Ritual Magic

anticipated such a thing, much less kept it from happening? He pushed to his feet and then stood there, trying not to pace. Deep inside where that drumbeat pounded, words held no sway. Deep inside, he knew only that he’d failed. Failed Julia and failed Lily. Julia was part of the war because of him. It had been up to him to protect her, and he’d failed.
    He took a slow breath to calm himself. God, he hated hospitals.
    His eyes fell on the black leather purse sitting primly on the beside table. Edward Yu was a highly logical man, yet he’d insisted that Julia should have her purse. That made no sense. All the familiar detritus of Julia’s life had no meaning to her now, but logic broke down under such an onslaught of emotion.
    There was a slim leather folder tucked into one outside pocket of that purse. His heart heavy, Rule pulled out that folder. He knew what it held—a notebook containing all the plans for the wedding, written in Julia’s slanting, impeccable script.
    Lily often found her mother difficult, he knew. He understood why, but he’d enjoyed collaborating with Julia on the wedding. She was pushy, yes, and inclined to hold a very high opinion of her opinions. But once they’d established that Rule could not be pushed somewhere he didn’t wish to go, they’d dealt with each other quite well. Julia was a natural organizer, and she’d taken such pleasure in arranging her daughter’s wedding. Every detail interested her. Every detail mattered.
    Every detail was written down in the notebook he held now. That was fortunate, for Julia remembered none of them now. Sorrow tightened Rule’s throat. He tucked the folder into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
    On the other side of the door to Julia’s room, Chris spoke. “Madame Yu is coming with a lady who looks like the one you’re expecting.”
    “Very good. Admit them when they arrive.” Grandmother had arranged for a family member with a nursing degree to relieve Rule. The woman had been chosen for her training, of course, but also because the twelve-year-old Julia hadn’t known her. Julia was most distressed by those she’d known who were now so much older. Rule had asked Grandmother to escort the woman here herself. He had guards at the door to Julia’s room and guards with the rest of her family . . . guards who would be useless against the kind of attack that had struck Julia, but it was all he knew how to do. All he could do.
    Rule heard Chris’s respectful greeting. He carefully smoothed out his face. The door opened, and Madame Yu entered with a woman in her forties with the kind of cushiony body that made children think of laps, hugs, and cookies.
    Madame Yu looked at Julia, then at Rule. She frowned. “You must stop that.”
    He blinked. “Ah—stop what?”
    “Never mind. We have no time now, but you and I will talk later. Jin, do you require anything?”
    “Not a thing, Grandmother.”
    Madame Yu was not this woman’s grandmother. Jin Zimmerman was the sister of a woman who’d married one of Lily’s cousins. But “cousin” was an elastic term in Lily’s family, encompassing first, second, and third cousins as well as their spouses, offspring, and sometimes other relatives. It could be confusing, especially since not all cousins were called cousin. Those of Lily’s parents’ generation or older were “aunt” or “uncle” to her generation—a more respectful title to indicate their status in the clan.
    Not clan, he reminded himself. Family. The similarities between her family and his clan were obvious, but the differences mattered. Madame Yu might hold a position similar to Rho, but she had no mantle to enforce her will, nor would challenges to her authority be settled physically.
    “Rule,” Madame Yu said, “this is Lily’s cousin Jin Zimmerman. Jin, this is Rule Turner. I go to the meeting room now. Rule, you will bring Lily there when she arrives.” Having delivered her instructions, she left.
    “It’s good to meet you, Mrs. Zimmerman,” Rule said.
    “Make it Jin,” she said placidly. “How’s my patient?”
    “Physically well enough. Sam says she’ll sleep for at least eight hours, so your duties should be light.”
    “Who’s Sam?”
    “The black dragon. He put her to sleep.”
    “Oh. Yes, I was told about that. He will take some getting used to. I’ve never had a dragon treating one of my patients.”
    She didn’t seem alarmed at the prospect. “I’m not sure one can get used to