Ritual Magic

lupus, Lily reminded herself. If they both held on another thirty minutes. Even twenty. Shit, fifteen. Every minute helped.
    “Didn’t . . . freeze . . . this time,” Andy whispered. He smiled.
    That smile hurt all the way down. She touched his cheek. “You were fantastic. Cynna and I wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t acted.” She looked at Cullen and nodded. With a touch, Cullen had Andy asleep again.
    “How in the hell did you get your hands on an RPG?”
    “Interagency cooperation,” the Big A said.
    “It’s from ATF’s raid?”
    “Yeah. I’m sure the assholes would have cooperated like crazy if I’d asked.” He looked around. “This is one goddamn fucking mess, you know that? Rickie . . .” His jaw worked. Then his gaze sharpened. “Goddamn vultures.”
    Lily followed his gaze. The press had arrived.
    * * *
    “. . . B ROUGHT Cynna back here,” Lily told Ruben. As soon as the wounded were on their way, she’d called Ruben back. “Cullen checked her real quick before he left. He says she’ll probably wake up with a bad headache soon, but she’s okay. I’m going to head to the ER now. Ackleford’s willing to take the scene until Karonski gets here. Then he needs to go to the hospital where they’re working on his man.”
    “I’m afraid you’ll have to talk to the press first. People are likely to panic if they don’t hear something.”
    She grimaced. “Yes, sir.”
    “Keep it brief.”
    Brief was good. Maybe she’d get through it without falling apart. Can’t alarm the public by falling apart on camera. “Yes, sir.” She disconnected and started to rub her face, but noticed her hand was shaking. That didn’t make sense. She was sure she’d burned through every drop of adrenaline her body had pumped out.
    Why hadn’t Rule called her yet? It had been . . . she glanced at her watch. Seventeen minutes. Not that long. Obviously he was away from his phone for some reason. Hell, maybe he was in the shower. “Casey,” she said to the only one of the guards—other than Santos—who hadn’t been badly hurt, “do you have keys to the tankmobile?”
    “I’ve got a set, yeah.”
    “Okay. I’m going to talk to the press, and then we’re heading to the ER.” She took a couple of steps, stopped, and turned. Casey was right behind her, guarding her still. He was built chunky. Solid. His hair was mouse brown, his eyes a faded blue. She didn’t know him well, just enough to put a name to his face, plus a vague impression that he was on the quiet side. He could have died today. “Casey. You did well. All of you did extremely well today.”
    She wondered if it was anger that tightened his mouth—who was she, to tell him he’d done well? But it might have been grief. He’d cried earlier, about Steve. “José will be okay,” he told her, as if she’d been the one asking for reassurance. “You’ll see. He’s a fast healer.”
    Her phone chimed. It wasn’t Rule, but she answered automatically anyway. Maybe because she had no idea what to say to Casey. “Yes.”
    “Miss Yu?”
    “Who is this?”
    “Philippe. Have I called at a difficult time? My regrets, but this is urgent. I’ve left several messages for your mother, but I’m afraid she hasn’t returned my calls. It’s about the
feuilles de brick avec fruits de la passion
.”
    “The what?”
    He sniffed. “The pastry I make for you with the passion fruit. I am sorry to give you difficult news, but we are going to have to adjust the menu.” He launched into an account of perverse suppliers, the weather, and the impossibility of using any but a certain farm’s passion fruit.
    She interrupted. “You’re supposed to call Mr. Turner, not me.”
    “No, no, I have found it is much better to speak with the bride. What does the groom know, eh? Always I speak with the bride. It is her day. I must have
your
decision, Miss Yu, in order to proceed. Now, we will make a substitution. Let me explain what your options—”
    Rage bubbled up in Lily. Why could no one follow directions? Orders, even. They thought they knew best and ignored what you told them to do, and people
died
. “You want my decision.”
    “I have said so.” He was becoming testy. “Please listen. The options I offer you—”
    “Okay, I’ve decided. You’re fired.”
    She had to stab the phone twice to disconnect. That was when she noticed that her face was wet. She was crying? Oh, God, she was bawling, and she was supposed to talk