Mind Magic (35 page)

Was Ellison Smith’s partner or his stooge? Because Smith was behind the killings. There was no doubt in Rule’s mind about that, given the method and the careful way they’d made sure everyone blamed wolves for the deaths. It certainly hadn’t been any of Rule’s people. He hadn’t told Danny this, but two of the victims were women. He might not be sure how much control some of his Leidolf had, but none of them were insane. Only genuine madness could bring a lupus to kill a woman.

Rule leaped over a fallen tree and thought about those victims. Smith had ordered three innocents killed. He was coming after Rule in a remarkably ruthless way, and using the biggest guns he had to do it. At least Rule hoped like hell these were his biggest guns. Why?

Smith must consider him a threat, however little he felt like one right now. In spite of all he’d learned from Danny, he still didn’t know what Smith wanted. What did he expect to do with the Lodan drug that was worth risking so much? Did he covet fame and glory? What was his ultimate goal, and how did Rule stand in his way?

He swerved around a brushy thicket, slowing as he saw the tiny creek ahead. He thought this was the spot . . . yes, the scent was unmistakably lupus. In this form he couldn’t identify it as Claude’s urine, but he didn’t need to. He turned and followed the little creek up the hill.

Maybe Smith wasn’t desperately trying to kill
him.
Maybe his real target was the girl riding on Mike’s back.

That thought clicked into place like a puzzle piece finding the spot it had been made for. It raised other questions, however. How could Smith know Danny was with Rule? And why was he suddenly desperate to get rid of her? She’d been hiding from him for nearly a year. Was this the first chance he’d had to eliminate her, or had something changed?

He couldn’t answer the last question, but clearly Smith had known Danny was in the area. The HSI agents had said so when they showed Lily Danny’s photograph. If Smith knew about Danny’s romantic fascination with Rule . . . and he might. Danny lacked the filters most people possessed, so she might have talked to Smith about Rule back when she still trusted him. It wasn’t a huge leap for the man to suspect that Danny might try to find Rule when news reports suggested he was in the area.

But Smith had killed three innocent people and might be planning to kill a great many more—assuming Smith considered lupi to be people. Some didn’t. Doing that based on mere suspicion
was
a leap. Rule filed that theory under “possible” and turned to the next question: why now?

Smith had kept his operation deeply hidden for years. Now he was moving almost openly. Kidnapping an FBI agent. Framing the head of Unit 12. Framing Rule. Killing innocents. And now, all but declaring war on Rule and his people—possibly in order to kill Danny. He could see only one reason for the change.

Whatever Smith’s goal might be, it came with an expiration date. And that date was soon. Probably very soon.

By the time Rule drew near enough to the rendezvous to smell clan nearby, he’d gotten his wish. He knew what he needed to do next. He slowed, then stopped, looking for the sentry. There, in the elm. The man gave a low whistle, notifying the others.

Reno and Eric stopped alongside him. Mike was slightly behind. “You doing okay, Danny?” he called.

“Are we there? I hope we’re there.”

“We are.” Close enough anyway. Just ahead, the path bent around a rocky outcropping. Two men came around that outcrop. One was normal-sized. The other was not.

“Rule!” Little John called out cheerfully. “’Bout time you showed up!”

Rule was surprised to see Little John, who’d been given his nickname for obvious reasons: he looked like Robin Hood’s oversize sidekick. Unlike some big men, he could move fast when he wanted to, but he very seldom wanted to. Not to put too fine a point on it, Little John was lazy.

The man with him was Jason, who was next in rank after José and Mike. Jason looked like a model for a U.S. Army ad. He slapped Little John on the side of the head. “I report to the Rho first—
then
you can run your mouth.” He gave Rule a quick wink. “José bet him he couldn’t deliver your guest here before you arrived.”

That was one way to get Little John to move quickly. The man might be lazy, but he hated to lose a bet. Rule grinned. “Congratulations, Little John. Jason, how many are here, and where is my guest?”

“Six, and he is—”

“Here,” said another voice, and a third man came around the rocky outcropping.

He was slim, blond, and dapper in pressed khakis and a green polo shirt. He held a bulging Priority Mailer in one hand. His loafers looked comfortable, but they weren’t a great choice for running through the woods. Good thing he hadn’t had to run, then. Rule was sorry he’d missed seeing Little John carrying him.

