Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

nowhere.
    On impulse, she reached up and drew on the foggy mirror with her finger. Drew a simple,
     stylized bee—a crude representation of the
toltoi
charm. Which wasn’t exactly magic, but the halfling had taken it, hadn’t she? Maybe
     she had a reason. Lily stared at that silly outline the way Sam always had her stare
     at a candle flame.
Find me here,
he’d say. She stared at it and tried to find Rule.
    “M ORE eggs?” Rule said.
    “No, thanks.” Beth pushed the eggs still on her plate around with her fork.
    Beth hadn’t eaten much, but Rule let it go. Lily was always telling him he tried to
     stuff her as if she were lupi.
    He’d ordered enough for everyone. Madame Yu was still asleep, but several of his men
     had woken as soon as the smell of sausage and bacon reached them. As he’d known they
     would. He was doing Rho things. Taking care of his people. He wasn’t sure how much
     longer he could…
    LT230…stucco building, not near the water…hostage…trade me to Robert Friar.
    Rule’s fork fell from his hand. His head swung to the left. To the east. “That way,”
     he breathed. “She’s that way.”
    L ILY swayed, suddenly so dizzy she could scarcely stand. She gripped the sink with one
     hand and waited for it to pass. Her head swung to the west.
    That way. Rule was that way.
    Not that she felt him now, but she had. She had. For a few seconds while she was focused
     on the
toltoi
, the mate-sense had broken through. Rule was
that
way, and about ten miles away. Maybe a little less.
    When the music faded, she scarcely noticed. Then a lovely, musical voice replaced
     the Mozart. “Lily Yu. We never did settle the matter of your correct title, did we?
     I would like it if you would join me for breakfast. Sean, I regret the discourtesy
     of not including you this time, but hope you will join me for lunch later. Lily Yu,
     to respond you must press your palm to the wall.”
    Lily straightened, swallowed, and shoved her wet hair behind her ears. Her hands were
     shaky. She didn’t know if that was because she’d spent a lot of power, or if she was
     just scared spitless. Or so relieved she couldn’t think straight.
    All of the above, maybe. She took a deep breath and did as she’d been told. The magic
     in the wall still vibrated, even though it wasn’t making music at the moment. “I appreciate
     and accept your invitation.”

THIRTY-SIX

    “B UT what the hell’s LT230?” Scott said.
    “I don’t know.” Rule scrubbed his face with both hands. “Maybe that isn’t all of it.
     She was fading in and out—more out than in, I think.”
    Everyone was gathered around the table, looking at a map of the city. Rule had called
     Cullen to let him know: Lily was somewhere east of the hotel, and she wasn’t near
     water. She was possibly in a stucco building. He needed to call Tony, tell him to
     concentrate on the east side of the city, but they’d hoped to narrow it even further
     with that mysterious number.
    “If that’s only part of it,” Jasper said slowly, “maybe it’s from a license plate.
     California plates are usually a number, three letters, then three numbers.”
    “Maybe.” Rule stared at the letters and numbers he’d scribbled down as if the scrap
     of paper could yield some certainty. “I’ll call it in as a possibility.” He reached
     for his phone. Ruben first, to get the ball rolling on what might be a partial license
     plate. Or might not. Then he’d call Tony.

THIRTY-SEVEN

    T HE main room was much as Sean had described it. The sidhe might be using mage lights
     for their hostages, but out here the lighting was electric. One elf sat on the couch,
     doing something with his fingers. It reminded Lily of the way Cullen drew spell diagrams
     in the air, only she didn’t see the lines of light Cullen doodled with. He—she thought
     it was a
he
—wore the kind of clothes Rethna’s elves had, a soft blue tunic with darker blue pants
     and green boots. His hair was white and long and pulled back in a single braid.
    There was a big-screen TV across from the couch, tuned to a station that played pretty
     pastoral scenes and classical music. Mozart’s sonata was just ending as she walked
     across the room with the other elf at her back.
    Her stomach hurt. That was nerves…oh, use the right word. That was
fear
, and to be expected, maybe, but she didn’t like feeling this way.
    Her hostess and captor was already seated at the table. She wore a yellow tunic