Only Human

didn't have a lupus lie detector along on interviews, and she did okay. So what if she had to handle things the hard way here? Cops dealt with lying or reluctant witnesses all the time.
    But if she didn't find out who had betrayed the Lupois to the other clan, Rule's father would. Once he was well enough, he would look for the traitor himself, and his justice would be final—and administered by his son. There wasn't a thing Lily could do to stop it, either, if she couldn't find the guilty party first. Not if they fought in wolf form. Killing a lupus in wolf form wasn't murder.
    Lily was really growing to hate that law.
    After they finished their coffee, Rule changed clothes. He wore blue for her, as he'd promised—denim blue. A ragged pair of cutoffs. He looked magnificent in them, especially since he didn't wear a shirt. Or shoes, for that matter, but neither did most of the people she met that day. Lily felt seriously overdressed, but wasn't about to leave her gun behind. Since most people found a gun out in plain view distracting, she kept the jacket on.
    Clanhome was a shock of toppled preconceptions.
    Lily had pictured a patriarchal, heavily masculine society. Everyone knew lupi were always male and didn't marry. She'd expected to see a few women who were kept around to have babies, lend the children, cook, and clean. That's how men all over the world arranged things when they could, wasn't it?
    By lunch, she'd met Rule's uncle and one of his brothers, his first grade teacher, three of Paul's friends, several dogs, and an assortment of lupi... and Nokolai. That was a surprise, though it shouldn't have been: they were all Nokolai, but only some were lupi. Because only about two-thirds of the clan was male.
    When she made a rather foolish comment on the number of girls and women she saw, Rule said, "What did you think we did with our girl children? Drown them? Expose them at birth on a hillside?"
    She learned that between 350 and 450 people lived at Clan-home at any given time. There wasn't enough work here to support everyone, so some officially lived here but had jobs that kept them away a lot. Others lived and worked on the clan's ranch to the north, and the rest were scattered all over— how many that might be, she didn't find out. Most Nokolai came, when they could, to the gatherings held on the winter and summer solstices. And many of those who didn't live here themselves sent their children to stay for part of the summer... and their adolescent boys for much longer. To learn to control the beast.
    Lily saw a lot of children that day. The only wolf she saw was the one that had been sitting with the teenage girl when she and Rule first arrived.
    She visited the daycare center, which was attached to the clubhouse. The center was run by an older woman in a wheel-chair named Oralie Fortier, and staffed by volunteers—which meant pretty much every adult at Clanhome. These people were nuts about kids. While Lily was there Ms. Fortier had to settle an argument about whose turn it was to work in the baby room—three people wanted to, and there were only two babies there at the time.
    Two of the three insisting it was their turn with the babies were men.
    The clubhouse had pool tables, a weight room, a smaller room where dance and gymnastics were taught, a kitchen, and a library. It was the only place on the grounds with television. When they left it, heading for the school across a lightly wooded section, Lily quit fighting herself and tucked her hand into Rule's.
    He gave her a smile of such startling sweetness that her heart turned over. A second later, the panic hit.
    She was in love with him.
    No. No, this wasn't love, it was some kind of physical obsession created by incredible sex. Or magic. Whatever it was, though, it couldn't be love. She'd known him less than a week. He wasn't human, for God's sake. Besides, she'd been in love before, and this—this whatever she felt was different.
    Deeper. Stronger.
    Lily was thoroughly shaken when they reached the school, a U-shaped building with a courtyard in the center. There Rule excused himself, saying he needed to talk to his uncle. He dropped a kiss on her lips and left her with his first grade teacher.
    Arthur Madoc was another surprise—a tall, narrow man with a gentle smile and the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. He'd taught first grade for forty-seven years. The school itself reminded her of country schoolhouses she'd read about, with kindergarten in one