Blood Magic by Eileen Wilks

maybe it would be Western swing. That was another thing about lupus gatherings—there was always music and almost always dancing, but you never knew what kind. It depended on who showed up and what they wanted to play.
    Lily knew one of the men fiddling for them tonight. In his other life, he was first violinist at the San Diego Symphony—and no one he worked with knew he was lupus. Which was reason enough to track down Benedict. Nokolai might have gone public, but some of its members hadn’t. With the Species Citizenship Bill still bogged down in committee, some couldn’t afford to. It was legal to fire a lupus for being a lupus, and plenty of places would do just that.
    Benedict was at the north end of the field near the tubs of drinks, talking to a man she didn’t know. Lily raised her voice slightly. “Benedict.”
    He turned and waited, giving her a nod when she reached him. Benedict was in charge of Clanhome’s security. Now that the dance was over, he’d added some of his usual accessories to his cutoffs—a large sword sheathed on his back, a hol stered .357 at his hip, and an earbud. His phone was fastened to his belt opposite the .357.
    The combination of low-tech and high-tech weaponry, bare skin, and impressive musculature gave him the look of an animated gaming character, with a whiff of Secret Service from the earbud. She smiled. “No machine gun?”
    “No. I’m not expecting trouble.”
    He was serious. At least she thought he was—with Benedict it was hard to tell. “That dance was really something. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    He nodded, agreeing. Maybe pleased.
    “Does it mean—”
    “I won’t discuss my relationship with my brother with you.”
    Her eyebrows climbed. Good guess, even if he was wrong about the outcome. Sooner or later, they would discuss it. “I’ll table that for now. I have a security concern.”
    He didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. Yet everything about him sharpened. “Yes?”
    “I’ve seen an Asian man here I can’t account for. Not Paul—you’ve seen Paul Liu, my brother-in-law? This man is shorter than Paul and possibly older. I only got one glimpse, so I can’t give much of a description, but he was wearing a dark baseball cap and a pale T-shirt with short sleeves.”
    “I haven’t seen him or received a report of him, and my people are tracking all the ospi currently at Clanhome.”
    Lily blinked. Ospi meant out-clan friend or guest. “My sisters? You’re tracking my sisters?”
    He smiled slightly. “I keep track of any out-clan who enter Clanhome.”
    Had she been mistaken? Lily drummed her fingers on her thigh. No, she decided. “There aren’t any Asian Nokolai, are there?”
    “Two,” Benedict said promptly. “Half-Asian, of course. One has a Korean mother and lives with her in Los Angeles. He’s ten years old. The other is an adult whose mother was Japanese. John Ino is fifty-seven and lives in Seattle, and I doubt he’s here today. But it’s possible.”
    “Find out. I saw an Asian man in a baseball cap. He’s not a guest, and it sounds like he isn’t Nokolai.” Maybe he’d worn the cap for only a short time. Maybe he’d seen her looking for him and faded away from the crowd. Maybe he’d left altogether, in which case they were too late, but it was worth finding out. “This party would be one hell of an opportunity for paparazzi, and they make cameras really small these days.”
    Benedict considered her for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Whoever he is, this man didn’t come in either of the gates. It’s possible to enter elsewhere, but only on foot. Which means he’s left a scent trail.” He pulled out his phone and hit a number. “Saul. I need you. I’m by the soft drinks.”
    He put up the phone. “Saul’s got the best nose of any of my people. He’ll Change and you’ll show him where you saw the man. With so many trampling over the ground, he may not be able to pick up the scent there, but