Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

response in the cop’s headphones: “Fucking yes,
     you let him through. He’s fucking Unit Twelve. Unless the fucking terrorists have
     decided it’s nicer to knock people out than blow them up, we’re ass deep in some kind
     of fucking magical shit here.”
    The cop directed Rule to go to a Sergeant Bellows, pointing him out—a short, bald
     guy who was one of the officers with Tony. How convenient. Rule thanked him and moved
     forward, carefully restraining himself to a speed that wouldn’t alarm the humans around
     him. Carefully cradling his bad arm, too, because a show of strength wasn’t as important
     as shepherding his strength so he would heal faster. Halfway there, he nodded at Cullen.
     Cullen and Todd split off to check out the strange scent.
    The sergeant turned as Rule got close. “What the fuck? You’re not a fucking FBI agent.
     You’re that damn lupus guy. The prince one.”
    “I’m Rule Turner, yes. I’m also a consultant with Unit Twelve of the FBI, and I’ve
     reason to believe a federal agent was abducted from this scene.” Now he looked directly
     at Tony, whose arms were fastened behind his back. Tony looked like a big, sleepy
     bear. He smelled furious. “Why is this man in restraints?”
    “Violent altercation inside the bar. He won’t talk to us. Thinks he’s a POW or something—gave
     his name, then wouldn’t say one fucking word. I want to see your ID.”
    Rule took it out again and handed it over. The sergeant passed it to an older officer.
     “Call it in. Make sure it’s legit.”
    “Romano will talk to me,” Rule said.
    “Yeah? Well, he sure as shit better, or—hey!” His gaze swung to the left. “What the
     fuck are you doing?” He was looking at Cullen, who was down on his hands and knees,
     sniffing the sidewalk. “Goddamn loonies. Turner, get Romano talking.” He stalked off.
    Rule sacrificed Cullen to the sergeant’s wrath and started for Tony, who stood a few
     feet away.
    “Not too close.” A much younger officer stepped in front of him. “This man is dangerous.
     He’s lupus.”
    “So am I.” Rule allowed himself to move quickly, tired of the way everyone kept blocking
     him. He stopped about a foot from Tony—a distance too close for comfort. Challenging
     distance.
    “Sir, you need to move back.”
    “Let him be,” the older officer said. “Sergeant’s orders.”
    Rule looked up and met Tony’s eyes. “There are only three ways I can see that they
     could have known where to find Lily. One, our enemies have some new magical trick
     we don’t know about. Two, my men were sloppy and allowed themselves to be trailed.
     But it’s the third option that seems most likely. She was set up.”
    Tony still looked calm. His control was excellent…but not perfect. Rule caught the
     quick spike of
seru
in his scent.
    Seru
was sometimes the scent of anger, but more, it was the scent of challenge. Of dominance.
     It was an olfactory
How dare you.
Tony was able to submit when he needed to. He could obey. He looked and sometimes
     spoke like an oversize child. But he was a man, he was Rho, and he was dominant. He
     didn’t like Rule’s stance or his implicit accusation. “I did not set her up.”
    Rule continued to hold his gaze. “Will you pledge on Laban?”
    After a moment Tony nodded. Rule felt it when Tony drew on his mantle. Or rather,
     the mantles he carried felt it and responded in a way Rule had no words for, but recognized.
     “I did not set up Lily,” Tony said slowly. “I did not know what would happen. I don’t
     know what did happen. I pledge this on Laban.”
    Rule stepped back. “Thank you. If not you, then Hugo. Damn, I wish I knew where Mike
     was.”
    “Following Hugo. He was still in Dingos when I got there, but he made a commotion
     so he could get away. I distracted the humans so Mike could follow him.”
    “Did you break much?”
    “None of the people. Some furniture.”
    “You haven’t been answering the officers’ questions.”
    “I didn’t know what was okay to tell them.” He bunchedhis shoulders. “I don’t like this plastic thing. Can you get them to take it off?”
    “I’ll see what I can do. Officer Pearson.” He looked at the older man. “How can we
     get the restraints removed?”
    “You’ll have to talk to the sergeant about that.”
    Who was, Rule saw, marching Cullen this way. At least that’s what the sergeant thought
     he was doing. Cullen’s expression told Rule he wanted to