expansion. I’m introducing him to someone who might be interested.”
“Nokolai isn’t?” Rule’s birth-clan was richer than Leidolf. A lot richer.
“Nokolai is not investing at the moment. Isen wants us to have greater fluidity.”
“He wants more cash on hand.”
“Quite a bit more. We’ll be liquidating some assets. Financially it’s not the best time for that, but tactically it’s necessary.”
War was expensive. “And your other meeting? Something secret you can’t tell me about?”
He met her eyes steadily. “Not today.”
Rule hadn’t brought up the Shadow Unit once since Saturday night. Not in words, not with a strained silence or other indirection. That whole meeting with Ruben was beginning to take on the aspect of a dream. How could it have been real, yet Rule was busy arranging financing for a clansman as if the future held room for a business expansion?
Her lips thinned. She’d forfeited certain rights, hadn’t she? When she refused to join the Shadow Unit, she’d given up the right to ask about it. “Who are you having lunch with, then?”
“Dennis Parrott wants to discuss the Species Citizenship Bill in more depth.”
“Wants ammo for his boss, you mean. Or hopes to find out more about your strategy.”
“I’m singularly lacking in strategy on that front at the moment, so there’s a good chance I’ll learn more than he will. My official slot with him is eleven, but I intend to invite him to lunch. Lily.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t realize you were expecting to be able to force the mantle to go where you willed.”
“I didn’t exactly expect that, but . . .” She huffed a quick, impatient breath. “Eighty-nine Wythe lupi and the mantle never stirred, never gave a hint it wanted to go to one of them. But it has to. If your Lady won’t or can’t take the opportunity we gave her, it must be up to me. How do Rhos make a mantle do what they want?”
“Rather the way you make your fingers flex or grasp or release.”
She drummed those fingers on the table. “A baby doesn’t arrive knowing how to use its hands. Maybe I need to—to practice or something.” But she didn’t really possess the mantle. It hung inside her, impervious to her thoughts and will. She didn’t feel it the way Rule felt the mantles he carried. Lily tilted her head to look up at him. “You could do it, right? If you wanted to, you could put the Leidolf mantle in someone from Leidolf.”
“If he carried the founder’s blood, yes. Apparently that’s the problem with Wythe. Their founder’s bloodline has grown thin.”
“But it has to go to one of them.” They knew that one Wythe clan member held plenty of the founder’s blood—Brian’s son. Lily had met him yesterday. He was three years old.
But there were six adult lupi descended from the previous Rho’s great-grandfather, dammit. They had the bloodline—a bit diluted, yeah, but the mantle shouldn’t be so damn picky. Aside from the sheer annoyance of the furry tickle in her gut, Wythe needed a Rho. Preserving the mantle might have kept the clan from an explosive death, but it didn’t give them a leader.
Rule squeezed her shoulder and moved away, aiming for the coffeepot. “We’ll begin looking outside Wythe.”
“Lost ones?” she said dubiously. The potential for Change was carried as a recessive in clan daughters and their children. If two people with that recessive got together, they sometimes made a little lupus baby without either of them knowing it was possible. The clans kept records, though. Pretty good records. They kept track of their daughters’ descendents. “That’s a long shot.”
“It would be, yes, but I was speaking of children born to a lupus of another clan whose mother is Wythe or descended from Wythe. We don’t keep records of such pairings, so it may take a while.”
“I can wait.” She didn’t have much choice. “I’m just hoping not to have to wait for little Charlie to grow up.”
“If the Lady intends the mantle to go to a Wythe clan member anytime soon, then someone exists who can accept it. If so, we’ll find him. I hope to have all such potential heirs located in time for the All-Clan.” He filled his mug. “Ready for a refill?”
She sighed and pushed her chair back and stood. “I’d better grab a shower and get going. I may not be doing anything much at Headquarters, but I have to show up on . . .”