Death Magic - By Eileen Wilks Page 0,54

you know I’ve got a medical appointment today. Second—”

“What the hell?” His eyebrows snapped down. “I was told you were good to go.”

“I am. There’s some lingering weakness in my right arm, but otherwise I’m fit. But I was moved from light duty to active without a doctor signing off on it.” Let him assume her appointment was for dotting those bureaucratic i’s.

He waved that aside. “Don’t bother with your second thing. I’ve already heard it from Doug.” His smile was slow and sour. “The two of you are stuck with each other.”

She glanced at Mullins, who scowled. “No, the other thing is that I want to dig into the death magic angle.”

“How?”

“Homeless shelters. Missing persons reports. At least one person and possibly more were killed to charge that dagger. There’s a good chance that wasn’t the first time our perps killed, either. They probably had to practice.”

His eyes narrowed. He gave a brief nod. “Good enough. You’ll give your assignment priority, though. If you—” His brows snapped down. “What is it?”

Her heart was pounding, but unlike Rule, he wouldn’t be able to hear that. Maybe her eyes had widened for a split second before it vanished. “What do you mean?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She had. It had hovered in the air between Drummond and Mullins for a second, a pale blur in the air . . . one hand outstretched, just as at the shooting range. A wedding ring on one finger.

No way in hell was she telling Drummond and Mullins about it. “I’m fine.” She turned to Mullins. “Let’s go.”

FOURTEEN

THE wolf wanted more time to sniff at the base of that oak, to trot along leafy paths flavored with scents of deer and raccoon. He wanted to chase his clanmate through the trees, romp with him in a tumble of nips and pounces on that wide, grassy lawn. But the man was needed now. He allowed himself one gusty sigh, then reached for the song.

Moonlight flooded him, blinded him, ruptured his heart and flung him into the abyss where leaf-crunch and fire-crackle melded with inky black, a silent tsunami of song and pain rending him, rendering him . . .

Whole. Reformed, two-footed, his breathing unruffled, Rule lingered in the fringe of trees long enough to pull on the jean shorts he’d carried in his mouth.

He’d been right. Ruben and Deborah’s land welcomed the Change. He strode out of the lovely little scrap of forest into their backyard.

Deborah stood near one of the rear flower beds, a dirty trowel in one hand. She wore a faded blue sweatshirt and jeans. She was staring at him.

“I hope I didn’t startle you,” he said as he drew near. “I’m afraid I’m a trifle underdressed, but it’s difficult to carry much in the way of clothing when I’m four-footed.”

She had an odd, stunned expression on her face. “What did you do? I . . . felt it. Something moved through the earth. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“The Change calls earth to dance with moonsong. I imagine it would feel peculiar to one touching Earth at the time.”

“Peculiar. Yes.” She smiled suddenly. “And incredibly lovely. I was encouraging my rhododendron, you see. You’re here to see Ruben?”

“I am, yes.”

“I’ll take you to him. “

“I don’t like to interrupt you.”

“I’ll take you to him,” she repeated, and started for the house. Rule perforce walked with her. “You didn’t want to be seen coming to the house. That’s why you came through the woods in, ah, your other form.”

“It seemed best.”

Silence fell. He didn’t try to fill it, sensing something was brewing in her. Halfway across the yard, it boiled over into words. “I hate this. I hate it.”

Her voice, low but throbbing with emotion, told him to step carefully. “This?”

“This, them . . . the people who tried to kill him. The way we’re living now, with guards lurking around. Ruben almost died, but he didn’t, so now they’re trying to strip him of everything else—honor, freedom, his reputation, his work. He didn’t even want me to work outside today. He wishes I weren’t here at all, but he especially wishes I wouldn’t go into our own yard. He wants me to hide. Did you know that?” It was demand as much as question. “He wants me to go into hiding.”

Rule knew. He’d suggested it to Ruben last week . . . but it had already occurred to Ruben that their enemies might try to grab Deborah, to use her against

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