Ritual Magic

you all right?”
    “Who’s he?” Julia said, her voice wobbly. “He’s not your husband, is he? He looks too old.”
    Lily almost lost it. She swallowed and blinked like crazy and prayed her voice wouldn’t break. “Father. Give me a minute. Please. If magic’s involved—”
    “Magic!” Julia cried.
    Edward Yu didn’t answer, but he shoved at Scott. Who didn’t budge, of course. Neither of them was a large man, but Scott was lupus.
    “Edward.” The cousins parted to allow a small, awesomely erect old woman to come forward. Her black hair was skinned back from her face and fastened in an intricate bun. She wore crimson satin, lavishly embroidered. Grandmother murmured something in Chinese that Lily didn’t catch and laid a hand on her son’s arm, adding in that language, “Something bad has happened. Julia does not know you. We will stay back so we do not overwhelm her.”
    Edward Yu frowned hard. His eyes were frantic. “Not long. I won’t wait long.”
    Lily turned back to the woman who didn’t know she was a mother. Who thought she was twelve years old. “I’m with Unit Twelve, Julia. Have you heard of that? We investigate crimes connected with magic.”
    “Someone put a spell on me, didn’t they? That’s what’s wrong!”
    “It’s one possibility. I can find out if you’ll shake my hand.”
    Julia’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
    “I’m a touch sensitive. If magic has been used on you—a spell of some kind—I’ll feel it when we touch.” Her mother was null, with not a whisper of a Gift. Any trace of magic Lily found would have been put there by someone else.
    Julia cast a worried glance at Rule. He nodded reassuringly. “I guess that’s okay,” she said and held out her hand. It was shaking.
    Lily took it in both of hers.
    Julia Yu used to play the piano. She had the hands for it, long-fingered and graceful. Her manicure was immaculate, the polish a pale pink. The hand Lily held was covered in soft, well-tended skin and a hint of . . . something.
    The sensation was so faint Lily wasn’t sure she really felt it. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out every other sense, concentrating on her hands . . . yes. It was like the difference between air that’s completely still and the merest puff of a breath, but it was there.
    “You found magic.” Julia’s voice was high and quick. “You did. I can see it on your face.”
    “I found something,” Lily agreed, opening her eyes. Something that bothered her, but she didn’t know why, when she’d barely been able to discern that anything was present at all. Maybe her unease had nothing to do with her Gift and everything to do with whose hand she held. “I don’t know what. It’s very faint. Would you mind if I touched your face?”
    “My face? I—I guess not.”
    Julia Yu was five inches taller than her second daughter. Lily reached up and laid her palm flat on her mother’s cheek.
    The skin was soft there, too. Pampered. Had she touched her mother’s face at all since she was little? She couldn’t remember. Julia was staring at her with such hope, as if Lily could fix things with her touch. Lily’s eyes stung, so she closed them. Her hand. She had to focus on her hand.
    Not as faint here. Still a barely there sensation, but a bit more present, just as she’d hoped. A spell that tampered with identity or memory should be more concentrated on the head. Only she still didn’t know what she was touching. Magic always had a feel to it—slick or rough, intricate or smooth, oily or dry or whatever. This wasn’t tactile. More like being in a dark room where you couldn’t see a thing, but you knew someone was there. You didn’t hear anyone or smell anything. Maybe you sensed the air move or the heat of their body, but you weren’t aware of that. You just knew someone was there.
    Lily opened her eyes and drew her hand back. Her right hand. Not the one with Rule’s diamond. The one with the ring she’d had made to hold the
toltoi
, the charm the clan had given her when she’d become officially Nokolai. The Lady’s token, they called it. “I think . . .” God, she could not cry. Not now. She had to be a cop, not a daughter, right now. She made her voice firm. That was what people needed from a cop—firmness, authority, even when said cop was clueless and wanted badly to curl up in a ball. “I did find something.”
    “Can you take the spell off? Make it go away?”
    “No, I’m not a