Lupi 08 - Death Magic

“Jesus. Who’s the mountain?”
    Lily stopped a couple paces away. It was Mullins, all right. She kept her voice low. “You said you wanted backup. He’s mine. This is 1223 Hammond, not 1225.”
    “So sue me. I lied. I picked you to call because they wanted to take you out, so you’re probably not one of them, but I don’t know for sure.”
    “Who’s they?”
    “I wish to hell I knew. The house behind us”—he gave a quick jerk of his head to indicate the rear of the house—“I think that’s where they’ve been conducting their rites. That death magic shit. They’ve got Sjorensen and fourteen others stashed there, drugged and unconscious. There’s four thugs watching the place—three in the house, one out back.”
    “How do you know all this?”
    “How do you think? I got a tip, checked it out. We’ve got to move fast. Come on.” He turned, easing back into the deep shadow between the houses.
    Lily didn’t really trust him. She followed anyway. It was so dark she trailed a hand along the side of the house to keep her bearings. A couple steps in, it occurred to her she was being stupid. One of them was able to see a lot better than the others. “Mike. Take point.”
    She couldn’t see Mullins, but the sound of his footsteps stopped. She felt more than heard Mike move past—and keep going.
    Maybe Mike had heard something. It wasn’t smell that tipped him off, not with the wind at their backs. Maybe he just decided to show initiative. He rushed to the back of the house, where he turned and leaped at someone or something out of sight.
    “Shit,” Mullins whispered.
    Lily took two quick steps forward and jammed her gun into Mullins’s back. “Keep moving.”
    He sighed heavily, but obeyed. They rounded the corner, Mullins first. Lily’s heart pounded madly.
    Mike had a man on the ground, pinned with an armlock. Lily couldn’t see the man’s face, but something about the build was familiar.
    A low voice grated, “Get this son of a bitch off me.”
    Drummond. It was Al Drummond.
    “Look,” Mullins whispered, “I didn’t tell you about Drummond because you wouldn’t have come. But he’s the one who tipped me.”
    She grimaced. “He’s with them. The death magic, the attack on Ruben—he’s part of all that.”
    “Yeah.” The single syllable ached with sadness. “I know.”
     
     
    EN route, Rule tried and failed to reach Deborah. He called his father and told him about the elementals—maybe D.C. wasn’t the only city where they’d been summoned. He called the guards who’d been stationed at Ruben’s house, and—because Lily had insisted—he called Abel Karonski. And he called Harry.
    Parking was always a problem near the Mall, and it was impossible today. They ended up leaving the van in an illegal spot four blocks from Pennsylvania and running the rest of the way—across Constitution Avenue, which took some expert dodging, and between the Natural History Museum and the American History Museum. When they reached Madison Drive, they stopped.
    Madison had been closed to traffic for the occasion. Just past it lay a stretch of grass, then the broad pedestrian path that outlined the central area; imitation gas streetlights provided plenty of light for lupus eyes.
    The dawn prayer service that would kick off the daylong rally would start in forty minutes or so, and the Humans Firsters were gathering. At the east end of the Mall, a tall stage had been erected. Unlike most, it was closed on the front and sides, giving it a very finished appearance. The stage was backed by the Capitol Building—which was partly obscured by an enormous Jumbotron screen so distant ralliers wouldn’t miss a single twitch of their leaders’ faces.
    It all looked very peaceful at the moment . . . and crowded. Rule didn’t know how to estimate crowd size the way Lily could have, if she’d been here. If only—
    Enough . She was doing what she had to do. So was he. She’d promised to live. And by all that was holy, he would hold her to that promise.
    So he’d take his best guess. The crowd was certainly not the quarter of a million that Humans First claimed had signed up for their rally, but it was large. Perhaps ten thousand people had gotten up well before dawn to get a good spot, eager to show their hatred for lupi.
    “What do you see?” he asked Cullen softly.
    “Too damn many people,” he muttered, giving the area a slow scan. “I can’t see through them, you know. Wait. Down by the