Learned of it—or figured it out. He stroked his thumb along the curve of Lily’s cheekbone. “I can’t repeat what he said, but because of it, I may choose to retain Leidolf’s mantle when Victor dies.”
She stared. Frowned. “You don’t want to be Leidolf Rho.”
“No.”
“But you might retain their mantle, because of what Cullen told you about Toby.”
He nodded.
Her breath gusted out. “Huh. That would cause problems, wouldn’t it?”
And this he could certainly tell her, so he did. Briefly, because six thirty must surely be upon them, but even a brief telling of the possible consequences was grim.
“So your choice,” she said, “is to do nothing and hope Toby doesn’t contract the cancer, but the odds aren’t good. Or you can accept leadership of Leidolf for reasons you can’t tell me. The latter could cause trouble and turmoil, possibly even including some kind of war between the clans, and could well endanger Toby. Yet you consider it a valid option. Obviously, keeping the mantle somehow guarantees that Toby won’t get the cancer.”
He did appreciate her mind. “I cannot confirm or deny what you’ve said.”
“Hmm.” That came out almost amused. “You sure you aren’t a lawyer? Never mind. Are you honestly thinking you haven’t made the decision yet? Because I know which you’ll pick.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Do you?”
“Sure. You’ll go for Door Number Two. It gives you some control, some options. If you can get Leidolf to stop hating you, for instance—”
“Cullen’s suggestion,” he murmured. “Not that he knows how I might stop generations of distrust and hatred.”
“As to that—”
The doorbell rang.
“Damn.” She pulled out of his arms and dashed to the closet. “How much money have you made Nokolai over the years?” She grabbed another of her pretty jackets, this one yellow, and a black silk camisole.
“I do a good job with our finances, but—well, to put it bluntly, lupi are not humans. We don’t base our loyalty on money.”
“Humor me. How much?” She slipped out of the black jacket she’d been wearing and unbuckled her shoulder holster.
“We did well in the boom. I suppose that, allowing for inflation, Nokolai’s assets have roughly tripled since I began handling the majority of our financial matters. Certainly we need less drei than Leidolf does.”
“Drei? Oh, yeah, I remember. That’s your head tax. Now, Leidolf’s relatively poor, though it’s a bigger clan than Nokolai, right?” She tugged off her tee.
This distracted him, naturally, but after a moment’s silent appreciation, he said, “That’s right. Leidolf is the largest clan.”
Cami in place, she grabbed her ankle holster and strapped it on. “I need more clothes,” she muttered. “I didn’t pack for this.”
He considered asking if she meant to shoot Alicia, but decided she wouldn’t appreciate the humor right now. “I’ll take some things to the cleaners tomorrow, if you like.”
“That would be a help.” With her backup weapon hidden beneath the full leg of her black slacks, she added the yellow jacket to her outfit. “I know you’re not exactly human. I know that, but you’re awash in our culture, and your people are very conscious of power. I can’t believe lupi are oblivious to the power and security money represents. I know your father isn’t.”
Rule shrugged. “That’s one of the ways Isen differs from many of the Rhos.”
“Money makes Nokolai more secure. It can do that for Leidolf, too. Add increased security to the fact that you aren’t crazy and mean like Victor . . . plus the Leidolf Rhej likes you. Her opinion carries weight.”
“She won’t like me if I break honor and . . .” Wait. Cullen had told him the Rhejes knew about the way the Etorri mantle was shared. The Leidolf Rhej might guess what he was doing—especially if he did exactly what he’d already planned to do: have her examine Toby for any trace of the cancer.
The doorbell rang again.
“Shit.” Lily glared through the floor at whoever had arrived. “Why is there never enough time?”
“We have to make time for the important things. Like this.” He took her shoulders and kissed her as thoroughly as he thought she’d allow, given the guests accumulating downstairs. Long enough for her to soften against him and his own body to ready itself for something that, unfortunately, was not happening.
Not happening yet, he promised himself. Not yet, but soon.
He lifted his head, smiling and tasting cinnamon. “You make me clear to myself.” Because she was entirely right. He’d choose the option that gave him options, however difficult, rather than surrender his son to fate.
She smoothed her hands down his shirt. “I could use some clarity, so I’m hoping you can return the favor later. I, uh—sorry, but I’ll have to go back to work after dinner. Maybe I can bring you up-to-date, get your input. Not now, though. Now we have other dragons to face.” She grimaced and ran a hand through her hair. “Lip gloss. I don’t have time to redo my makeup, but lip gloss, at least.”
He handed her purse to her. She delved inside. “Oh, one more thing. You have to start saying ‘we’ instead of ‘they’ when you speak of Leidolf. They’re your clan, too.”
“It doesn’t work that way. Even if I wanted to—to be Leidolf . . .” And oh, but saying that left a sourness in his gut that warned him of just how much would have to change. “I underwent gens compleo with Nokolai, not Leidolf.”
“That’s when you’re accepted into the clan, right?” Her lips now shiny, she capped the gloss. “Which is accomplished when the mantle recognizes you, or something like that. Well, I’d say the Leidolf mantle recognizes you now.”
“Holding part of a mantle isn’t the same as being held by the mantle.”
“Is it a difference in degree, or kind?”
He opened his mouth . . . and shut it again. There was a flaw in her reasoning. Somewhere. There had to be. “I . . . There is a difference.” But was it a difference that mattered as far as clan membership went? If Etorri had, for centuries, been recognizing its members by investing them with a portion of the mantle . . .
“Rule.” She slid the tube back in her purse and looked at him. “I admit I don’t understand about mantles, and I know you’re mostly Nokolai and are accustomed to tracing your descent through the male line. That makes sense, since only males are lupus. But your great-grandmother was Leidolf. That’s why Victor was able to force the mantle on you. Which means you’ve always been part Leidolf, by blood. Now that you’ve got both the blood and the mantle, you’re Leidolf as well as Nokolai. It’s time you accepted that.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
DINNER could have been worse. Lily pointed that out to herself more than once as the meal progressed. The wraith could have shown up, for example, and a possessed Alicia might have stabbed Lily in the back literally instead of settling for verbal jabs. That would have been worse.
But easier to defend against. Alicia was smart enough to keep her digs under the radar—more like sprinkling too much salt than openly dumping poison. Lily didn’t think any of the others noticed. Normally Rule would have, but beneath his impeccable manners, Rule was distracted. Shaken, she suspected. Probably she’d picked a bad time to point out that he had two clans.
Fortunately, Lily was a side dish for Alicia, who focused most of her attention on her son.
Lily was seated close enough to eavesdrop. At first Toby was stiff, resentful. Alicia kept asking questions, teasing gently until she got him talking about soccer, The Simpsons, and his desperate need for a puppy, which his dad had promised to take care of when he moved to Clanhome. Lily was aware of the promise, having been in on the negotiations.