Danny slid off Mike’s back. “Thank you,” she told him politely. “I hope I never have to do that again.”

The blond man chuckled. “It looks like you had as interesting a trip as I did.”

“As a favor to me,” Rule said, “please don’t remember the young woman you just spoke to.”

“What young woman?” was the bland return.

Rule nodded his thanks. “There’s a strong south wind today.”

“South winds favor haste.”

“So do I. I’m Rule Turner.”

“Yes, you are. Call me Bert.” The man smiled. “Are you ready to take delivery?”

“I am.” As Bert came forward, more of Rule’s men moved around the rock. The official meeting point might be slightly farther on, but lupi would naturally gather where their Rho stood.

Up close, Bert smelled faintly of gun oil. Rule wondered where the weapon was. An ankle holster perhaps. There was just a whiff of fear, but overall he was very calm for a man surrounded by lupi. He held out the mailer. “The cash.”

Rule accepted it.

He then offered Rule a wallet. “Cards. You’ll want to count the cash, of course. To check the amounts on the cards we’ll have to—”

“We’ll skip that this time,” Rule said dryly. “Bert, are you familiar with this area and able to escape through the woods without being spotted?”

“Not at all. Especially since I have no idea where I am now. I take it there’s a problem.”

“One that will probably involve large numbers of law enforcement officers. With your permission, I’ll get you away from here as quickly as possible.”

“I accept your offer.”

“Excellent. I regret that I can’t offer any refreshment, unless you’re fond of jerky—” Rule stopped when John cleared his throat. “Yes?”

“I’ve got a little alcohol stove. I could make coffee, if you like. I have to do it one cup at a time, but I’ve got what I need for that.”

“Ah.” Alcohol burned clean—no smoke to give them away. He turned to his guest. “You’ll have a ways to go, whether you walk or ride the way you did to get here. Would you like a cup of coffee before you leave?”

Bert’s sigh was heartfelt. “I surely would.”

There was also a bottle of water for Danny, who was reunited with her computer. The rest of them could refresh themselves with water from the creek—not sanitary for humans, but fine for them—and jerky. By the time Rule had drunk his fill, five more clan had joined them, bearing backpacks with clothes and a couple sleeping bags. The others wouldn’t be here for another ten minutes or more. They were carrying more supplies.

Rule led everyone on around the rocky outcropping. A small clearing there gave them more room. John set up his tiny alcohol stove and started making coffee. Bert stood near him, chatting easily. Rule had a quick word with Jason and gave him a large part of the cash in the Priority Mailer. The rest went in the wallet Bert had thoughtfully provided. Then it was time to talk with Danny again.

She sat on a fallen log. Mike sat cross-legged in front of her. He was explaining the way the sentries had been placed. She seemed to be listening, though it was hard to be sure when she directed her intent gaze at the ground, not him.

“How are you holding up?” Rule asked, joining her on the log.

“I’m not hungry or sleepy. I don’t hurt anywhere. I’m not panicked or having a meltdown. So I guess I’m holding up okay, but I’m not—I don’t—” She stopped, drooping. “I don’t know what I am.”

“I thought it would help to know what’s going on.”

She perked up a bit. “It would. I can see why you abandoned the camp, but why did we come here? Why didn’t we just keep going? Not that I want to keep going, but why aren’t we? I asked Mike,” she added, “but he just said, ‘If the Rho says go there, we go there.’” She frowned in disapproval. “He doesn’t have much curiosity, does he? Though he seems smart enough otherwise.”

Rule smothered a laugh and avoided looking at Mike. “He didn’t want to speculate out loud on my reasons, though I imagine some of them were obvious to him. We came here because we needed to go someplace we could reach quickly. Other spots would have worked, but this one had a marked route. We’re waiting now for the rest to join us—except for those keeping watch, that is.”

“Who’s keeping watch where? You told José something about that, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’d been keeping two squads out at all times, searching for any trace of Lily or the brownie—”

“What brownie?”

Had he not mentioned that to her? “I’ll explain later. The men from those squads, along with the camp’s sentries, have been redeployed to watch the roads into the wilderness area. We should have word when the authorities send in their posse.”

“They can’t watch the entire perimeter.”

