World of Lupi 10 - Ritual Magic Page 2

  Mark stood a couple feet into the hall. Either he hadn’t drawn his weapon or he’d already put it up. A few feet beyond him, Rule stood with his arms around Lily’s mother. She was sobbing. Her hands gripped his arms. He was stroking her back and murmuring something. He looked up from his soothing to meet Lily’s eyes. He looked baffled.

  “Mother?” Lily stepped forward cautiously. She’d never seen her mother come apart like this. Never. To do so in public . . . “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  Julia Yu lifted her head from Rule’s shoulder. Mascara streaked her face in long black runnels. “I’m old! I’m so old!”

  “You . . . you look great.”

  Julia shuddered and wailed.

  “I was coming down the hall and saw Julia,” Rule said carefully. “She looked upset, so I asked if she was all right. She reached up to touch her hair, then started patting her face. Then she screamed.”

  “Mother—”

  “I’m not your mother! I’m not anyone’s mother! I’m twelve years old and someone has stuck me in this old, old body!”

  The last fifteen months had been difficult. Lily had killed. She’d died herself—or part of her had—and she’d seen someone die for her. She’d dealt with a wraith, too many demons, a Chimea, a crazy telepath, and a couple of really nasty elves. She had literally been to hell and back. But this . . .

  For a long moment her mind was simply blank. Then she thought of psychotic breaks. Then she thought of magic. She swallowed hard and put her weapon back in her purse. “You’re twelve, you said.”

  A vigorous nod. “It’s my birthday.”

  Yes, it was. Only Julia Yu had turned fifty-seven today, not twelve. “Do you recognize me?”

  “N-no. You look kind of familiar, though. Maybe we met sometime?”

  “My name is Lily. You’re Julia, right?”

  Her mother sniffed. “Julia Lin.”

  Lin. Her mother’s maiden name. “I’m an FBI agent. Would you like to see my badge?”

  “A real FBI agent?”

  “The real thing.” Lily pulled her shield from her purse and held it out. “See?”

  Julia Yu released her death grip on one of Rule’s arms so she could lean forward to peer at Lily’s ID. She didn’t reach for it, though. “It looks real.”

  “It is. Have you heard about—” Noise behind Lily had her turning. Her father and two of her cousins were at the hall’s entrance. Edward Yu told Scott he’d better step aside right now.

  “Edward,” Rule said, “give us a couple more minutes. Please.”

  “I’m going to see my wife,” Lily’s father said. “Julia—are you all right?”

  “Who’s he?” Julia said, her voice wobbly. “He’s not your husband, is he? He looks too old.”

  Lily almost lost it. She swallowed and blinked like crazy and prayed her voice wouldn’t break. “Father. Give me a minute. Please. If magic’s involved—”

  “Magic!” Julia cried.

  Edward Yu didn’t answer, but he shoved at Scott. Who didn’t budge, of course. Neither of them was a large man, but Scott was lupus.

  “Edward.” The cousins parted to allow a small, awesomely erect old woman to come forward. Her black hair was skinned back from her face and fastened in an intricate bun. She wore crimson satin, lavishly embroidered. Grandmother murmured something in Chinese that Lily didn’t catch and laid a hand on her son’s arm, adding in that language, “Something bad has happened. Julia does not know you. We will stay back so we do not overwhelm her.”

  Edward Yu frowned hard. His eyes were frantic. “Not long. I won’t wait long.”

  Lily turned back to the woman who didn’t know she was a mother. Who thought she was twelve years old. “I’m with Unit Twelve, Julia. Have you heard of that? We investigate crimes connected with magic.”

  “Someone put a spell on me, didn’t they? That’s what’s wrong!”

  “It’s one possibility. I can find out if you’ll shake my hand.”

  Julia’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

  “I’m a touch sensitive. If magic has been used on you—a spell of some kind—I’ll feel it when we touch.” Her mother was null, with not a whisper of a Gift. Any trace of magic Lily found would have been put there by someone else.

