They hadn’t had to die. None of them had had to die today. The bastard was killing people on her watch. “The fire was a distraction. But why a bomb? Why didn’t he just put people to sleep, go in, and kill Cullen?”
“He doesn’t know us. Lupi, I mean. He doesn’t know what will work on us, but a major explosion will kill pretty much anyone.”
That made sense. “You said you saw the perp plant the bomb. Did you see his face?”
“I didn’t actually see him plant it. I saw him emerge from the alcove. I couldn’t make out his features—visibility was very poor. He’s a small man, neither bulky nor tall. Dark hair. He wore scrubs.”
“How did you know he was the perp?”
“At the time, it was instinct. But he was awake. He ran when he saw me.”
She nodded. “Tell me what happened.”
He did. When she learned Rule’d been in an elevator when the power went out, her breath hitched. That had been bad for him. He’d coped, though. He’d gotten the candy striper out, and himself—then shimmied up the elevator cable.
By the time he finished, Lily’s shirt was sticking to her back. She reminded herself that her three-hundred-and-some-odd-year-old grandmother had climbed these stairs in this heat. She could, too.
That’s why you didn’t mind waiting, isn’t it? she thought at Sam. You knew Grandmother was coming here. You were waiting for her.
Sam didn’t answer, but she caught a whiff of response that felt a lot like the way Grandmother snorted when you said something stupidly obvious.
He didn’t tell her to vocalize. Did that mean she was thinking more clearly? Or was she doing something approaching real mindspeech? How could she tell? She half expected Sam to comment on that thought—something along the lines of, “If you would learn proper mindspeech . . .”
“Sam wants me to learn mindspeech,” she said abruptly.
Rule spoke from behind her. “Do you want to?”
“I don’t know. It seems like I should. Mindspeech could come in handy in some situations, but what’s the downside? There’s always a downside. And how long would it take? I don’t have a lot of free time for adult education. I guess I don’t know enough about it. I’ll need to ask him some questions before I decide.” She grimaced at the stairs rising steeply ahead. “At least with mindspeech I wouldn’t have to worry about having a conversation when I’m out of breath.”
“It’s only one more flight. I could carry you.”
She heard him grinning, dammit. She didn’t have to look. “With an injured arm? No, just shut up before you get me in trouble. The heat’s making me grouchy.”
He didn’t say a word. Just moved up beside her and took her hand. And it did help. Some of her tension and grouchi ness slid right out.
It was still a relief to reach the fourth floor, open the door, and step into cooler air. A burned stink lingered, but otherwise . . . “Looks pretty calm,” she observed.
“More so than when I was here last,” he said dryly. “About those casualties . . . do you know if any of them were named Maria?”
She looked at him curiously. “Sorry, no. I didn’t get names. Do you want me to find out?”
“No, it doesn’t matter.”
She was sure it did, but didn’t press him. She’d find out about Maria later.
“You’ve the look of a dozen questions ready to erupt.”
“Oh, I’ve got questions.” Many of them jotted down in her notebook, dammit, which was in T.J.’s car. “Lots of whys. Why does the sorcerer want to kill Cullen so badly? Why did Grandmother come out of hiding? Why did the Chimei show up now instead of last year or ten years ago or next year?”
“I’ve a guess about the last one. The Turning.”
She nodded. She’d thought that herself, but it didn’t really explain anything. The Turning hit last December. Why had it taken the Chimei months to show up? Had she been in China? It might take time to get her lover out of that country, even with magic helping them along. Or had she been unready in some way until now? Could they do anything to make her unready again?
Lily didn’t know enough. That’s why she was headed for Cullen’s room instead of managing the initial investigation. Grandmother was there, and Sam was near, and they had answers.
They’d reached the alcove that led to the quarantine rooms. They’d dusted for fingerprints, Lily saw. Good. The sorcerer was probably too professional to have made that mistake, but he’d expected everything here to go boom. He might have been careless.
Max was parked in front of Cullen’s door, arms crossed and glaring. “Do you have any idea how boring this is?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Seems like you’ve had more than enough excitement today.”
“Doesn’t count if you sleep through it.”
Ah, so that was it. He was mad that he’d missed the fun—or maybe he felt guilty that he’d failed. There was nothing he could have done to keep the sleep spell from working, but guilt isn’t always reasonable. Lily was sure sympathy would piss him off, but had no idea what might help.
Rule shook his head. “Your power nap doesn’t seem to have refreshed you much.”
“If you think that I could fucking help falling asleep—”
“I don’t. Do you?”
Max glowered at him. After a moment he muttered, “Smart ass,” and turned and shoved the door open. “The dynamic duo is here, so we might as well go.”
“Go?” Lily said.
Nettie joined Max at the door. “I’m needed to finalize the arrangements to move Cullen. Things are a mess, with so many patients needing transport to other hospitals, but Cynna persuaded the administration to make Cullen a priority. Max is going with me to be sure whoever I speak with is who he or she seems to be.”
That made sense. The sorcerer was probably gone—but “probably” could sure as hell trip you up. “Good. Max, bear in mind that this guy could have confederates who lack magic but possess guns. We don’t know much about him.”
“We know he’s powerful,” Rule said. “Max is pretty resistant to magic. It took a powerhouse of a spell to knock him out.”
Lily didn’t smile, but she wanted to. He’d made sure Max heard that.
The scene in Cullen’s hospital room was much like the one last night. Cynna stood on one side of Cullen’s bed. He was awake again, but pale. Jason was on the other side, doing something to the IV drip. Of course, this time Grandmother was there, too, in the room’s only chair.
Lily tossed her jacket on the spare bed, empty now, and went to Cynna. “Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be sitting down?”
“So I told her,” Grandmother announced. “She is cheeky. She is also pregnant, so I overlook this.”
“I’ve been sitting,” Cynna said. “Except when I was taking a forced nap on the floor. I’m tired of it. What is this with everyone wanting pregnant women to sit all the time?”
“Extra weight, sore feet, aching back—”
“I’m fine,” Cynna said firmly. She glanced at Cullen, her worry clear.
“I’m not fine,” he said crossly, “but I’m not at death’s door, either. Let’s get started.”
“Those who are not pregnant and cheeky will sit on the floor,” Grandmother informed them. “I do not wish to bend my neck.”
Lily was not about to plop down at Grandmother’s feet like an acolyte. “Grandmother, I need to know why you came out of hiding now. What—”
Rule put a hand on her shoulder. “Lily, I have a suggestion. This is your area of expertise, and others here are superior to me in knowledge, years, and wisdom. Yet it might be best if I take charge of our discussion. Several of you are affected by restrictions that don’t include me. I don’t have to mind my tongue—or have it silenced.”