Lily looked startled when Toby careened into her, but she bent and hugged him. “He’s at the hospital. We don’t know yet what went wrong with him, but evidence indicates it wasn’t really him who shot those people. Something or someone made him do that.”
Toby pulled back, frowning hard. “They took him away in an ambulance, not a police car.”
“According to his Medic Alert bracelet, he has a pacemaker. What happened seems to have disrupted it—magic can do that—which made his heart act up. That’s serious, but he’s getting good care.”
“Did someone do death magic on him?”
Her eyebrows went up. She glanced at Rule. “Death magic is involved, but we don’t know how.”
“How could that make him crazy? Why would someone want to make him crazy?”
“I don’t know yet. It’s my job to find out.”
He was silent a moment. “That’s a big job.”
“Yes, it is. Good thing I have plenty of help.”
“And a sandwich. You should have one. Grammy and me are gonna make some.” Toby gave her a firm nod. “You like pickles, right?”
“Right.” Lily watched him scoot back into the kitchen, her expression baffled, as if she’d tripped over love unexpectedly and wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Rule felt himself smiling. It came as a surprise amid the day’s shocks. He went to her, slid an arm around her waist. “Children have a way of making parents feel helpless at times.”
She tilted her face up, perplexed. “I’m not . . . well, not exactly. There isn’t a word for my relationship with Toby.”
The lack of a word for her role bothered her. Possibly it struck her as untidy. He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Parent will do. Parenthood isn’t always biological.”
“I guess not. As parents, then, shouldn’t we be feeding him instead of the other way around?”
“He needs to contribute.”
He could see that click in place. Lily would understand such a need. “I’ll have to eat fast. My backup’s here—four agents from the Charlotte office. That’s good, but they’re regular FBI. No experience with magic, no background or training in this sort of thing. One guy’s pretty senior.” She paused, frowning. “I had them start interviewing the neighbors. I’ll interview Toby and Mrs. Asteglio myself—that’s half the reason I came in now.”
“And the other half?”
“I could use your nose.”
“It’s at your service, but what do you want me to sniff for?”
“I need to check out Hodge’s house before the ERT does. I need to know if he’s had company in the last day or two. We’re asking the neighbors about that, but you should be able to smell it if he’s had visitors recently, right?”
“As long as he hasn’t scrubbed with one of those ghastly pine-scented cleaners.”
“If you do pick up a scent, you’ll know if they were human or not.”
Rule’s eyebrows lifted. “You think you’re looking for an inhuman agent?”
“Maybe. Cullen called this morning, gave me some possibilities. One is that we’re dealing with someone or something from out-realm. Some kind of death magic creature. Will you do your sniffing on two legs?”
Death magic creature? Far be it for him to argue with the expert, but that sounded . . . just barely possible, he decided. “The wolf’s nose is much better than the man’s. I’ll Change again, though I should eat first, if there’s time.”
“Sure. Try not to shed in his house, okay?”
“I’ll do my best. Lily . . .” His voice dropped as his heartbeat picked up, a quiet drumbeat of unease.
“Yes?”
“I would have killed him. Hodge. He stopped me. It doesn’t make sense, but he did.”
“I guessed the first,” she said dryly. “As for the second . . . how could he stop you?”
“He tipped his head back, exposing his throat. He said—called out—that he didn’t know. I have no idea what he meant, but then he submitted to me. He’s not lupus, Lily. Beneath the smear of death magic, his smell was wholly human.”
She frowned. “So how could he know that baring his throat to you would work? I guess the information could be in an article he read, but . . . no.” She shook her head. “That’s not enough.”
“No, it isn’t. Human instinct is to protect the throat. I’ve a hard time believing a man in the grip of whatever had him pumping shotgun pellets into strangers could remember some article he once read and act accordingly with a wolf about to rip out his throat.”
She winced. “Getting a little graphic there. Why were you going to kill him instead of stopping him, Rule? I’ve seen you in bad situations before. You didn’t stop thinking, didn’t lose control.”
“I’ve never had both you and Toby at risk. And there was the stink, the smell of death magic . . .” But this time the explanation tasted false in his mouth. He shook his head. “I don’t know, exactly.”
“Could it have something to do with the mantles?”
“I don’t see how. If anything, the presence of two heir’s portions should give me better control, not worsen it.”
“But the new one, the Leidolf portion . . . you said mantles take on some of the qualities of their holders, and that one has belonged to a ripe old bastard for a very long time.” Her eyes widened. “Rule—if Victor Frey can somehow influence you—”
“No. No, that isn’t possible. The mantles . . .” He ran a hand over his hair, frustrated. Lily kept blaming the mantles for every oddity or irritation. True, the new mantle had influenced him a couple of times . . . When I snapped at her about Toby, he thought with a flash of guilt. But that was a different situation entirely. “There isn’t time to explain, and possibly not words, but Victor can’t influence me that way, and I can’t influence him.”
“All right. I’ll ask again later, though, for that explanation. This reminds me that I need to ask you something else. Cullen said—”
“Here you go,” Toby said, hurrying toward them with a plate in each hand. One plate held a single sandwich; the other, three. Three very fat sandwiches. “I’ll get you some Cokes, too.”
“I’ll just take a swig of your dad’s drink,” Lily said, accepting her single-sandwich plate.
Toby frowned sternly. “You don’t want to get dehydrated.”
“Oh,” she said meekly. “Right.”
“Here.” Toby thrust the other plate at Rule. “You know when you Changed like that, in midair? I didn’t know you could do that. It was awesome.”
Surprised, Rule smiled. “Thank you.”
“So is that why I felt it this time? Because you did it so fast?”
Shock hollowed out Rule’s skull.
When he didn’t respond, Toby looked worried. “Dad?”
Lily stepped in as casually as if they were still discussing sandwiches and soft drinks. “I take it you don’t usually feel it when your dad Changes?”
Of course she asked a question. Lily always had questions, which was just as well, because all Rule had were echoes in the empty place between his ears. Increasingly noisy echoes.
“Huh-uh. I thought I wasn’t supposed to until after First Change.” He brightened. “Maybe I’m getting close, and that’s why?”
He was nine. Only nine. A young lupus shouldn’t feel the tug from an adult Changing until he was very near First Change himself. And Toby wasn’t.
“I don’t think so,” Rule said at last, and blessed years of training because he sounded as calm as Lily—who had little idea what might be wrong. “We generally reach puberty slightly later than humans, and you don’t have the scent of one crossing into that territory. Your body may have stepped up production of some of the hormones that trigger puberty, but . . .” Rule paused, shook his head. “No. That shouldn’t cause you to respond to an adult’s Change, even one as emphatic as mine was.”