  Julia cast a worried glance at Rule. He nodded reassuringly. “I guess that’s okay,” she said and held out her hand. It was shaking.

  Lily took it in both of hers.

  Julia Yu used to play the piano. She had the hands for it, long-fingered and graceful. Her manicure was immaculate, the polish a pale pink. The hand Lily held was covered in soft, well-tended skin and a hint of . . . something.

  The sensation was so faint Lily wasn’t sure she really felt it. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out every other sense, concentrating on her hands . . . yes. It was like the difference between air that’s completely still and the merest puff of a breath, but it was there.

  “You found magic.” Julia’s voice was high and quick. “You did. I can see it on your face.”

  “I found something,” Lily agreed, opening her eyes. Something that bothered her, but she didn’t know why, when she’d barely been able to discern that anything was present at all. Maybe her unease had nothing to do with her Gift and everything to do with whose hand she held. “I don’t know what. It’s very faint. Would you mind if I touched your face?”

  “My face? I—I guess not.”

  Julia Yu was five inches taller than her second daughter. Lily reached up and laid her palm flat on her mother’s cheek.

  The skin was soft there, too. Pampered. Had she touched her mother’s face at all since she was little? She couldn’t remember. Julia was staring at her with such hope, as if Lily could fix things with her touch. Lily’s eyes stung, so she closed them. Her hand. She had to focus on her hand.

  Not as faint here. Still a barely there sensation, but a bit more present, just as she’d hoped. A spell that tampered with identity or memory should be more concentrated on the head. Only she still didn’t know what she was touching. Magic always had a feel to it—slick or rough, intricate or smooth, oily or dry or whatever. This wasn’t tactile. More like being in a dark room where you couldn’t see a thing, but you knew someone was there. You didn’t hear anyone or smell anything. Maybe you sensed the air move or the heat of their body, but you weren’t aware of that. You just knew someone was there.

  Lily opened her eyes and drew her hand back. Her right hand. Not the one with Rule’s diamond. The one with the ring she’d had made to hold the toltoi, the charm the clan had given her when she’d become officially Nokolai. The Lady’s token, they called it. “I think . . .” God, she could not cry. Not now. She had to be a cop, not a daughter, right now. She made her voice firm. That was what people needed from a cop—firmness, authority, even when said cop was clueless and wanted badly to curl up in a ball. “I did find something.”

  “Can you take the spell off? Make it go away?”

  “No, I’m not a practitioner. We’ll get someone who is, though. Someone who knows a lot more than me.” Lily tried to smile reassuringly. She was sure it was a sad and sick failure. “Rule—”

  “I’ll call Cullen.” He tried easing one arm away from Julia. She clutched at him. “I’m right here,” he said soothingly. “I’ve got you. I need to call a friend of mine. He’s very good with magic.”

  Cullen Seaborne was one of a kind, the only Gifted lupus in the world. His Gift was one of the rarest, too. He was a sorcerer, able to see magic much as Lily was able to touch it. He’d have some idea what to do.

  Lily sure didn’t. She drew a shaky breath. What now? If this had been anyone else, a stranger, what would she be doing right now?

  “Lily,” Grandmother said. “You will now tell us what you found.”

  All right. Yes, that was one thing she co
uld do. But first . . . “In just a moment. Rule, I need to give your people some directions.”

  He had his phone to his ear. He nodded.

  “Scott, I need the restaurant exits shut down. No one is to leave. Julia, you’d probably like to sit down. You’ve had a shock. Grandmother, maybe you could take her to—”

  “What did you find? What’s wrong with Julia?” That was her father, who had waited all he could. Scott had moved away as soon as Lily gave him his instructions, leaving defense of the hall to Mark, who also didn’t budge when Edward Yu shoved him. Her father’s hands clenched into fists. “Move.”

  “Father, I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but I know this is a Unit matter. I need to talk to Uncle Chen. Will you bring him here?”

  His mouth tightened. He cast his wife one long look, then nodded and turned, pushing his way through the crowd gathering at the hall’s entrance. It wasn’t just relatives now—several customers had decided they needed to see what was going on.

