“Bribe some cops. You’ll want help finding and notifying the people on that list that they’re in danger.” She looked at Rule. “Let’s move.”
They did.
Lily had a hunch. The wraith was cold, unbearably so. That’s almost all she’d noticed at the time because it hurt her with its iciness.
But she’d also felt alone, horribly alone. And in her dream . . . in her dream, she hadn’t been the only one who’d lost someone, who was left alone.
Maybe she was projecting her own fears onto her memory of the wraith, but she didn’t think so. Beneath the wraith’s freezing cold—in addition to it, or maybe causing it—was a vast and terrible loneliness.
Had it brought the bodies of those it killed near its own, trying to find some company in death?
THIRTY-FOUR
THE woods were so different in the day. Sun streamed through green, spotting the ground with freckles of light. Lily walked along a route she’d walked before, in the dark.
So far, so good. No deadly ice creeping in. “It’s all so innocent now. You wouldn’t think there were bodies here, would you?”
Rule glanced at her. “You see innocence. I see a pleasant hunting ground.”
“Feeling wolfish today, aren’t you?” Or focusing too much on their differences. The loss of the mate bond had to affect him, she told herself. That didn’t mean he wanted to leave her. “Should we have brought Cullen to help? Or another lupus—Alex, maybe? Cullen’s probably best left to do what he’s doing.”
“If I can’t find the scent, none of the others could.”
That calm voice was getting on her nerves. “Both wolfish and arrogant.”
“The others,” he said imperturbably, “do not have mantles to help them.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to use them.”
“I used them last night.”
“Them?” She stopped and looked at him.
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I had the Nokolai mantle tucked away, but when I used the words of invocation”—he gestured widely—“it decided to join the party, too.”
“So are David and Jeffrey Nokolai or Leidolf?”
“Yes.”
Oh, shit. “That’s going to cause all kinds of trouble.”
“I’m aware of that. It’s tomorrow’s problem, however. Today we have other things to deal with. We need to talk, Lily.”
Oh, God, she was so not having that kind of conversation. Not now. She resumed walking. “Not a good time for it. I need to stay focused.”
“I can talk and walk at the same time.” He proved that by striding along beside her. “Lily—”
“Look, let’s just see if I’m going to survive first, okay?”
He stopped—and grabbed her arms, forcing her to stop, too. “You will live.” All that horrible calm was gone. His voice was low and fierce, and the dark slashes of his brows were drawn in a scowl over darkly burning eyes. “That is not in question. If there is any damage, Nettie will heal it. The mate bond will help.”
“Ah . . . the mate bond.”
“It must be restored, of course.”
“Your Lady hasn’t been in a rush to do that.”
“She’s leaving it up to us, as she usually does. We will catch the wraith and force it to give back what it took.”
“Give it back?” She stared, unable to believe what he was saying. He had to know better. The bond was dissolved by death, not stored on some shelf inside the wraith. “Even if we could, what’s this about it healing me?”
“Have you had a cold since we met? A stomach bug?”
She frowned. “I must have.”
“You haven’t. Nor any cavities, I think. None of the usual small ills.”
“I don’t heal the way you do. I’d have noticed.” She’d had enough assorted knocks and burns and cuts since they met to be sure of that.
“You don’t get sick, though. The mate bond increases your resistance to illness. It will help your body heal, if healing is needed.”
“Maybe, but . . .” She shook her head. If Rule needed to believe they could regain the mate bond and it would make everything all better, why argue? Reality would make itself known without her help. Personally, she was pinning her hopes on the fact that the wraith hadn’t been in her nearly as long as it had been in Meacham or Hodge. “Could be. I guess we’ll find out.”
“You’re humoring me.”
“Pretty much, yeah. But that means you get to say a big, fat ‘I told you so’ if you turn out to be right.” She knew why he wanted so badly to believe the mate bond could be restored. And couldn’t bear to think about it—so she wouldn’t. She started walking again. “We must be nearly there by now.”
He fell into step beside her. “The Lady tightened the bond earlier. She wanted us to remain close—and not so that an abomination could destroy it.”
“Could be.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t believe in violence toward women,” he said, falling back into that übercalm voice, “or I’d give in to the urge to shake you.”
She managed to grin, just as if everything were all right between them.
“If I’m wrong, and we can’t restore the mate bond—”
“Isn’t that the spot up ahead?”
“Dammit, Lily!” He grabbed her again and spun her around, his fingers digging into her shoulders. “We will talk about this!”
She jerked back. He didn’t let go. “You want me to tell you it’s all right if you go back to catting around? Well, it isn’t! Without the bond you’re able to go plant your seed in as many wombs as possible, and I will not—”
He smashed his mouth down on hers.
She shoved on his chest, turning her face away. Panting. “You can’t kiss me into agreeing. I won’t share you. I don’t care what your people believe.”
“Bugger my people.”
That shocked her into holding still. Rule had told her once that his people considered “fuck” a lovely word describing a lovely activity, and he refused to use it for cursing. “Bugger” was about as vicious a curse as he ever used.
His mouth turned soft, pressing kisses along her cheek, her jaw. Gentle, courting kisses. He spoke softly against her flesh. “Lily. We are idiots.”
Her body was kindling, her brain going fuzzy. She wanted to cry. She wanted to grab him and kiss him back. “We are?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He trailed kisses down her throat. “I’ve been frantic. Knowing how you felt about the mate bond, I thought . . . I feared . . . I’m afraid I had as little trust in us as you do.”
“I . . . It’s not that. I know what you believe—that the survival of your people depends on—on—”
“Planting my seed in many wombs?” He straightened, cupping her face, smiling down at her. “You’ll forgive me, I hope, if I say, ‘Been there, done that.’ I don’t want to do it anymore. Only you, Lily. I want only you.”
Her heart turned over. She could swear it just inverted itself in that moment, opening up wider, bigger. She slid her hands up to his shoulders. “They’ll put pressure on you.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “You believe I succumb to peer pressure?”
“Father pressure,” she said. “Rho pressure.”
“He’ll learn to accept my decision. Or not.” His thumbs stroked the sides of her face. “I was going to inform you that you were not free. That I was not letting you go, no matter what. I had quite the little speech ready, but you wouldn’t let me use it.”
Easy, so easy, to smile at him now. “I was too busy keeping you from telling me that, however regretfully, you were going to have to go on that seed-planting mission from time to time.”
“Idiots,” he said again, his eyes smiling . . . and his hands moving. Warming her breasts. “Both of us.”