"Jesus, Rule! And you accuse me of being an idiot with women!"
"No, you're thoughtless, but when you bother to think, you're bright enough." Rule finished mopping and carried the mop back to the pantry. The wall still had to be washed. "Don't bother giving me advice. I'm not going to worry her more than I have to."
Cullen shook his head. Another yawn hit.
"You'd better get to bed. Take my room—the others are occupied."
Cullen managed a tired grin. "Think Lily will object to my sleeping in her bed?"
"No, but she'll hate the way you'll bring it up at whatever moment irritates her most." He retrieved the sponge Cullen had pretended not to see earlier. It was hiding on the shelf above the sink.
"Couple of things I need to tell you before I crash, if I can keep enough brain cells operating to do it." Another yawn. "About Timms—"
"I told you I wasn't keeping him for you."
"I know that." Cullen was irritated. "I called him, told him I had to be out of town awhile. I…" He stopped, eyes narrowing. "You knew that."
"He's come over every day. He's on medical leave because of his arm, so I guess he's at loose ends. Madam Yu," he said, "is teaching him mah-jongg."
"Good God."
And that, Rule thought as he stooped to wipe down the wall, was both typical and brand-new. Cullen hadn't called Rule after he vanished—typical. He'd expected Rule to understand. He also hadn't wanted to give Rule a chance to object to what he meant to do. He hadn't called Lily or Cynna because it hadn't occurred to him. But he'd called Timms.
Cullen had always collected strays—often, though not always, human. People as hungry in their way for belonging as he was. But he'd never tended to them himself for long, instead finding someone else to assume responsibility.
But he'd called Timms.
"Might as well call him, tell him I'm back. Can't tell him everything, of course," Cullen said. "Especially about the Codex." He paused. "I suppose Lily has already passed that bit on."
Rule finished the wall, straightened, and nodded.
Cullen's fists clenched, then relaxed. "I guess the ones we most wish didn't know about it already do. I've an idea about the Codex. That's the other thing I wanted to tell you before I crash."
"I'm listening." He put the sponge back and returned to the table, where he picked up the feather and the leather strip. He might as well wear the damned thing. Maybe it would help. He threaded the leather through the silver loop.
"The report Lily gave me. Putting it together with what I can remember or reconstruct—does that make you as mad as it does me?" he asked suddenly. "Having your memory messed with?"
Since he'd just finished cleaning up the evidence of his temper, Rule's voice was dry. "Yes. It does."
Cullen nodded. "Anyway, the FBI detected what they call a nodal disturbance down in Galveston. Their reader's estimate was so high—in the neighborhood of sixty thousand fyllos—they assumed it was a glitch. That kind of nodal energy just doesn't happen, and if it did, there'd be other disturbances… kind of like what we've seen lately, as a matter of fact. But they sent someone to check it out anyway. Regular FBI guy from the local office, not the Unit, but he had some Wiccan training. He talked to several people who lived near the node. Including Molly Brown."
Rule tied the leather around his neck and slipped the feather under his shirt. He didn't feel different. But then, he didn't feel different when he lost time, either. "Molly's your succubus friend."
"Right. She had another friend with her—a woman named Erin DuBase. Registered Wiccan, rumored to be a priestess or high priestess. Also present was someone they claimed was Molly's nephew… named Michael."
Rule saw where he was going. "The same first name as the sorcerer who visited you. The one you think tampered with your memory."
Excitement burned off Cullen's exhaustion. He began to pace. "Next thing you know, there's an APB out for Molly and Michael, who've left Galveston—only no one knows who issued it. Molly calls me at some point, then she and Michael fly out to see me. We're together for hours. I don't remember it clearly at all, but it doesn't occur to me for a long time that there's anything wrong with my memory. Aversion spell," he said, stopping crisply. "I found the damned thing in my head."
"Did you get rid of it, then?"
Cullen's grin was fierce. "I did. Learned a few things in the process, too. But back to my story. My next clear memory is waking up with Molly and Michael gone. I'm not alone long. The Az£ come calling, looking for Michael, though they settle for me.
"Lucky me. At some point before their arrival, I acquired shields. Shields so good no one, not even the telepathic Helen with that damned staff augmenting her power, can break through. We're talking the Rolls-Royce of shields, Rule, when no one on this planet today knows how to build a goddamned Model T."
Rule felt cold. "But that sort of spell might well be in the Codex."
Cullen licked his finger and drew a one in the air. "Your point, ace. Both the shields and the tampering with my memory took skills that haven't existed since the Codex vanished." When Cullen's fists clenched this time, he didn't relax them. "He's got it, Rule. The original power reading was no glitch—it takes ungodly amounts of power to open a gate. That's when the Codex returned. And the son of a bitch who messed with my mind has it."
It made sense. It made too damned much sense. "You think this Michael tampered with your memory, then kindly equipped you with shields?"
Cullen waved that away impatiently. "He needed something from me. I wish to God I could remember what, but it's gone. The shields were my payment—which suggests he's not a complete son of a bitch, or at least that Molly wouldn't let him kill me. But he forgot to take away one thing. I know what he looks like."
And if Cullen had been hot to find the man before, now the need was burning him up. "Maybe," Rule said slowly, "we should let the Codex stay hidden."
"Make like an ostrich, you mean? If we pretend nothing bad's coming, the boogieman won't get us." Cullen was disgusted. "She's after it. How can we not do our damnedest to get hold of it first?"
He was right, yet—"The Codex is the biggest Pandora's box the world has ever seen. If it contains the kind of knowledge you believe it does—"
"That She believes it does, too."
"Then who can be trusted with it?"
Cullen ran a hand over his hair. "If you're thinking I can't be, you're probably right. Oh, not that I want to set myself up as world ruler. I don't have time for that. But better to have it in Nokolai's hands than the government's."
The government. Lily. "What are you saying?" Rule snapped.
"Don't tell Lily. Not yet. She'll been dead-set on telling that damned task force, and—"
"I have to tell her. The last time I kept things from her—" Rule gave a quick, harsh bark of laughter. "That's when she ended up in hell. So did I."
Cullen shook his head. "What you withheld was clan business and had nothing to do with what happened to the two of you."
"I can't hold back on her."
"You already are."
LlLY grabbed her purse and her computer, slammed the car door, and headed out of the garage at a good clip. Automatically she scanned the backyard, but she couldn't spot the guard.
It gave her the willies, frankly. She was glad the guards were there, but she didn't like the idea of anyone being so well-hidden.
The back door opened just as she reached for it. She jumped, then stepped through. "That's damned disconcerting," she told Benedict, who was holding the door for her.
He smiled. Benedict was a man of few words—often no words.
"Rule!" she called, setting her laptop on the table, then digging her phone out of her purse before tossing the purse there, too. She hit the speed dial for Cynna's cell.