  “Everyone else—you will go back to your tables. Now.” She whipped the last word out. Several people did back away. None of her family budged. “Mark, keep this hallway clear. Anyone who doesn’t go sit down—” Quickly she amended what she’d been about to say. “Anyone other than Grandmother who doesn’t go sit down will be taken politely but firmly to their table.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” That was Paul, her brother-in-law. “You can’t intend for him to lay hands on any of us.”

  “This is a crime scene. I mean exactly what I said. I need you to go get Susan.” Lily’s older sister was a dermatologist, so this was way outside her field, but she could at least make sure their mother didn’t go into shock or something.

  Being given an assignment tempered Paul’s indignation. He frowned to let her know he did not appreciate her attitude, but he left to get Susan.

  “Cullen’s on his way,” Rule said.

  Thank God. Though it would take him awhile to get here. He was at Nokolai Clanhome, well outside San Diego. “Grandmother, can you take Moth—Julia—into the ladies’ room so she can sit down?” There were a couple of chairs in there.

  “Who are all these people?” Julia said plaintively. “I thought I was here with my family, but I don’t see them. Is my mother here? You need to call her. Mrs. Franklin Lin. She’ll be worried. You’d better call her right away.”

  Lily met Grandmother’s eyes. Her mother’s mother had died forty-five years ago . . . two months after Julia’s twelfth birthday.

  Grandmother stepped forward. “You will allow me to worry about that. I am Madame Yu. I am not your grandmother, but you may call me that, if you wish. Come.” She slid an arm around Julia’s waist, gently but inexorably detaching her from Rule. She was a full head shorter than the younger woman. “You will sit down now. Someone will bring you a glass of water.”

  “Can I have a Coke?” Julia asked as she was steered into the ladies’ room.

  “A glass of Coca-Cola, then. We will not worry about caffeine tonight.”

  The ladies’ room door closed behind them.

  TWO

  THE local cops arrived first—two patrol units that Lily put to work right away, herding the abundance of potential witnesses into separate groups. Her own people got there soon after. Ackleford came himself and brought three agents with him. The crime scene team, he said, was on the way.

  Derwin Ackleford, aka the Big A, was the special agent in charge of the local office. His nickname did not refer to his size; he was five foot seven with an average build. Nor did it refer to his last name. Lily was convinced Ackleford had some sort of personality disorder. He was rude, crude, and hard to work with, and he always stank of cigarette smoke. He would never have risen to the position he held if he hadn’t also been damn good at his job. The Big Asshole was a workaholic—painstaking, methodical, yet capable of brilliant intuitive leaps at times.

  Those leaps were probably due to the tiny trace of a patterning Gift he refused to acknowledge. Ackleford was regular FBI, not Unit, which meant Lily outranked him in the ways that counted, if not on the organizational chart. But the man had a second saving grace: all that mattered to him was the investigation. He didn’t give a damn who was in charge or who got credit. Or, as he’d put it the first time she’d had to work with him, “Every investigation’s got problems. It rains before you get the casts of the tire prints or some asshole in headquarters loses the goddamn form you sent or some idiot chick promoted way past her competence shows up and gets put in charge.” He’d shrugged. “Whatever.”

  In spite of his drawbacks, she was glad to see Ackleford. She briefed him and the other agents quickly, finishing with, “We don’t know what we’re dealing with. What I need first is names and addresses from everyone present and a brief statement. You know the drill. We also need to know if anyone left before I got the place shut down. Two of you take the family; two take the employees. Employees are in the kitchen.” She nodded at the door to that region. “I’ll start on the other customers when I can.”

  Ackleford looked skeptical. “You’re saying this was some kind of spell.”

  “Maybe a spell, maybe something else, but magic is involved. For now, we will proceed on the assumption that what happened was intentional. A deliberate attack.”

  “The victim’s your mother.”

  “Yes.” Temper flared—but not, she realized, at Ackleford. Deep inside, rage had begun to burn.

  “And your uncle owns the place.”

