Lupi 06 - Blood Magic

when Cynna cried out. She knew he was telling the truth, but she had to confirm it.
    Not yet, though. She had to go be diplomatic with the uniformed assholes headed her way.
    "Lily," Isen said.
    "What?" she snapped.
    "Don't bite the nice officers." Someone had brought him a pair of jeans, which he'd pulled on while she was talking to Cynna. He zipped them now. "We haven't encouraged the sheriff's department to come calling."
    "You have some kind of understanding with them so they won't rush out to investigate?"
    "Of course not." He was bland. "That would be wrong."
    She snorted and returned her attention to the two men crossing the field.
    She couldn't see faces. There wasn't enough light. But she could see that both deputies were male; one was white, the other black. Both looked fit. The white guy was tall, maybe six-two, and slim; the black guy was shorter and wider. Not fat, not a bit of it, but built husky, like a smaller version of Benedict. He moved like a big cat, smooth and effortless.
    Lily's body caught on before her mind did. She was still wondering why the black guy looked familiar when her breath hitched. A second later, she knew.
    From ten feet away she could see that the taller deputy had sandy hair, a rookie's spit and polish, and the stiff expression of someone who hopes he looks tough. The other man had a wide nose, deep-set eyes, no hat, and hair buzzed close to the skull. He didn't have to try to look tough. He was the real deal... even if he did have a butterfly tattooed on his left cheek.
    Not the cheek on his face. The one currently covered by his crisp khakis.
    Lily waited until they stopped in front of her. She didn't bother wishing Isen away, but she did wish - fleetingly but fervently - that her sister wasn't here. "Hello, Cody. It's been a while."

 
    NINE

    Hospitals were tricky places for a lupus. The smells of blood and sickness are exciting to a wolf on a fundamental level; the injured and ill are the easiest kills. Not that Rule's wolf would wrench free to wreak havoc. His control was excellent, and besides, his wolf was no crazed adolescent, too easily excited to understand the risks or forget that humans are not prey.
    But the scents kept Rule's wolf edgy in spite of three of the most god-awful tuna sandwiches he'd ever eaten. And the man... the man did not like waiting. It gave him too much time to think. To remember.
    The first time Rule set foot in a hospital, he'd been only a little older than his son was now. Before First Change, a lupus was almost human. With his wolf still sleeping, the smells hadn't been as acute, or affected him the same way. He'd waited in a room much like this one, waited with his father and brother and a few other clan while Benedict's Chosen struggled for life.
    She hadn't made it.
    Some memories were better than that one, yet not restful. He thought of a time he and Cullen had gone for a hunt, just the two of them, below the border, and had gotten into a bit of trouble. That memory made him smile, but pricked his heart. He thought of the time - much more recent - when Cullen had literally gone to hell for him. To hell and back...
    He also remembered a time or two when Cullen, still a lone wolf, had damn near spun out of control - yet hadn't. He'd endured so much for so long, and now... now he had everything he'd ever wanted. A clan. A son on the way. A woman who loved him wholly... and wasn't that odd? Rule hadn't known Cullen wanted that. He didn't think Cullen had, either.
    Rule glanced at the messy blond head of his friend's love, currently pillowed on his thigh.
    The chairs made Cynna's back ache, so about thirty minutes ago they'd moved to the floor. This had garnered them a few odd looks from the room's other occupants, a small Pakistani family. Pregnancy exhausted the body; stress made it worse. Rule had encouraged her drowsiness with a back rub, and eventually she'd dozed off.
    Problem was, with her asleep, he no longer had the distraction of focusing on someone else's needs. He was alone with his thoughts and memories.
    He'd seen Cynna's head on his pillow a few times, many years ago. But it wasn't those moments he remembered now. It was the first time he saw Cynna, standing straight and strong and pissed when a man she'd been involved with at the time insulted her publicly.
    Rule had taken pleasure in making it clear that a real man appreciated a strong woman. Later, he'd taken even more pleasure in tossing the man and two of his friends up