Lupi 06 - Blood Magic

you in trouble with your captain, but those people need to be moved out. Get some bullhorns. Any idea of casualties?"
    "At least two. The fire was confined to the third floor."
    Cynna Weaver wants you to hurry.
    Lily's head jerked up. What?
    The officer with the muddy mind has sent other officers to evacuate those in Cullen Seabourne's room. Cynna Weaver does not intend to comply. There is some logic to her position. While I do not believe the sorcerer is here, I'm unable to touch his mind directly, so there is a possibility he remains near and could finish his task. He would be a fool to linger when I am here, but we do not yet know if he is a fool.
    "Plus we don't know if he has others on his string who could... Uh, thinking out loud," she told the sergeant, who'd looked puzzled. "Never mind. Get the bullhorns. Do what you can, and I'll have a word with your captain. Where is he?"
    "The command post's in front of the arrival plaza, ma'am. The place where patients are dropped off." He hesitated, glanced at T.J.
    "Don't worry about my girl, here," T.J. told him. "She can handle Dreyer."
    The sergeant shook his head and muttered something. It didn't sound like he was expressing confidence in her ability to take on his captain.
    Lily thanked him and took off at a fast walk, veering back to the street to avoid the swarms of responders and their equipment. T.J. stayed beside her. She glanced at him. "I don't know Dreyer. Garcia headed Patrol back when I was in uniform. Do you know him?"
    "Yeah. He's a prick. Does the job, but he's a prick. Yappy little dog type."
    That was code from when he'd been mentoring her. T.J. compared people to various types of dogs. She'd often wondered what breed he thought she was, but had never dared ask. "Ankle biter?"
    "You got it. He's loyal, small-minded, territorial as hell, and he thinks he's a damned Doberman, so he won't back down from a threat. You'll have to use your owner's voice."
    She shot him an amused glance. "I should make him sit?"
    "Damn straight. Then give him a bone he can go away and chew on."
    "Sam said some officer here intends to arrest Rule. Maybe it's this Captain Dreyer."
    He considers that his name.
    "Okay. Uh - T.J., I'm talking to Sam now. Sam, you said the... damn." She could not use the word Chimei. It wouldn't move from her brain to her mouth. "The out-realm perp isn't here, but you can't tell if the sorcerer is or not."
    I did not say that. A whiff of displeasure accompanied those words. I said I cannot touch the sorcerer's mind directly. I can, however, infer his presence or absence in other ways. These methods do not offer complete accuracy, but they strongly suggest he has left the area.
    "The sorcerer has shields like Cullen's?"
    He is shielded, obviously, but not like Cullen Seabourne. Cullen Seabourne's shields are... unexpected. I know of only one being who could construct layered shields of that specificity, strength, and sophistication, but he has been dead for several hundred years. I had always believed he did not share his technique with anyone, yet his shields appear to have been re-created. It is impossible that Cullen Seabourne did this himself.
    In fact, he hadn't. Yet some perversity made her want to argue with Sam. "Cullen's pretty bright."
    A primitive tribesman might be brilliant, but you would be astounded if he painted an exact duplicate of the Mona Lisa without ever seeing it.
    Rule had been right. Sam was deeply curious about Cullen's shields.
    I look forward to discussing them with him, true, but I would not characterize my interest as you have.
    She scowled. "Quit peeping in my head."
    Learn proper mindspeech and you will control which thoughts you share.
    Another reference to her learning mindspeech. How un-subtle of him.
    That was unusual. So was his chattiness today. She couldn't remember when he'd answered so many questions, even volunteering information she hadn't asked for. Of course, she couldn't remember a lot of her interactions with him. Most of them had happened in Dis to the other Lily, the one whose silent soul shared space with her.
    Some people would say that the other Lily was her. Same soul, same person, right? And in an obscure, underneath-it-all sense, that was true, but it didn't feel that way. She didn't hold those memories. Now and then one brushed against her conscious mind, but they always evaporated quickly, like mist in the desert.
    "You going to claim this for your crowd?" T.J. asked.
    "I don't know. Did