This was not going to end well.
Friar glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “Your brother is ten minutes late.”
“He’ll be here.”
“He agreed to come at eleven forty-five.” When Jasper didn’t respond, Friar gave him a sharp glance. “He did agree, didn’t he, Jasper?”
“He agreed.”
“Then it appears I need to teach him the value of punctuality. Which of these pretty little darlings should I use for that lesson, do you think?” Friar smiled his shark’s smile. “You choose. Shall I use the little redhead or one of the pretty señoritas?”
“Rule will be here,” Jasper said forcefully.
“Oh, I’m sure, I’m sure. But he isn’t here on time. He’s violated our agreement already. Choose one for my little lesson.”
“I’m not playing your games.”
“Of course you will. If you don’t, I’ll hurt all five of them.”
Jasper swallowed. There was no answer, no possible response, he could give.
“Choices, choices,” Friar said amiably. “I’ll just get started now to encourage you to make up your mind. We’ll call your brother in a moment and let him listen in.” He knelt beside the nearest girl. The redhead. She wore a thin gold charm bracelet on one wrist. Her hair was short and curly. One of her shoes had come untied. She looked about ten.
The spell might keep her from remembering what had been done to her. It wouldn’t keep her from hurting.
“Hurt me instead,” Jasper said quickly. “I’ll scream, if you like. Sob. Make all kinds of noise and beg Rule to hurry. That’s better because he’ll know it’s happening right now. He might think that—that whatever sounds the girl makes is from a movie or something.”
“That’s clever,” Friar said approvingly. “I like to reward cleverness, so I’ll let you have it your way this time. I think you should use your own phone to call him.” Friar took Jasper’s phone out of his pocket.
“I’m kind of tied up at the moment.”
“Do you enjoy those action shows where the hero wisecracks while the villain does dreadful things to him? I can’t say I do. So unrealistic. Not just the fight scenes—one makes exceptions for that sort of thing—but those ridiculous heroes. No one behaves that way in such situations. You can trust me on that,” he added. “I’ve had experience with would-be heroes. They don’t make jokes for long.”
“The villains aren’t realistic, either, are they?” Jasper said. “Always so one-dimensional. Greedy bastards with small minds and large delusions, given to fits of rage when things don’t go their way.”
Friar smiled. “You make me glad I decided to do this your way. I’ll dial for you, shall I?” He pulled a knife out of his other pocket. A switchblade. A single touch and the blade snapped out. He stood and started toward Jasper.
Maybe Friar was right. Jasper’s throat was suddenly way too dry for witty repartee.
“I won’t do anything too permanent.” Friar looked so sane when he said that. He looked like a dentist reassuring a nervous patient. “Not your eyes, then. Did you know that the soles of the feet are one of the most nerve-rich places on the body? I think we’ll start with…” He tipped his head. “Ah. This is your lucky day, Jasper. Or night. Your brother is here.”
Jasper’s mouth was suddenly as full of spit as it had been dry a second ago. He swallowed. “Glad to hear it. And you know this how?” Did Friar have others stationed around the school that Jasper hadn’t seen?
“A ward. A very simple one. I’m quite the novice with them, so simple is best.”
“Is that how you knew—”
“I’d like you to be quiet now. Absolutely silent, in fact.”
LILY got out and slammed the car door. They’d gotten bloody damned lost on the way here. GPS could only do so much, and San Francisco streets were crazy.
Never mind. They were here now, and she’d just texted Tony, who’d replied that Hugo was still at the bar. It was two blocks away, but they’d driven past it while hunting for a place to park. There weren’t any. The streets were lined solid and the nearest lot was full, so Lily had Todd park illegally next to a hydrant. The bar Hugo has chosen was small but with a large neon sign that screamed TOPLESS! in red. Below that, in smaller letters, it said DINGOS. No apostrophe, so it was hard to say if the owner wanted to welcome wild dogs but didn’t know how to pluralize dingo, or if he was claiming to be one.
Mike and Todd closed in on either side of her. It was not a great neighborhood, but hardly the worst she’d been in. At this hour it was lively. Men outnumbered woman at least two-to-one, and Lily did not blend in with those women she saw. They probably weren’t all hookers, but you couldn’t tell by looking.
“You see Tony?” she asked. “Or smell him?”
“My nose isn’t that good in this form,” Todd said apologetically.
“I can’t see much in this crowd,” Mike said. “Why isn’t he waiting for us inside?”
“He’s banned from Dingos. Got in a fight there once, and they remember him.”
“He’s a memorable guy.”
“Is that why he couldn’t nab Hugo for you?”
She nodded. “That, and the fact that Hugo’s probably got some spellcraft, which makes dealing with him tricky. He definitely has a Gift, but we don’t know what kind. Something connected to Air.”
“I don’t know what that—”
Between one word and the next, Todd’s eyes rolled up in his head as a wall of magic rolled over Lily. Todd collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
So did Mike.
So did every damn person around her…save one.
The woman was short—around Lily’s height—but a lot more muscular. Also a lot furrier. Tawny fur covered every exposed inch from the toes of her bare feet to the tips of her catlike ears. A slightly darker ruff stood up between those ears. She stood twelve feet away from Lily with one hand pressed to the windshield of a parked car.
Aside from the fur, her face looked quite human as she smiled. “Miss Yu. My compliments on the strength of your Gift.” Her voice was lovely and lilting. Her English was West Coast American. “Or would you more properly be addressed as Agent Yu?”
Lily drew her gun and aimed. “You’re under—”
Something stung her cheek. “Under arrest,” she finished, automatically reaching up. She touched a feather. There was a feather stuck in her cheek. It burned, and her mind wasn’t working right. Neither was her hand, which felt clumsy gripping her weapon. She tightened those fingers as hard as she could, but her weapon was heavy. Way too heavy. It was pulling her down…all the way down…
THIRTY-TWO
THEY came through the double doors in twos—four men in dark jeans and dark shirts with expressions to match. They were fit and dangerous and beautiful.
“Stop,” Friar said, and they did.
Jasper’s not-quite-human brother wasn’t the tallest or the most beautiful. The dark-skinned man on his left was six-five, and Cullen Seabourne had probably been the most beautiful person in the room all his life. But Rule was the center. He held the others in place with one quick gesture while his eyes swept the room—pausing on Friar, then on Jasper, lingering briefly on each of the girls.
Jasper saw his throat move. Maybe he was swallowing the same terrible frustration and horror Jasper felt.
Too far. He was too far away.
The girl nearest the lupi—nearest, yet yards and yards too distant—whimpered. One of the thugs had her by her hair, holding her head up to expose her throat. He held a knife to it.