Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

Friar.…and he must
     be. He’d helped set up Lily.
    Maybe Rule knew who had the prototype now.
    But Rule didn’t ask the questions that were beginning to burn in him. Instead he asked,
     “How did you do it? How did you hold yourself together for nine bloody long days with
     Adam missing?”
    Now Jasper looked at him. At first he didn’t speak. His face said plenty, though.
     It spoke of despair. “What in the world gave you the impression I’ve held myself together?”
    “You planned and executed a remarkable theft. Youdidn’t fall apart when you were tied to a chair and bullets started flying. You complained
     about not being able to think, but you kept doing it anyway.”
    “I’ve screwed up every step of the way.” Jasper looked at the hands he’d clasped between
     his knees. “I’ve finally gotten around to really thinking, you see. You say you’re
     supposed to know where Lily is, but you don’t. Cullen’s supposed to be able to find
     things with his spells, but he can’t. It’s the same thing blocking you both, isn’t
     it? The prototype.”
    Rule kept his breathing even. He could fake calm, even if he couldn’t feel it. “I
     think so, yes.”
    “Then Friar’s got them both. Lily and the prototype. Which means I’ve nothing left
     to negotiate with. Nothing I can use to buy Adam’s life. Which means…” He drew a long,
     shuddering breath. “He may already be dead.”
    “We don’t know that. Friar wants Cullen, too.”
    “But does he need me to get him? I don’t see why.”
    “Listen to me.” Rule gripped his arm. “Adam is alive. Until we see his dead body,
     he’s alive, and we’re going to get him back. Just like I’m going to get Lily back,
     and quickly. To hell with what logic says. Logic hasn’t served us all that well, has
     it?”
    Jasper blinked. Took a shuddery breath, and straightened. “Right. He’s alive. Of course
     he’s alive. And we’re going to get him back.”
    “We’ll get both of them.” A quiet electronic gong sounded in Rule’s pocket. It was
     a ringtone he seldom heard, and it startled him enough that it took him a moment to
     say, “I have to take this call. That’s Lily’s grandmother.”
    “Oh, Jesus.”
    He’d have to tell Beth, too. And soon. Perhaps Madame Yu would take on the task of
     telling Lily’s parents. Rule steeled himself and answered. “Madame Yu—”
    “When were you going to tell me that something has happened to my granddaughter?”
     an imperious voice demanded.
    “You know? But—how?”
    She made a small, dignified snort. “Sam, of course. How would her teacher not know
     when she—bah, this language lacks words. She is hidden from him. He says she did not
     do this, and so we know that someone else did. What did they do?”
    “She’s been taken. I think…” It was hard to say. “I think by Friar’s people. I can’t
     find her. I can’t sense where she is.”
    “But she is alive.”
    “Yes. That much I’m sure of.” The rest came out without him having a clue he was going
     to say it. “It’s my fault. I tricked her, manipulated her into doing what I thought
     would be safer than going with me. I was wrong. It was a setup.”
    “Bah.”
    What?
    “You take too much on yourself.
I
can trick Lily. Your father maybe can. You? No. You are sneaky sometimes, but not
     so good as that. You think you fooled Lily? I think she got what she wanted. Now,
     I will be there as soon as possible. I do not know when. Planes are fast, but airports
     are not.”
    “You’re—Madame Yu—”
    “Sam cannot do this. He has foreseen certain events. He says it is not foreseeing,
     but I lack another word to describe his knowledge. He will be very busy today. I do
     not tell you more about this. Do not ask. He is busy, but I will come.” She hung up.
    Rule sat there looking at the phone in his hand.
    “She didn’t take it well, I guess,” Jasper said. “Hard to give that kind of news.”
    “No…no, you don’t understand. But then, you haven’t met her.” Slowly Rule looked up,
     relief blooming inside. He felt like he had as a small child, waking from some terrible
     nightmare to find his father’s hand on his shoulder. The sudden bone-deep reassurance
     wasn’t logical, wasn’t reasonable. But it was real. “It’s okay. It’s good. Grandmother
     is coming.”

THIRTY-FOUR

    L ILY woke to the soothing lilt of Brahms’s “Lullaby.” Her head throbbed and ached the
     way it had the time a