Ritual Magic

and Barnaby held a blond young man named Cory whom she’d met a few times. Ronnie and Mike gripped the arms of the other man, whose name she couldn’t remember, though she’d seen him around Clanhome. Not as much of him as she was seeing now, though. He was naked.
    Lily shut off the car and got out. “He was wolf when you arrived?”
    Rule nodded. “I told him to Change. He did. He and Cory tell me that Pete called about an hour ago and told them that Clanhome was closed. No one was to be admitted, no exceptions—yet he didn’t give them an alert code. He also told them to call him immediately if you, Cullen, or I arrived.”
    Her eyebrows lifted. “Did he, now. What did you tell them?”
    “Nothing yet, except that you’re going to check them for magic, and they are to hold still while you do.”
    Better get it done, then. Lily went up to the naked guy first. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”
    “Gene.” He looked more puzzled by the odd behavior of his Lu Nuncio than upset.
    She put her left hand on his bare shoulder. Fur-and-pine tingles . . . typical lupus magic. She checked his face in case this was one of those rare magics that localized, though the contagion hadn’t done that with Officer Crown. “Nothing.” She went to Cory and his two attendants.
    Her first touch, on his arm, told her this magic didn’t localize. Ugh. She checked his face, just to see if that made a difference, then stepped back and gave Rule a nod. “Feels just like what was on Officer Crown, but he’s only got a smidgen of it.”
    “I’ve got what?” Cory asked, confused and alarmed. “There’s something on me? Some kind of magic?”
    “I’m afraid so,” Rule said. “Cullen?”
    Cullen stepped close to Cory and walked around him, looking him up and down. Finally he made a square of his hands, using his magnifying spell to study Cory’s forehead. “It’s damn subtle,” he said at last. “I’d bet it gets brighter if she gives him an order—more power coming in then—or maybe if he’s carrying out an order. But right now there’s only a slight blurring over his brow chakra. Hard to spot without magnification.”
    Damn. It would’ve been handy if Cullen could have checked people for compulsion from a distance.
    “What is it?” Cory said, really worried now. “What’s wrong with me?”
    Rule looked at him. “I’ll explain in a moment. Did Miriam Faircastle come to the gate tonight?”
    “Yes. Around ten, maybe a little after. I could check the log.”
    “Tell me what you both said and did.”
    “She wanted to see Isen—something about an officer. ‘That poor officer,’ she said. So I called to ask. Isen gave permission and I told her to go straight ahead and the road would end at his house.”
    Rule looked at the other man. “Gene? Is that what happened?”
    “Yes, except that he left out the part about the weapons. And, uh, a bit of flirting. Miriam likes to flirt, and so does Cory.”
    “I didn’t flirt with her,” Cory said, indignant. “And what weapons are you talking about?”
    “You told her she had to either put her knife and gun in the trunk or leave them with you.”
    It turned out that Gene hadn’t been at the gate when Miriam arrived, but on his way back to it. He hadn’t seen Miriam or her car, but he’d heard them talking. What he reported of that conversation didn’t match what Cory said. But according to Rule’s nose, Cory wasn’t lying. He truly didn’t remember some of the things Gene said.
    Like being told a couple of times to forget things. That was part of what Gene had assumed was a flirtation. “What kind of flirty things did she say? At one point she told him he was a nice young man for wanting to help her out. I think she said he wanted to do anything possible to help her.”
    “Do you remember that, Cory?” Rule asked.
    “Yes.” Cory was pale.
    “Do you remember Miriam asking where Lily and I were?”
    Cory shook his head.
    Miriam had asked about Grandmother and Cullen, too. Cory didn’t remember that. Then Rule questioned Gene about where he’d been when Miriam and Cory were talking. More than two hundred yards from the gate, Gene thought. He was sorry, but he couldn’t be more precise. Not more than three hundred yards, though. He was sure of that, because he hadn’t yet reached that abandoned rabbit burrow near the twisted pine.
    Three hundred yards was close enough for lupus ears to hear every word spoken. It was not,