They were in the larger of the two private dining rooms at the Golden Dragon, where the family held most such celebrations since it was owned by Uncle Chen—another “uncle” who was really a cousin. The party was smaller than usual this year. None of the children were here, and Grandmother’s companion, Li Qin, had broken her foot two days before. It was still too swollen to cast. She was supposed to keep the foot elevated as much as possible, so Grandmother had insisted she stay home. Plus, Lily’s younger sister wasn’t here, though for a very different reason.
“I attended the wedding of a colleague’s daughter recently,” Freddie was saying. “Beautiful girl. It was a very modern sort of ceremony. They wrote their own vows, and when it was time for toasts . . .”
Lily nodded and let her mind drift. Her mother had told them firmly they were not to make a fuss: “With your wedding so close, it’s too much to ask. Everyone is very busy.” By “everyone,” she meant herself. She and Rule were shouldering the bulk of the work involved in planning a major event, for which Lily was duly grateful. Perhaps a bit more grateful to Rule, true, because it was so obvious that her mother was having a blast.
Lily’s father had wisely ignored his wife’s instructions. Julia Yu loved being fussed over on her birthday.
That fuss had damn well better include presents, too. Lily’s gaze slid to the table behind Freddie. The table held over a dozen gaily wrapped packages. She grinned. Freddie took her grin as tribute to his story about the groom’s toast and chuckled and launched into a tale about someone else she’d never met.
Every year Julia Yu insisted she didn’t need a thing, not a thing, but they knew better. She adored presents—the bright paper and bows, the whole unwrapping ritual. Lily would miss it herself if they ever did skip the gifts. Her mother might be picky and perfectionistic about all sorts of things, but presents were different. Her eyes lit with delight. She exclaimed with pleasure over everything, no matter how odd or humble, and held it up for everyone to admire.
“So what did you get Mother?” she asked when Freddie paused.
“Why, I got her a gift.”
That meant he was dying to tell, but she was supposed to coax him. She glanced at her watch: 8:22. “Guess I’ll find out soon. She’ll be finished primping any—”
The first scream was loud and piercing and terrified. So were the ones that followed. Lily was on her feet and digging into her purse before the others got their dropped jaws working. She wasn’t wearing either shoulder or ankle holster, but she didn’t go anywhere unarmed. These days she carried a Glock 19—durable, reliable, accurate, and the clips held fifteen rounds. The pull was a bit long, but it was lightweight and she liked the grip.
By the time she slammed through the door, she had her weapon out and ready.
Barnaby and Joe were on their feet, faced out. “Hold your positions,” she snapped. The other two guards, Scott and Mark, were already on the other side of the dining room and moving fast as only lupi can. They turned into the hall that led to the restrooms. Lily followed at a quick jog, veering around startled diners and a couple of servers. The screams cut off when she was halfway across the room.
Scott reappeared at the entrance to the hall and smiled at everyone. Scott cultivated the geek look. He wore glasses he didn’t need and clothes a bit too large that turned his wiry frame skinny. If you didn’t notice how well he moved, you’d think he never did anything more strenuous than tote a laptop. “I think she saw a mouse or something.”
There were a couple of nervous laughs. Someone said, “Must have been a really big mouse.” More laughter as the roomful of people began to relax.
Rule was in that hall. The mate-sense told Lily that as clearly as if she could see through the wall. Had some woman with a phobia about lupi seen him and freaked? Could be. His face was well-known. Whatever kind of trouble had triggered the screaming, though, she probably wouldn’t need her Glock. Scott had put his back to the hall. He wouldn’t do that if something needed shooting.
Still, she kept her weapon in her hand, down at her side. Scott gave her an odd look, but stepped aside without speaking. As soon as he did, she stopped dead.
Mark stood a couple feet into the hall. Either he hadn’t drawn his weapon or he’d already put it up. A few feet beyond him, Rule stood with his arms around Lily’s mother. She was sobbing. Her hands gripped his arms. He was stroking her back and murmuring something. He looked up from his soothing to meet Lily’s eyes. He looked baffled.
“Mother?” Lily stepped forward cautiously. She’d never seen her mother come apart like this. Never. To do so in public . . . “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Julia Yu lifted her head from Rule’s shoulder. Mascara streaked her face in long black runnels. “I’m old! I’m so old!”
“You . . . you look great.”
Julia shuddered and wailed.
“I was coming down the hall and saw Julia,” Rule said carefully. “She looked upset, so I asked if she was all right. She reached up to touch her hair, then started patting her face. Then she screamed.”
“Mother—”
“I’m not your mother! I’m not anyone’s mother! I’m twelve years old and someone has stuck me in this old, old body!”
The last fifteen months had been difficult. Lily had killed. She’d died herself—or part of her had—and she’d seen someone die for her. She’d dealt with a wraith, too many demons, a Chimea, a crazy telepath, and a couple of really nasty elves. She had literally been to hell and back. But this . . .
For a long moment her mind was simply blank. Then she thought of psychotic breaks. Then she thought of magic. She swallowed hard and put her weapon back in her purse. “You’re twelve, you said.”
A vigorous nod. “It’s my birthday.”
Yes, it was. Only Julia Yu had turned fifty-seven today, not twelve. “Do you recognize me?”
“N-no. You look kind of familiar, though. Maybe we met sometime?”
“My name is Lily. You’re Julia, right?”
Her mother sniffed. “Julia Lin.”
Lin. Her mother’s maiden name. “I’m an FBI agent. Would you like to see my badge?”
“A real FBI agent?”
“The real thing.” Lily pulled her shield from her purse and held it out. “See?”
Julia Yu released her death grip on one of Rule’s arms so she could lean forward to peer at Lily’s ID. She didn’t reach for it, though. “It looks real.”
“It is. Have you heard about—” Noise behind Lily had her turning. Her father and two of her cousins were at the hall’s entrance. Edward Yu told Scott he’d better step aside right now.
“Edward,” Rule said, “give us a couple more minutes. Please.”
“I’m going to see my wife,” Lily’s father said. “Julia—are you all right?”
“Who’s he?” Julia said, her voice wobbly. “He’s not your husband, is he? He looks too old.”
Lily almost lost it. She swallowed and blinked like crazy and prayed her voice wouldn’t break. “Father. Give me a minute. Please. If magic’s involved—”
“Magic!” Julia cried.
Edward Yu didn’t answer, but he shoved at Scott. Who didn’t budge, of course. Neither of them was a large man, but Scott was lupus.
“Edward.” The cousins parted to allow a small, awesomely erect old woman to come forward. Her black hair was skinned back from her face and fastened in an intricate bun. She wore crimson satin, lavishly embroidered. Grandmother murmured something in Chinese that Lily didn’t catch and laid a hand on her son’s arm, adding in that language, “Something bad has happened. Julia does not know you. We will stay back so we do not overwhelm her.”
Edward Yu frowned hard. His eyes were frantic. “Not long. I won’t wait long.”