“They don’t have to. A couple of men could easily slip in, but the authorities aren’t going to send a couple of men after us. They’ll assemble a large group of heavily armed officers—no less than forty, I’d think, and possibly more. Unless they decide to wait long enough to bring in the National Guard.” It had been many years since the authorities had gone hunting his people en masse, but he knew the stories. He knew what kind of tactics the government had used—everything from state troopers to the massive deployment of the National Guard that had resulted in the infamous Bridgetown massacre.

He wished he knew what was being said in the media and online. José had said that people “were pretty worked up” about the killings. How much of a frenzy had Smith been able to whip up?

Danny’s eyes were wide. “The National Guard?”

“That’s unlikely to happen right away. Our enemy has great leverage at the federal level, but he’ll need the governor on board to call out the Guard.”

“My friend Jamie says the governor is an idiot, so he might go along with that. And Mr. Smith had soldiers at the Refuge. If he gets the U.S. Army to come after us—”

“I suspect they only looked like Army, Danny. Even if Smith does have a general in his pocket, deploying soldiers to guard the Refuge would leave one hell of a trail. They were probably mercenaries of some sort. My first concern now is that we not linger. If our enemies are smart, they’ll encircle us. We need to be gone before they can.”

“You’re going to disperse us?” Mike said.

No point in waiting to announce it, he decided. “The nonfighters will be heading back to Clanhome.”

Danny’s forehead wrinkled. “Don’t all lupi fight?”

A couple of them chuckled. “Certainly,” Rule said. “Especially if no dominant is around to knock some sense into them. But not all are trained. I’ll keep the trained fighters with me, or nearby. But not here. I’ve got one major resource our enemy lacks and she’s wasted out here, where she doesn’t have quick and easy access to the Internet.”

“Me.” Danny sounded pleased.

“You,” he agreed. “And for the rest of us . . . it’s time I stopped playing by human rules.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I know who my enemy is. It’s time I—” He broke off to listen.

A whistle sounded from the elm that held a sentry—two short notes, followed by a rising crescendo. Two notes meant clan approaching. The crescendo warned of possible danger. Rule jogged back around the rocky outcrop; Jason shadowed him. He stopped beneath the elm and spoke softly. “Who?”

“José and the rest. I don’t see any pursuit, but they’re running flat out and I don’t see packs on their backs.”

Something was wrong. Rule spoke crisply. “Jason, start distributing the money. Be quick. John, put out your fire. Everyone else except the sentries, to me. We’ll wait for José and the rest, but be prepared to scatter. Danny, I’d like another twenty-four hours.”

She’d rounded the outcrop with the others, but stopped dead at that. “What? What do you mean?”

“I’d like to extend our agreement about your protection for another twenty-four hours.”

She was pale. Frightened, but not—as she put it—having a meltdown. “I—I—okay.” She came forward and held out her hand.

Solemnly he shook it. “We’ll take care of you, Danny.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know yet.” He would soon. He could hear José and the rest now. They weren’t trying to run silently. “Mike, Danny remains in your charge. Bert, I’m sorry there won’t be time for coffee. We need to get you away.” Claude would be best for that. He knew the area, knew how to fight—and just as important, when not to fight—and was damn good at traveling unseen. Rule knew that because the man had once led a Leidolf squad onto Nokolai Clanhome land and lived to tell of it.

José came pounding up the trail toward Rule, a long tail of winded men behind him. All of them were shiny with sweat. José started talking before he stopped running. “Got a call on the way here. Checked with . . . others. Summarizing. They’ve spotted . . . our watchers.”

“All of them?” Rule asked sharply.

“I think so. Two”—he stopped in front of Rule—“may have been picked up. Or shot. Mark heard shots fired to the south of him, and that’s one of the pairs not answering their phones. Another pair had state cops show up while I was talking to them—half a dozen, armed with rifles. I told them to pull back. I dumped the supplies and got here stat. Figured we could go back for them if needed.”

“You did right.” Rule scowled, thinking. Someone among his enemies was too smart for comfort. He must have guessed that Rule would send people to watch the roads. Dammit to hell. “Text the other watchers. Everyone is to leave their posts and join us here. Jason’s distributing cash—a thousand each. We’ll be splitting up. Mike, Danny, José, and Jason will stay with me. Nonfighters are to return to Clanhome. Jason—” Danny had reached him and was tugging on Rule’s arm. “A moment, Danny. Jason, when you’ve finished passing out the money, you’re in charge of getting Theo back safely to Clanhome. I want Claude—”