When she reentered the room, Alicia was talking about the possibility of joint custody “. . . on an informal basis. There’s no need to put Toby through the difficulty of a custody hearing if you and I can come to an agreement.”
“If our agreement is in writing and approved by a judge,” Rule said politely, “that might be possible—if Toby agrees.”
She tossed back her hair. “He’s nine years old. It’s wrong to put that kind of responsibility on him.”
“I have a question,” Lily said mildly.
Alicia looked surprised, rather as if a chair had spoken. “What?”
“Do you still despise lupi?”
“I never said—”
“Alicia,” her mother said gently, “you may not have used that word, but you’ve said often enough how little you trust Rule and his people.”
Lily nodded thoughtfully. “You know, it doesn’t strike me as healthy for Toby to be raised by someone who detests what he is.”
“He’s a little boy,” Alicia said hotly. “Maybe he’ll be lupus one day, but—”
“No,” Rule said. “He is lupus now. He can’t Change yet, but he’s lupus.”
Alicia’s gaze darted to James, who met her eyes. It was quick, over in a second—but Lily caught the flash of something like triumph in Alicia’s eyes.
Shit. “I really hoped you didn’t know,” she said softly.
Alicia flicked her an annoyed glance. “Are you playing the mysterious Oriental, or is that supposed to mean something?”
“You think you can keep Toby from becoming lupus by not allowing him to Change. Ever.”
Alicia was good. She leaned back with nothing more than annoyance showing on her lush and lovely face. James wasn’t so good. Guilt chased excitement across his oh-so-ordinary features before he settled on looking puzzled.
“Lily?” Rule said quietly. Just that.
She looked at him, aching. He’d guessed what she meant. By the tautness in his face, by the restrained fury in his eyes, she could tell he’d guessed. “Ruben’s hunch played out the way most of them do. Let me handle it, okay?” I know how to take a suspect down. I can do this.
He held her eyes for a long moment, and maybe he read her determination. He nodded.
“There is,” Cullen said slowly, “only one way to prevent the Change.”
“That’s right. Gado, it’s called, from gadolinium, the rare earth element that’s used to make the drug. The government developed the formula for gado back when it was forcibly registering lupi, but the use and manufacture of gado is now illegal—since lupi who are kept too long from the Change tend to go insane.”
“Nonsense,” Alicia snapped. “I know they claim that, but it simply isn’t true.”
“Actually, Alicia, that’s what the FBI says. It was the FBI’s Magical Crimes Division that used to trap lupi and administer the drug, and their records are pretty clear, though the government has not released them to the public in spite of filings under the Freedom of Information Act. But I’ve seen them. Half of the lupi kept on gado for more than a year committed suicide. Of the remaining half, thirty percent suffered psychotic breaks and most of the rest became catatonic.”
“Good God,” James said. “Alicia—”
“She’s lying.” Alicia was scornful. “She’s so besotted by him she’ll say anything. She admits these alleged records aren’t available to the public, so she can make up any statistics that suit her.”
Tempting as it was to slap the certainty right out of the bitch, Lily knew where the weak link was. She focused on James. “You’re probably aware that the formula itself is protected by law. You may not have realized that purchases of gadolinium are tracked.”
He flapped a hand. “Is that what this is about? You’re jumping to conclusions. I bought a bit of gadolinium, sure. It’s used in several other applications, you know, like MRI imaging. It has some intriguing paramagnetic properties, and I’m curious about how—”
“No, James. Whatever story you’ve concocted isn’t going to fly. Agents have already spoken with your friend—the one who retired from the CDC.” She glanced briefly at Louise. “The Center for Disease Control handled the manufacture of gado, back in the bad old days when lycanthropy was considered a disease with public health implications. James’s friend must have given him the formula for gado.”
James was still trying to tough it out. “I won’t implicate John.”
“Fine. There are agents at your house right now. They’ve found the wolfsbane.”
Rule growled. It was not a human sound. But it was Cullen whose control snapped—and Cullen was fast, even for a lupus.
TWENTY-NINE
CULLEN damn near got to James. He would have, if he hadn’t had to go past Rule to reach his target, but Rule was almost as quick as Cullen. He was on his feet before Lily could react, grabbing Cullen’s arm, spinning him around.
James squeaked like a mouse stooped on by a hawk.
The two lupi locked gazes. Cullen’s face was set, intent, but his eyes blazed as if the fire he could call was very near the surface. After one frozen second, Cullen jerked out a single nod, pulled his arm away from Rule—and left.
A second later, the front door slammed behind him.
Lily understood. Cullen had spent too many years as a lone wolf, and still had some anger-control issues. When fury flared too high, too fast, he got out.
“I don’t understand.” Louise’s voice quavered.
“Don’t you?” That was Alicia, her voice sharp with rising fury. And fear, Lily saw when she turned. The woman was terrified of lupi. “After watching that—watching them—he wanted to kill James! Didn’t you see that? Don’t you see what they’re like? An inch away from violence, always. I won’t let them make Toby like them! I won’t!”
Lily ignored her to explain to Louise. “Cullen understood when I mentioned wolfsbane. It’s the other key ingredient in gado. Wolfsbane is an herb with magical properties that interfere with a lupus’s healing. Without it in the gado, they’d heal before the drug could have much effect.” She paused. “It’s also known as monkshood or aconite, and it’s a deadly poison.”
“Not to lupi!” James protested. “To humans, yes, but lupi—”
“To lupi, also.” The growl wasn’t quite gone from Rule’s voice.
“It’s a quick-acting neurotoxin for humans,” Lily said. “A slow-acting poison for lupi. Even with the addition of the wolfsbane, they eventually throw off the effects of gado if it isn’t readministered. At least . . . the adults do.”
Her meaning sank in fast. James paled. “No. No, you must be mistaken.”
Alicia jumped up from the couch. “They lie! Can’t you see that? They’ll say anything to make sure Toby turns out like them—”
“Shut up.” Lily spun to face the other woman. “Shut the hell up, Alicia. Your hysterical determination to turn Toby into a human would have killed him. You were planning to poison your son—who will not be able to heal major damage until after the Change that the drug you fed him would have prevented!”
“Dear God,” James whispered.
“It’s not true.” Tears began to gather in Alicia’s large, dark eyes. “Mama, James—it’s not true. You believe me, don’t you? I’d never hurt Toby. He starts healing fast well before First Change. He told me so. That’s one of the signs that the Change is nearly on him.”
“Slightly faster, yes.” Rule’s voice was human once more, but flat. Utterly flat. “If you gave him gado now, he’d die in under a minute. Give it to him just before First Change, and it might take ten minutes or so to kill him.”
In the silence that fell, Lily could hear the clock in the hall ticking. A car passed on the street. She could hear the shush of its tires clearly. She watched Alicia, watched as the woman’s insane certainty began to crack.