  “‘Uncle’ is an honorific in this case. Chen Lin is my second cousin.” Ackleford would be thinking that the husband was the usual suspect, or the kids—people who might inherit or who’d been nursing a grievance. “Whoever did this was Gifted. Of those present at the party, only two have the potential to use magic: my grandmother, Li Lei Yu, and my cousin Lin’s husband, Mack Li. Oh, and one of the servers who waited on us has a slight empathic Gift, but it’s completely blocked. I doubt she could use it if her life depended on it.”

  “What about your grandmother? What’s her Gift?”

  “Unique to her, I believe, so it’s not named.”

  “Huh. And your cousin’s husband?”

  “A minor telekinetic Gift. Mack can’t bend a spoon, but he can nudge it a bit. To the best of my knowledge, however, he lacks any training in spellcraft.”

  “You left yourself off the list.” That came from the newest agent at the office, a man Lily had met but hadn’t worked with. What was his name? Fields? No, Fielding. Carl Fielding. “You can work magic.”

  “Idiots,” Ackleford muttered. “Why do they always send me idiots? She’s a touch sensitive,” he told the man. “Feels magic if it’s around, can’t be affected by it, can’t do shit with it herself. Go away. You and Brewer can make like you know how to interview witnesses.”

  “Uh—do we take the family?”

  “No.” Ackleford looked at Lily again, eyes narrowed. “Robert Friar’s got a major hard-on for you.”

  And that was Ackleford. He’d earned his nickname of the Big Asshole, but he didn’t settle for the obvious if it didn’t fit. “I’d say he wants me dead, but dead probably isn’t good enough. So yes, it’s possible he’s involved, but we’ve nothing to connect him at this time. I’d like you to double up on interviewing the family so we can release them as soon as possible.”

  Ackleford grunted. “Who’s handling the woo-woo end of things?”

  “I’ve got an expert headed here who can advise us on that.”

  “That Seaborne guy or the chick with the tattoos or the one with all that red hair?”

  “The Seaborne guy. The family is in the small private dining room. I moved them from the larger room, where we—they—were eating. It’s—”

  “Lily!”

  She turned. A tall, elegant woman strode toward her. She wore a simple blue sheath, low heels, and a determined expressio
n.

  “That one of your family?” Ackleford asked.

  “My sister Susan. Susan Wong. She’s a doctor. She and Grandmother have been staying with . . . with the victim in the ladies’ room.”

  “I need to transport my patient to the hospital,” Susan said crisply as soon as she reached Lily. “I’ve called an ambulance.”

  A jolt of fear made Lily stiffen. “Is she—”

  “No, no—there’s been no change. She’s not in physical distress, but we don’t know what was done to her. It was some kind of spell, wasn’t it?”

  “Magic was involved.”

  “It might have physical effects that haven’t shown up yet. She needs to be checked out.”

  “Yeah, well, I need to talk to her first,” Ackleford said.

  Susan turned a polite frown on him. “Who are you?”

  “Special Agent Ackleford, ma’am.”

  “Well, no one is interrogating my mother right now. She’s suffered serious trauma, and questions increase her distress, potentially deepening the trauma.”

  “It’s a funny thing, but the FBI doesn’t let the victim’s family determine who we talk to and when.”

  “In this case,” Lily said, “the family member is also the doctor in charge. She’s stated that the victim is not fit for questioning and is about to be taken to the hospital. Pretty clear rules about that. You might try to remember that I gave you an assignment.”

  Ackleford rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Parker. Let’s get started.”

  “Second door on the right,” Lily told him.

  “Yeah, yeah. The one that’s not being secured by the uniforms. I might’ve figured that out all by myself.”

  Ackleford stomped off. Rickie Parker—who was thoroughly female in spite of the nickname, which was short for Fredericka—gave Lily a single, sympathetic glance before following him.

  “Who is he?” Susan asked, staring after them.

  “He’s in charge of the Bureau’s office here. He is not, however, in charge of this investigation. He’ll forget that several more times before we’re through. Susan, how is she really doing?”