So he’d take his best guess. The crowd was certainly not the quarter of a million that Humans First claimed had signed up for their rally, but it was large. Perhaps ten thousand people had gotten up well before dawn to get a good spot, eager to show their hatred for lupi.
“What do you see?” he asked Cullen softly.
“Too damn many people,” he muttered, giving the area a slow scan. “I can’t see through them, you know. Wait. Down by the Washington Monument. That’s an earth elemental. Not a big one, nowhere near the size of Fagin’s, but . . . shit. There’s another one under the Smithsonian. It’s deep, but I can see a glow.”
“Can you tell who’s summoning them?”
Cullen crouched and put one hand on the ground. “I suck at Earth magic, but here goes.” His lips moved, but all Rule caught was a cadenced sort of murmur. An incantation, he supposed. Cullen straightened. “No clue who’s doing it, but I think it’s a call, not a summons. That’s good news.”
“The difference being—?”
“A call is just that—‘hey there, how ya doing, want to come have some blood?’ A summons is a compulsion and takes beaucoup power, especially with earth elementals. I’d rather not go up against anyone who could summon multiple earth elementals, then keep them from trying to kill each other. Highly territorial, earth elementals. Or, hell, anyone who could summon a single elemental the size of the one Deborah’s hanging out with. If . . .” His voice trailed off. He squinted, then started walking toward the stage at the far end of the Mall.
Rule kept pace. “Manny, Tom—your job is to keep Cullen alive. Stay with us. The rest of you, fan out, centered on me. Fifteen-foot perimeter.” He lowered his voice. “What is it?”
“I just caught a glimpse. Something leaked, but only for a second. Maybe someone broke the circle, then closed it up again. But I could swear someone’s working a spell under that damn stage.”
“ . . . EXCEPT for the death magic,” Mullins finished. “Al didn’t know about that, didn’t believe you when you said it. But he’s been a cop too long. He got itchy, checked something out. Found that setup on Webster. You were right. They’ve been collecting homeless people, killing them to make death magic. Al couldn’t stomach what they were doing, what they planned to do, so he called me. Two of us couldn’t do it alone, though. We’d just get killed, then they’d go ahead and kill everyone. So I called you.”
They’d moved inside—all of them, or almost. Maybe 1223 Hammond wasn’t as completely derelict as 1225, but it was equally abandoned. Lily had summoned Scott and Chris, and the five of them sat or squatted on a kitchen floor every bit as dirty as the ground outside. In here, though, they didn’t have to worry as much about being heard.
Lily looked at Drummond—who was technically under arrest. Mullins had informed him of that before calling Lily. Mike had disarmed him and sat next to him now, ready to stop him if he tried anything. He hadn’t said a word since his demand to “get this son of a bitch off me.”
He didn’t look like a man undergoing a crisis of conscience. More like a balked fanatic. “You’re okay with violating your oath,” she said. “Okay with killing Ruben Brooks—”
“He’s not dead.”
“Not your fault he lived, though, is it? You didn’t object to your buddies killing a senator, either—one who was as anti-magic as you are. Did he find out too much about Dennis Parrott, or was he just a convenient way to frame Ruben? I’m not even going to ask you what part you had in bombing Fagin’s library and nearly killing him and Cullen. You probably don’t think they’re real people, seeing as how one’s lupus and the other’s Gifted. You’re cool with massacring lupi and Gifted, but I’m supposed to believe you draw the line at killing homeless people.”
“I don’t give a damn what you believe.”
“Al,” Mullins muttered, “you’re not helping.”
Drummond shot him a look Lily couldn’t read. “Look,” he said impatiently, “she’s not going to buy it if I play the repentant sinner. She and all her magical crowd are an imminent and ongoing danger to the people of this country. That’s fact, and if you can’t see it now, you will. But yeah, I do draw the line at killing innocent people. Especially killing them in such a foul way. It . . .” His lips tightened to a thin line. After a moment he went on, eyes blazing. “And if you don’t quit talking this all out and give me back my weapon so we can do something about it, they’ll all die.”
“Who’s in this with you?”
He shook his head, a small, bitter smile on his thin lips.
“You want my help, you’re going to have to—” Her phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her pocket, saw who the text was from, and smiled tightly. At last. She read it, sent a quick reply—I’m clear to talk—you? Call if u can—and gave Scott a nod so he’d know she’d heard from Shannon. Then she spoke to Mullins. “Some of your story’s been confirmed. There were four thugs at the Webster house—three inside, one out back. The place reeks of blood and death magic. But those four have just been joined by two more in a catering truck.”
“Fuck!” That was Drummond. “If we’d acted right away—”
“We’d have been shot by the two who showed up late for the party.” Her phone vibrated again. This time it was a call, not a text. Shannon again. “Go ahead.” She listened, asked a couple questions, and told him to stand by for instructions. “They’ve begun loading their victims into the truck. Not bodies—victims. Out cold, but still alive.” She looked at Drummond. “They’re taking them somewhere else to be sacrificed, aren’t they?”
He was silent.
“To your friends at the Humans First Rally.” When he still didn’t speak she leaned forward. “Goddammit. Don’t you get it? Your buddies are perfectly willing to sacrifice their own people along with the ones you consider innocent. What do you think they’re going to do with the death magic they conjure by killing twenty-two people? I know about the dopplegängers. They must plan to make a lot of them, not just duplicate me and Ruben. Or maybe they’re planning to feed the earth elementals they’ve called. Those elementals can do a lot of damage if they’re fed well.”
“They wouldn’t—” He shut himself up quickly.
“They killed a United States senator who was on their side. Hell yes, they would. They’d do anything. There are children at that damn rally. Are you going to let kids be killed to protect your righteous cause?”
“I’m not the one who insists on talking and talking and talking. You going to shut up and do something? Or are you planning to sit this out while they carry off and kill twenty-two people—including someone who’s supposed to be a friend of yours?”
“You’re right. I’m not going to let them do that.”
His mouth twisted. “There’s six of them now. Armed. You’d better give me back my weapon.”
“You want in? I don’t need you. There’s me and Mullins and four lupi. Hell, the lupi probably don’t need me and Mullins, but we’ll tag along. What about you? If you want in, you’re going to have to prove to me that you mean it.”
Scott’s head swiveled toward her. He opened his mouth—and shut it again without telling her not to be an idiot.
Good man. “Who are you working with?” she repeated. “And what are they planning?”
“Al,” Mullins said slowly, “you’re so far wrong, and you can’t see it, and it breaks my heart. But if you’ve ever trusted me—not just to take your back, hell, you know I’ll do that—but really trusted me, listen to me now. These people you’re in with, they’re bad. They’re going to kill people. Not just collateral damage in this unholy war you think you’re fighting—they’ll out-and-out murder people because they don’t give a shit. If it’s easier to kill, if they think it works, they’ll do it. You think you’re doing this because of Pat, to keep others from dying like she did. But it’s revenge you’re really after, and you’re taking it on people who never hurt you or her. If she could see you now, see what you’ve done, she’d be sick. You know she would.”