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“About three years ago,” Jasper said. “He and I met at a party given by a mutual friend, and…this was before I met Adam, understand.”

Rule stared. “Are you saying that you and Robert Friar were lovers?”

“That’s not the best word for it. Affair doesn’t fit, either, because that implies a real connection.”

Cullen looked as dumfounded as Rule felt. “You hooked up with Robert Friar at a party.”

“It lasted about three weeks. I was coming off a difficult breakup and ripe for a fling, but I sure as hell chose badly. I’m afraid,” Jasper added apologetically, “that’s when he learned that you were my brother, Rule. I don’t remember how the subject came up, but it did.”

Rule was turning this new puzzle piece over and over in his mind, trying to make it fit. He’d done a great deal of research on Robert Friar. Nothing he’d learned suggested this. Friar seemed to have a contempt for women, but he’d been enthusiastically hetero all his life. And yet…“You’re saying that Friar is gay.”

“Bi, I think. There used to be a bit of controversy in the gay community about that, and a few still don’t consider bisexuality authentic. They believe you’re either gay or straight, and those who call themselves bisexual are fooling themselves. To me that sounds too much like what the right-wingers think about homosexuality—that we’re all fooling ourselves about being born this way, and they know better. If someone identifies himself or herself as bi, that’s good enough for me.”

“Did Friar tell you that?’ Cullen demanded. “He said he was bisexual?”

“I don’t think he used the word. Does it matter?’

“It might.” Rule was getting a glimmering of an idea. “This was three years ago, you said.”

“Roughly. Um…let’s see. He said he’d always preferred women, but had recently decided—or maybe he said he’d been persuaded—to explore things ‘on the other side of the fence.’ I’m pretty sure that was the phrase he used. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Friar is a liar from the soles of his feet to the tips of his hair, but that much may have been true. There’s a certain…call it a beginner’s enthusiasm, only it has less to do with experience than acceptance. When you first truly believe it’s okay to want who you want, you get giddy, extravagant, excessive. It’s like falling in love, only you’re in love with an entire sex. That’s hard to fake.”

“Rethna,” Cullen said.

Rule nodded slowly. Friar had been recruited by her just over three years ago. As part of his recruitment, he’d spent time in Rethna’s realm. “Elves are often bisexual, you told me.”

“They’re bisexual, period. Whether that’s innate or a cultural norm to which they all give lip service—pun intended—I can’t say, but they consider monosexuality downright deviant.”

Rule felt a tingle of excitement, as if he’d found tracks left by his prey. Old tracks, but they led somewhere. A bisexual Robert Friar was no more evil than the heterosexual version, but Rule’s understanding of his enemy had shifted. “I told Lily once,” he began. And stopped. Saying her name opened up the terror and rage, the primal need that was ready to explode inside him.

His wolf wanted out. He wanted out now.

For the space of three slow, careful breaths Rule rode the razor’s edge of Change. Cullen—who would know, who would smell it on him—didn’t speak. Out of lucky instinct or preoccupation, Jasper didn’t, either.

That was just as well, for where he was in that moment, words couldn’t reach.

Eventually the wolf subsided enough for him to find words useful again. He picked up where he’d left off. “I told Lily once that I think sex is Friar’s weak point. It is, of course, an avid interest for many and a twisted interest for some. With Friar, I think sex is both of those, and more. I think sex defines and controls him. Knowing that he’s bisexual matters. I don’t yet know how, but it matters.”

“If I helped, then good.” Jasper’s face was shadowed, lights from outside the car playing across it. “Your eyes turned black a minute ago.”

“I was resisting the urge to Change.”

“Not your clothes.”

“No.”

Another car’s headlights played over Jasper’s face, which for once wasn’t giving anything away. But he smelled ever so faintly of fear. “Does Friar know you intend to rip his throat out?”

“Oh, yes,” Rule breathed. “Yes, he knows.”

In the brief silence that fell, the buzz of Rule’s phone seemed very loud. He grabbed it. That wasn’t Lily’s ringtone, and he didn’t recognize the number, but maybe she’d gotten hold of someone else’s phone. Maybe— “Yes.”

“Rule, it’s Tony. I have failed you. I failed Lily. She’s gone, and there is one fucking big mess here.”

THIRTY-THREE

THREE ambulances and half-a-dozen patrol cars with their uniformed occupants were attending the fucking big mess when Rule reached the scene. There had been no getting here in the car; the streets near Dingos were jammed. Jasper had offered to stay with the car so Rule’s men could go with him. Chris and Allan would follow when they could.

The reason for the stalled-out traffic was obvious. Police had cordoned off the street where the attack took place. At least two cars had crashed when their drivers suddenly passed out, according to Tony, but Rule couldn’t see them right away. He pushed his way through the inevitable crowd until he could.

There were people everywhere. And bodies. No blood. EMTs, police officers, and what Lily would call civilians were tending the fallen, some of whom were stirring…the ones at the edges, he thought. The ones who’d been farthest from whatever magical attack took place.

Lily would not have been knocked out by magic. Something else had happened to her.

He didn’t see Todd or Mike. Too many people blocked his view. He did, however, see Tony, who stood a head and more above everyone else—including the two cops with him. “I need Mike and Todd,” Rule said. “Joe, I want up on your shoulders. Brace. Cullen, give me a stirrup.”

Joe planted his feet, Cullen cupped his hands and bent, and Rule used those cupped hands to launch onto Joe’s shoulders. He’d needed the assist because of his shoulder, which complained fiercely about being jostled. He ignored that. Crouched, he looked over the crowd until he spotted Todd. He straightened so that he stood upright; Joe automatically grabbed his feet to steady him. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

Todd turned and started loping toward them. Everyone else heard him, too. He gathered a lot of startled looks before he jumped down.

The cops didn’t stop Todd. Sloppy. If they let one bystander leave, others would, or already had.

“Where’s Mike?” Rule said as soon as Todd reached him.

“I woke up while Tony was talking to you. Then Mike did. Tony told us you wanted him to find Hugo. Mike went with him. I stayed out here to look for Lily or some sign of what happened to her. Rule, we—”

Rule chopped one hand, cutting him off. “She’s alive. I don’t know where. Tell me what happened, but keep it short.”

Todd’s story was short and told him little. He’d passed out instantly, without warning. When he woke up, the humans around him were all unconscious and there was no sign of Lily. Tony, however, had been awake and, as Todd had said, talking to Rule on his phone. Todd hadn’t found any sign of Lily—no blood, thank God—but he had found a scent. One he couldn’t identify. He didn’t have a very good nose in this form, however.