She shrugged. “Harlowe’s a better target, anyway.”
Was she agreeing or evading? Lily gave one last warning. “Karonski has good protection, too. Helen went right through it. She couldn’t get past Seabourne’s shields to his mind, but she was still able to use the staff against him. It caused excruciating pain.”
“You’re going somewhere with this.”
“She was also able to kill with it. She tried to use it on me that way. It had no effect.”
“Because you’re a sensitive. I get that.”
“I hope you also get that standard arrest procedures won’t work with Harlowe. I’m the only one the staff can’t affect, so when we do find him, I go in alone.”
Cynna snorted. “You may be immune to the staff, but there are plenty of other ways to get killed.”
“She’ll have backup,” Rule said grimly.
“Thirty feet away and out of sight.”
“That’s too far. Cullen said Helen had to be within fifteen feet to affect him.”
“Cullen’s a sorcerer. What’s safe for him may not be safe for others. Not that I’m convinced he knows the meaning of safety,” she added, thinking of what he’d said about experimenting with mage fire.
“Why are you so bloody careful about everyone’s safety but yours?”
“It’s my safety at stake, too! I need to know that the people backing me up aren’t being controlled by—”
“We’ve been over this. Harlowe can’t read minds, so he can’t take over minds.”
“We don’t know what all he can do. If you weren’t so stubbornly sure—”
‘Time out!“ Cynna sang. ”If the two of you can’t play nice, you’ll have to go to your rooms.“
After a moment Rule said dryly, “Without our supper?”
“Only if you don’t tell me what you’re arguing about.”
Lily took a deep breath. “Right.” At least this time she knew what the argument was about. “The problem is that we’ve got more guesses than facts about what the staff can do.”
“From what you’ve said, it can kill, hurt like hell, or take over your mind.”
Rule spoke. “The first two, yes. Mind control— probably not, if it’s in Harlowe’s hands. Lily and I disagree about that,” he added. “I believe the staff augments the user’s natural Gift, if there is one. Helen was a telepath. Harlowe isn’t.”
“I’m not disputing that,” Lily said impatiently. “But Helen didn’t have a Gift that let her slice people up from a distance. That came purely from the staff. What else can it do that we don’t know about?”
“Maybe it has no limits and the president and most of Congress are already under Harlowe’s control. Lily, we can’t guard against every ‘maybe’ you can conjure up.”
“We’ll take what precautions seem reasonable. Thirty feet is reasonable.”
“To you.”
“I’m in charge.”
“We don’t get to vote? And here I thought you were so enamored of democracy.”
Lily tightened her lips on the hot response she wanted to make. They’d entertained Cynna enough with their squabbling.
How had they gotten so crosswise of each other so quickly after last night?
Those damned layers, she supposed. She yanked out a
CD at random and jammed it into the player. Then immediately turned down the volume.
She didn’t have time to brood over the tangled layers of her love life. She turned to Cynna Weaver and asked to be filled in on how the woman’s Gift worked. And did a pretty good job of not thinking about age differences, nightmares, or what had drawn Rule to the woman all those years ago.
ELEVEN
CYNNA hadn’t expected to like Lily Yu. That was envy, of course, with a healthy dose of its kissing cousin, jealousy. But what could be more natural? She didn’t fault herself for it. But somewhere along the line, a little worm of liking had surprised her by wiggling past all the other stuff.
Aside from that, though, she wasn’t sure what to make of the woman. Lily seemed to know her business, but why had she brought Rule along? No doubt he could guard the hell out of her, but she wasn’t exactly a fragile flower. Cynna couldn’t see what he could contribute otherwise. The lupi weren’t connected to the hunt for Harlowe… unless there was something she hadn’t been told?
It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been left out of the loop. All too often, people thought of her as a handy sort of freak, like the spinner in a board game—toss her down, spin her around, see which way she pointed. The way they saw it, she didn’t need a brain to find stuff. So they assumed she didn’t have one.
Rule knew better, but he was just naturally secretive as hell. Still, she didn’t think he’d out-and-out lie to her.
She’d watch for a chance to catch him alone, she decided, and ask him why he was really along.
Temecula lay about halfway between San Diego and L.A. on 1-15. By the time they reached its fast-food and gas-station fringes, the sun had popped up over the horizon and Lily switched off the longhair music. She warned Cynna to be especially respectful of local authority.
Temecula, she said, used to be a small, sleepy town, but it had put on a real growth spurt in the past ten years. Like a gangly adolescent prone to tripping, it was jealous of its dignity. There was some rivalry between the newcomers and the oldtimers at the local cop shop. The ones who’d been around forever were outnumbered, but they had seniority and rank, and they didn’t need outsiders telling them how to do things.
Kim had been doing okay for herself, Cynna thought as they pulled up near their goal. Up until someone killed her, that is. She’d lived in half of a little stucco duplex roofed with those red tiles Californians were crazy about. The yard was tiny but green. She counted four cops tramping around in it.
As soon as they parked and got out, one of those cops came over to tell them to move on. Lily showed him her badge. He wasn’t impressed—said they’d have to wait until Detective Leung cleared them. He did manage to look apologetic when, in response to Lily’s question, he told them the body had already been removed.
Lily looked furious.
So they waited. It felt good to be out of the car. Not that Cynna got carsick anymore—she had a dandy little anti-nausea spell—but she hated riding in the backseat. She always felt cramped and left out.
The air had that slick, cool feel she associated more with spring than fall. But this part of the country didn’t really do fall, much less winter. She’d come here straight from another job in Kansas City with no time to pick up more clothes. She wasn’t dressed right for the climate.
Actually, she just plain wasn’t dressed right, but that was nothing new. She’d never gotten the hang of dressing like a fibbie. Cynna sighed as she looked at the China doll. Cynna was wearing tan slacks, too, but they didn’t look like Lily’s, and her jacket was not nearly as fashionable as the other woman’s trim little red thing. Lily didn’t carry an old black gym bag around, either. No, she had a big, flat leather envelope of a purse slung over her shoulder.
She and Rule were talking nearby, too low for Cynna to make out the words. They weren’t arguing, but they weren’t happy, either. That cheered Cynna up some. Call her petty, but she liked knowing the woman wasn’t perfect.
Finally someone came out of the victim’s front door. He was Asian and not in uniform, so Cynna allowed herself to jump to the conclusion that he was the guy they were waiting for.
Detective Leung was a small man, not much taller than Lily, and dressed just as pretty—pressed white shirt, navy suit, and narrow tie. He didn’t have much in the way of lines to give away his age, but his hair was more salt than pepper. By the time he reached them, it was obvious he didn’t plan to roll out the welcome mat.