Lupi 08 - Death Magic

thing. They can’t know we’ve been tipped. They don’t know about Deborah, so . . .” Her phone beeped. A text. She grabbed it. Maybe Deborah had something to add to their too-short conversation.
    It wasn’t from Deborah. It was from Doug Mullins:
    Found Anna. Still alive. Others too. Need backup at 1225 N Hammond in D.C. Approach from FRONT. Bad guys behind me on Webster.

THIRTY-FIVE
     

     
    HE woke nameless and naked and clogged with dreams. The images choked him. He whined, but the sound frightened him. It was wrong. He was wrong. Shaped wrong. Bare and furless and—
    “Shh.” A comforting smell, a heartbeat and presence he knew, drew near. The leader. He was in his tall-shape, the furless one where his forelegs could grasp and hold things. At first that had been terrible, seeing the leader’s proper form vanish, replaced by the alien shape, but the leader kept doing it.
    After a while he’d understood that the leader wanted him to acknowledge him no matter what. To know that this one was leader no matter how he was formed. Once he understood that, it made little difference which shape the leader took.
    “You slipped into your other form while you slept,” the leader murmured. “That’s unexpected for both of us, but you’re okay. You’re all right.”
    Dimly he struggled after the words, the sense of them. Oh—he remembered words. Language. He hadn’t known he’d forgotten until this moment, when he remembered. He needed words now. “Dreams . . .” he whispered.
    “You dreamed?” The leader laid a hand on his shoulder.
    “We . . . go. We go.” He tried to sit up, but he’d forgotten how this form worked and thrashed awkwardly before managing it. “Stop them. Must stop them.” He panted as if he’d been chasing for hours instead of sleeping. Then more words tumbled out, surprising him because he didn’t know what they meant. “Albany. D.C. Albuquerque. S-San Diego.”
    The leader thought for a long moment. He smelled calm, and that helped. But he had to understand. Had to help. They must go .
    “Well, you’re breaking enough rules all on your own,” the leader said at last. “Why shouldn’t I break one, too? Ruben,” he said firmly.
    Something yanked at him. Something inside that twisted his thoughts, opening . . . opening . . .
    “Ruben. It is time to remember. You are Ruben Brooks.”

THIRTY-SIX
     

     
    “IT’S a trap.”
    “Maybe.” Lily gnawed on her lip. Was it really from Mullins? She had—maybe—been tricked by someone using Sjorensen’s phone. She texted back:
    Why do you have to beat women off with stick?
    He replied:
    Massive charm and intellect and my goddamn sense of humor. Hurry.
    “It’s Mullins.” She texted her reply— On my way. 20m. —then looked at Rule. “I have to go. If it’s a trap, I’ll just have to be smarter than they are. If it’s not . . . he says she’s alive.”
    Rule was rigid. “All right. I go with you.” He started to turn. “José—”
    She grabbed his arm. “No. Rule, you can’t go with me everywhere. You can’t. I need to do this. You need to lead your people. You’ve got a mix of Leidolf and Nokolai and they aren’t all—”
    “They’ll do as they’re bloody well told!”
    “José isn’t you! He doesn’t know enough to lead them into who-the-hell-knows-what with dopplegängers and elementals!”
    “I’m not going to leave you.”
    His phone sounded. It was “Dueling Banjos,” Isen’s ring tone.
    He released her and spun around, grabbing the phone like he wanted to choke it. “Yes.” His expression darkened, but he said nothing for several moments. Then: “You’re sure? . . . I see. I . . .” His jaw clenched. “Give me a moment.”
    He paced away, the phone gripped at his side. Turned and looked at Lily. “Ruben woke as a man. He had dreams—visions—and they seem to have propelled him back to his original form. He is not yet in full possession of language, but from what Isen pieced together, events will take place very soon in Albany, Albuquerque, San Diego . . . and here. At the National Mall. He’s already spoken to Benedict and Manuel. Benedict will take a troop of Nokolai into the city. Manuel agreed that Albuquerque was Ybirra’s to handle. Ruben . . . with Isen’s help, Ruben will lead Wythe to deal with events in Albany.” Bleakly he finished, “My Rho orders me to go immediately to the National Mall.”
    Softly she said, “Then you have to go.”
    He closed his eyes.