. You like staying here."
"What's not to like? I guess someone who's into owning stuff wouldn't be happy, but it works for me."