Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

and rested the tip of the knife on one eyelid. He adjusted
     the angle slightly and plunged it up into his brain.
    His own body fell across Alycithin’s.
    “Poor Dinalaran. He has atoned as much as he was able,” the copper-haired Benessarai
     murmured.
    “Ah, well,” Friar said. “We have a saying: all’s well that ends well.”
    “Time to tidy up.” Benessarai stepped away from the doorway and gestured. Four more
     elves flowed out the door. They wore leather pants in a variety of hues, but their
     shirts all matched his—white and long and flowing. They had great, long knives sheathed
     on their backs. He spoke to them in his language and gestured at the bodies.
    None of the four spoke. Their lovely faces were serene, unmoved by what was supposed
     to look like a murder-suicide. But when they reached the bodies, they handled them
     with great care. Dinalaran was shifted off Alycithin. Both were lifted, moved several
     feet away, and laid down once more. The elves began arranging their clothing and their
     limbs with finicky precision.
    Benessarai spoke sharply. The elves stopped and backed away.
    Friar looked at him and raised one lazy eyebrow. “You do not want the bodies placed
     in stasis?”
    “I must first assure myself that she is dead.”
    “Ah. You aren’t confident your people can tell the dead from the living.”
    The insult rolled off the thick armor of Benessarai’s arrogance. He answered with
     the sublime indifference of one who knows that little can be expected of the lesser
     beings around him. “You would not, of course, understand. She was an abomination,
     but half that abomination was Rekklat. With Rekklat, one always makes sure.” He glided
     forward.
    Robert Friar approached Lily. Behind him drifted a white, indistinct cloud.
    Drummond was back. It was ridiculous to be so relieved.
    Friar stopped in front of her. “Much has changed since we last spoke.”
    “Yeah, the last time I saw you, you were too busy escaping to stop and chat.”
    “Strange. I seem to recall you doing the running. You and all your wolfish friends.”
     His stroked her cheek with one finger and lowered his voice. “You won’t be running
     this time.”
    Lily’s mouth went dry. He sounded relaxed. He looked calm and at ease, but his eyes
     burned with feverish intensity. And with that single casual touch of his finger, he’d
     let her know he was brimming with power. Overflowing with it, power like nothing she’d
     ever touched before.
    She didn’t want to fear this man, but she did. “Benessarai did something to make Dinalaran
     kill Alycithin. A compulsion spell, maybe.”
    “Very good,” he said, as if she were his pupil and eager for his approval. “He is
     a wonderfully talented
seurthurin
. That is one who practices the arts of the mind. Benessarai would say that today’s
     events were Alycithin’s own fault. She failed to make sure her people took adequate
     precautions.”
    “Blame the victim? How very human of him.”
    “You may not want to say so where Benessarai can hear. I’m afraid he’s quite shortsighted
     about our species.”
    The copper-haired elf had knelt beside Alycithin’s body and was drawing shapes in
     the air over her open, staring eyes. He uttered some syllables, paused, then nodded
     with satisfaction, stood, and spoke to his people in his own language.
    “Really most completely dead,” Friar murmured.
    Lily hadn’t needed the confirmation. The mate bond was working freely again. She knew
     where Rule was—and he was close. Very close, but not yet here. They needed to stay
     out in the open a little longer. “Where’s Adam King?”
    “Inside.” Friar smiled. “I’ll introduce you.” He raised his voice slightly. “If you’re
     quite satisfied, I suggest we move inside. I’m not happy being so exposed.”
    Benessarai spoke without looking at Friar. “Patience. Who will attack when none can
     see us? We will have the remains in stasis quickly, but then the blood must be collected.”
     He waved at his people, who moved close to the bodies once more.
    “I am unable to help with that,” Friar said, “so I will await you inside where there
     is more tidying up to do.”
    “Oh, as you will, then.”
    “Hugo, bring her along.”
    The mass of fat and muscle gripping her arms shoved her—and she let the momentum take
     her to her knees.
    “Really, Lily, you can do better. If you don’t, Hugo will carry you.”
    The elves had stopped waving