He wanted to hunt and catch and kill. She understood.
Lily took his hand so the mate bond could help him hold on to his control and spoke into the phone. “This is FBI Special Unit Agent Lily Yu. I need a medevac helicopter at this location. Immediately.”
The 911 operator told her all the copters were out on other calls, but she’d send an ambulance. Lily had to let go of Rule’s hand to retrieve her own phone from her pocket . . . not the pocket that held Cullen’s present.
And she was not going to think about that. “I need a copter. You can divert one of yours, or you can call the Navy.” Naval Base San Diego was the largest in the country. They kept fully equipped medevac copters standing by. “Priority authorization for that—be quiet. This is an order, not a request. Call this number”—she read it off her own phone’s directory—“with authorization code Elder, Elder, M as in Mary, S as in Susan, six-one-one-five. Got that?” She listened. “Right. I’ll stand by while you confirm.”
While the operator made the call, Lily took in the scene.
Nettie chanted. Her expression was serene, but beneath the natural coppery pigment of her skin she looked strained. How long could she keep pouring energy into Cullen? He was pale. Shock? Could a lupus go into shock? She didn’t see any blood, not a mark on him anywhere.
Stabbed from behind, then. No sign of the weapon. Did the perp still have it, whoever he was?
An assumption there, but the odds favored a male assailant. It took strength and a great deal of skill to hit the heart with a single strike.
Was Cullen still breathing? He must be. Nettie hadn’t given up. Lily took a breath herself, as if that would help. Her palms were damp. She wiped one absently on her dress, switching hands with the phone so she could wipe the other one, too.
One of the faces in the seated crowd snagged her attention. Her sister sat beside Jason, holding his hand, about twenty feet away. Beth looked shocky, her gaze jumping all over as if she expected the next knife to come straight at her.
Lily took a single step, then stopped. Beth would have to wait.
Benedict was speaking urgently to Isen. Rule had moved away when she released his hand, and now he replaced Shannon, folding Cynna up in his arms. Several men had formed a perimeter around them, facing out—the guards, watching for another attack.
What the hell had happened?
Finally the operator came back on the line. “A naval medevac copter is taking off now. ETA ten minutes. Please stay on the line while I—”
“No,” Lily said. She disconnected and went to Rule.
“You’ve called out the Navy,” he said, raised eyebrows making a question of it.
“A naval helicopter.” For the first time, she’d used the code Unit agents were allowed to use in an emergency, one that let them call on federal forces, including the military. There might be trouble over that later. “They’ll be here in about ten minutes. We need to clear the field, make a place for them to land. When we do, I want to separate my witnesses.”
“Your witnesses?”
“For now.” She had no reason to think she had jurisdiction, but . . . but dammit to hell, that was Cullen lying on the ground. Someone had nearly killed him. “The nine-one-one operator will have notified the sheriff’s department, of course, but I can get things started.” Movement at the end of the field snagged her attention.
A burly man with brown hair was running flat-out toward them carrying roughly two hundred pounds of little old lady. She wore an unfitted cotton dress with an embroidered yoke and yards and yards of crinkly apple green that would have reached her ankles if she’d been standing. Lily knew how long the dress was because she’d seen the woman standing earlier. Her hair was short and white as milk. Her eyes were milky, too.
The Nokolai Rhej was entirely blind. It didn’t slow her down much, but her age did. Enough, at least, that she put up with what had to be a bumpy ride.
“Damn, boy,” the Rhej said when he stopped, his chest heaving, his body shiny with sweat. Even a lupus could tire after a three-mile run while carrying so many lumpy extra pounds. “One of us is out of shape, huh?” She chuckled as he put her down. Her face turned toward Cynna, those blind eyes seeming to pick her out easily. “You’re not crying. Good. Don’t, not yet.”
She waddled forward. The Rhej couldn’t see, no—but she didn’t have to. She was the strongest physical empath Lily had ever met. She knew her surroundings in a way most people couldn’t.
Cynna met her and put a hand on her shoulder, bending to say something Lily couldn’t catch. The Rhej shook her head, spoke quietly, then patted Cynna and moved up to stand behind Nettie. Cynna circled Cullen. As she started to lower herself to the ground, Benedict moved quickly to help her.
“Hannah,” Isen said.
That was the Rhej’s name, but normally no one used it. Even if you’d been given permission, you didn’t use a Rhej’s name in public. Apparently the Rho could, though. Lily felt a familiar frustration. No matter how much she learned about Rule’s people, there always seemed to be more she didn’t know.
“Isen.” The Rhej gave him a nod. “How much?”
“I want him alive, and we’re not in combat.”
“Good. Nettie’s going to need it.” With that the old woman put her hands on Nettie’s shoulders and closed her eyes.
Lily moved closer to Rule to ask quietly, “What’s she doing?”
“Feeding Nettie power. From the clan. She . . .” He stopped. Swallowed. “They’ve done this before. The Rhej can’t heal—it isn’t her Gift—but she can shape the power so Nettie can use it.”
Lily dragged in another breath, let it out slowly. “What the hell happened?”
“I wasn’t close enough to see. I heard Cynna cry out, so I came running. Cullen was down. I smelled blood. I didn’t see any, but I knew he’d been injured. I gave the alert for an attack.”
A middle-aged woman seated on the ground nearby spoke, her face incredulous. “But you were there, Rule. I saw you. You were standing right behind Cullen.”
“No, he wasn’t,” the man on her right said. “I was beside you, Sandra, and I didn’t see Rule until he came running up.”
“He was there,” she insisted.
Sandra was not going to make a good witness, but maybe someone with Rule’s height and coloring . . . ? Lily glanced at her watch. “We have to get the field cleared.”
“I’ll do that,” Isen said from behind her.
She turned and met his eyes.
Isen Turner wasn’t a short man, but neither was he as annoyingly tall as his sons. His eyes were the color of wet bark, topped by bushy brows that lacked the elegance of Rule’s. Those eyes blazed now in a face gone still.
He was furious. In complete control, but beneath that, the beast raged. Startled, she spoke formally. “Thank you. I need possible witnesses separated from the rest. Also from each other, as much as possible. I don’t want them discussing what they saw or thought they saw. I need to be sure no one leaves, too.”
“They won’t leave. They won’t discuss it if I tell them not to.”
She wondered at his cooperation. Lupi were not known for welcoming the authorities into their affairs, and Isen would see this as a Nokolai matter. “You’re accepting my authority in this?”
“I accept necessity. You’re Nokolai. You will handle this.”
“Uh . . . for now. The dispatcher will have notified the sheriff’s department.”
“So Benedict told me. He’s notified the guards at the gate to admit whoever they send, but you’ll be in charge.”