“You want to know if she was compelled.”
“I know you don’t think the staff can do that, but this isn’t adding up. She had these crosses on her bedroom wall and a Bible by her bed. And the boyfriend thinks she was a virgin.”
Rule’s eyebrows went up.
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Of course, just because a guy thinks a woman’s pure as the driven snow doesn’t make it so, but according to Sanderson, she believed in chastity until marriage. That put him off—he isn’t religious himself—but he was hooked. He kept hanging around. That’s what he was doing last night. He knew she loved to dance, so he went to the Cactus Corral to see if she was there, and sure enough.” She shook her head. “He’s messed up now because he didn’t try to stop her when she left with Harlowe.”
“He blames himself. That’s natural.”
“He knew something was wrong. She danced with Harlowe one time and then she left with him.”
Cynna shrugged. “Maybe Sanderson didn’t know her as well as he thought. Or maybe Harlowe gave her some roofies or K.”
“Maybe. We’ll see if anyone noticed her acting sleepy or drunk. But I don’t think Harlowe slipped the reluctant boyfriend a date rape drug.”
“What do you mean?”
“When Sanderson saw her leaving with a man she didn’t know, he went up to them. He asked her what was going on. And Harlowe just smiled at him and told him she’d be fine with him. And Sanderson completely bought it. That’s what’s eating him now. He thought it was just fine if she left with a stranger.”
Rafe knew where she was heading. “This isn’t the same as what Helen did to Abel. Harlowe didn’t erase Sanderson’s memories.”
She hesitated, then said quietly, “It’s more like what she did to your brother. Changed the way he thought about something.”
His breath sucked in, quick and sharp. Memory’s teeth only grew sharper when you turned your back on it. “Yes. She did do that.”
“The effect seems to have worn off on Sanderson pretty quickly. A couple hours later he was here, checking up on Kim. He didn’t buy the ‘she’ll be fine’ bit for long.”
Cynna looked skeptical. “You’re drawing a lot of conclusions from very little evidence. Telepathy isn’t the only explanation. For one thing, there are other Gifts.”
Lily looked at her. “Such as?”
“Well, charisma. It’s not as rare as telepathy, and if you put a good persuasion spell with a really strong Gift—”
“Shit, shit, shit!” Lily smacked her hand against her thigh. “I forgot. Karonski said something like that. That maybe Harlowe had a minor Gift of charisma.”
“It’s not in his report.”
“It came up when we were talking. He was speculating, I think. I can’t place the conversation, though. Can’t get it in context.”
That triggered Rule’s memory. “After he and Croft had been tampered with, when we met them in their hotel room. He was describing their meeting. He said Harlowe might have a touch of a charisma Gift.”
“It would explain a lot. Like why a devout young woman picked him up—”
“And why a man half in love with her didn’t object.”
“Whoa!” Cynna held up a hand. “I know I mentioned charisma as a possibility, but it would take one hell of a strong Gift plus an outstanding persuasion spell to alter people’s normal behavior and morals that much. A touch of a Gift wouldn’t cut it.”
“The staff,” Rule said grimly. “It changes the possibilities.”
Cynna shook her head. “Did Sanderson say anything about Harlowe toting five feet of black wood? Did any of the witnesses? Doesn’t seem like the sort of thing they’d let him bring into the club.”
“He could have charmed them into allowing it.”
“Or,” Lily said quietly, “maybe he has a ‘don’t see me’ on it.”
“A what?” Cynna demanded.
“A spell that makes people not notice something.”
Cynna thought about it and shook her head again. “Demons can do that, go unseen. But that’s innate, like Rule’s Change. Spells that duplicate the innate abilities of those of the Blood just don’t exist. Too complex by far. It’s like the difference between manipulating DNA and creating it.”
“And yet Cullen cast a ‘don’t see me’ on my apartment last night.”
“I’m impressed… if it worked. But your apartment’s stationary. A moving object would be a whole ‘nother story. A ’don’t see me‘ on a five-foot-length of wood carried around a crowded bar? Nuh-uh. I’m not buying it.”
Rule and Lily exchanged glances. “I’ll call him,” she said, taking out her phone. “He said he’d answer if— damn.” A white, American-made sedan pulled up, with a white, American-made van right behind it. The two vehicles parked, bracketing Rule’s car. The men in the car wore gray suits.
Either the FBI or the IRS had arrived, and Rule didn’t think the deceased was being audited.
“Weaver—”
Cynna grimaced. “Make it Cynna,.okay?”
“Right. I forgot. Try to get hold of Karonski. Find out if he remembers why he thought Harlowe might have a charisma Gift. 1 need to brief our associates, see what kind of equipment they brought. Rule—”
“I’ll call Cullen.”
“Thanks. Use mine. He’ll be more likely to pick up, since because he wants something from me.” She handed him her phone and headed for the newcomers.
Rule watched Lily as he punched in Cullen’s number. She’d told him once that a person her size either learned to move fast or got left behind. Not a bad metaphor for how she approached life in general, he thought. Her walk was brisk, efficient, utterly unself-conscious. And utterly female.
Then there was the way her hair swayed with her movement. He loved her hair. It was as black as a secret wish, shining in the clear light of the young sun, newly risen from its bed beyond the horizon…
“You’re really gone on her, aren’t you?” Cynna said.
Rule glanced at her sharply. As the phone rang on the other end, he thought of all he hadn’t told Lily. All he couldn’t tell her. She suspected he’d kept some things from her about Cullen’s search for the staff, and she was right. But that wasn’t the worst of his omissions.
He hadn’t lied to her last night. But when you slice truth too thin, you deceive.
The mate bond held them together, an inescapable gravity. But they had other ties—of affection, loyalty, duty. And sometimes gravity caused avalanches, mudslides, even earthquakes as opposing plates shifted, placing intolerable pressures on ground that wasn’t as solid as it seemed… “Yes,” he said at last. “I am.”
For once, Cynna’s natural extravagance was dimmed enough to make a mask of the web of patterns over her face. “I see. Well, I need to get my phone. It’s in your car, in my tote.”
“Here.” He gave her the keys, frowning as she walked away. After so many years, it shouldn’t have mattered to Cynna that he wasn’t available for fun and games. Apparently it did. He wasn’t sure what to think about that, much less what to do.
Finally the ringing was cut off by Cullen’s voice. “Changed your mind already, luv?”
“No,” Rule said dryly. “I’m still of the same mind I was last night.”
“Oh, it’s you. If you’re calling to pester me about the tracking spell—”
“I’m not, but I wouldn’t mind knowing how it’s working.”
There was a moment’s silence; then, grumpily: “It’s not. Not properly, at least. I told you it was basically an earth spell, didn’t I? Well, you wouldn’t believe how many blasted churches source in part from earth—which would amaze their parishioners, I’m sure. The earth energy gets all tangled up with spiritual energies, which creates a bloody blast of interference every time you come within a few hundred feet. I knew that would happen, so I tried tying it to air, too, but air is chancy, and with all the pollution—”