“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
“Can you take the spell off? Make it go away?”
“No, I’m not a practitioner. We’ll get someone who is, though. Someone who knows a lot more than me.” Lily tried to smile reassuringly. She was sure it was a sad and sick failure. “Rule—”
“I’ll call Cullen.” He tried easing one arm away from Julia. She clutched at him. “I’m right here,” he said soothingly. “I’ve got you. I need to call a friend of mine. He’s very good with magic.”
Cullen Seaborne was one of a kind, the only Gifted lupus in the world. His Gift was one of the rarest, too. He was a sorcerer, able to see magic much as Lily was able to touch it. He’d have some idea what to do.
Lily sure didn’t. She drew a shaky breath. What now? If this had been anyone else, a stranger, what would she be doing right now?
“Lily,” Grandmother said. “You will now tell us what you found.”
All right. Yes, that was one thing she could do. But first . . . “In just a moment. Rule, I need to give your people some directions.”
He had his phone to his ear. He nodded.
“Scott, I need the restaurant exits shut down. No one is to leave. Julia, you’d probably like to sit down. You’ve had a shock. Grandmother, maybe you could take her to—”
“What did you find? What’s wrong with Julia?” That was her father, who had waited all he could. Scott had moved away as soon as Lily gave him his instructions, leaving defense of the hall to Mark, who also didn’t budge when Edward Yu shoved him. Her father’s hands clenched into fists. “Move.”
“Father, I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but I know this is a Unit matter. I need to talk to Uncle Chen. Will you bring him here?”
His mouth tightened. He cast his wife one long look, then nodded and turned, pushing his way through the crowd gathering at the hall’s entrance. It wasn’t just relatives now—several customers had decided they needed to see what was going on.
“Everyone else—you will go back to your tables. Now.” She whipped the last word out. Several people did back away. None of her family budged. “Mark, keep this hallway clear. Anyone who doesn’t go sit down—” Quickly she amended what she’d been about to say. “Anyone other than Grandmother who doesn’t go sit down will be taken politely but firmly to their table.”
“Don’t be absurd.” That was Paul, her brother-in-law. “You can’t intend for him to lay hands on any of us.”
“This is a crime scene. I mean exactly what I said. I need you to go get Susan.” Lily’s older sister was a dermatologist, so this was way outside her field, but she could at least make sure their mother didn’t go into shock or something.
Being given an assignment tempered Paul’s indignation. He frowned to let her know he did not appreciate her attitude, but he left to get Susan.
“Cullen’s on his way,” Rule said.
Thank God. Though it would take him awhile to get here. He was at Nokolai Clanhome, well outside San Diego. “Grandmother, can you take Moth—Julia—into the ladies’ room so she can sit down?” There were a couple of chairs in there.
“Who are all these people?” Julia said plaintively. “I thought I was here with my family, but I don’t see them. Is my mother here? You need to call her. Mrs. Franklin Lin. She’ll be worried. You’d better call her right away.”
Lily met Grandmother’s eyes. Her mother’s mother had died forty-five years ago . . . two months after Julia’s twelfth birthday.
Grandmother stepped forward. “You will allow me to worry about that. I am Madame Yu. I am not your grandmother, but you may call me that, if you wish. Come.” She slid an arm around Julia’s waist, gently but inexorably detaching her from Rule. She was a full head shorter than the younger woman. “You will sit down now. Someone will bring you a glass of water.”
“Can I have a Coke?” Julia asked as she was steered into the ladies’ room.
“A glass of Coca-Cola, then. We will not worry about caffeine tonight.”
The ladies’ room door closed behind them.
TWO
THE local cops arrived first—two patrol units that Lily put to work right away, herding the abundance of potential witnesses into separate groups. Her own people got there soon after. Ackleford came himself and brought three agents with him. The crime scene team, he said, was on the way.
Derwin Ackleford, aka the Big A, was the special agent in charge of the local office. His nickname did not refer to his size; he was five foot seven with an average build. Nor did it refer to his last name. Lily was convinced Ackleford had some sort of personality disorder. He was rude, crude, and hard to work with, and he always stank
