lurching to her feet with Lily’s arm around her waist.
“He’s not dead.” Cynna’s face was dry but oddly slack, as if shock had cut the muscles.
“No, he isn’t. Look at his chest. Look at his eyes, Cynna. He closed them. Nettie did her thing and Cullen’s breathing.”
A shudder traveled through Cynna like a minor earthquake. Lily tightened her arm as the woman’s knees went soft, bracing her legs so they didn’t both tumble to the ground.
A second later Cynna stiffened, taking most of her weight again. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m good. Cullen—”
“Nettie’s got him. She isn’t letting him go.”
As if agreeing, Nettie spoke. “Helicopter.” Her head was upright, her eyes closed, the frizzy waves of her hair hanging down on either side of her face like half-drawn drapes. “Medevac.”
“Nettie—” Isen began.
“Now.” There was no give in her voice. Iron couldn’t be harder or more certain. “Stabbed in the heart. There’s poison. It’s interfering.”
“I sent for the Rhej,” Benedict said.
“Good.” With that, Nettie shut the rest of them out, beginning a low chant.
Poison? Lily twitched, wanting to check for herself. To see if the poison had a magical component, because there were precious damned few things that poisoned a lupus.
But Cynna was leaning on her, and she didn’t want to interfere with Nettie. Who was keeping Cullen alive.
Rule already had his phone out and was speaking into it. “. . . need a medevac helicopter at Nokolai Clanhome. Stabbing victim, a heart wound, and there’s some sort of poison involved.” A pause. “That’s not acceptable. We have a doctor on scene, and she says she needs a helicopter.”
Lily glanced around. “Here,” she said to one of the men still on his feet. Shannon was a freckled, redheaded guard who looked about twenty. He was probably twice that. “Keep her on her feet.”
Cynna scowled. “I don’t need to be passed around like—”
“Yes, you do.” Lily waited until Shannon slid an arm around Cynna, then hurried to Rule, who was speaking with controlled fury to the person at the other end. She held out her hand. “Let me.”
He broke off in midsentence and put his phone in her hand. His pupils had swollen, black overtaking color in his eyes but not swallowing the whites. Yet. The edges of that black quivered as he fought back the need to Change.
He wanted to hunt and catch and kill. She understood.
Lily took his hand so the mate bond could help him hold on to his control and spoke into the phone. “This is FBI Special Unit Agent Lily Yu. I need a medevac helicopter at this location. Immediately.”
The 911 operator told her all the copters were out on other calls, but she’d send an ambulance. Lily had to let go of Rule’s hand to retrieve her own phone from her pocket . . . not the pocket that held Cullen’s present.
And she was not going to think about that. “I need a copter. You can divert one of yours, or you can call the Navy.” Naval Base San Diego was the largest in the country. They kept fully equipped medevac copters standing by. “Priority authorization for that—be quiet . This is an order, not a request. Call this number”—she read it off her own phone’s directory—“with authorization code Elder, Elder, M as in Mary, S as in Susan, six-one-one-five. Got that?” She listened. “Right. I’ll stand by while you confirm.”
While the operator made the call, Lily took in the scene.
Nettie chanted. Her expression was serene, but beneath the natural coppery pigment of her skin she looked strained. How long could she keep pouring energy into Cullen? He was pale. Shock? Could a lupus go into shock? She didn’t see any blood, not a mark on him anywhere.
Stabbed from behind, then. No sign of the weapon. Did the perp still have it, whoever he was?
An assumption there, but the odds favored a male assailant. It took strength and a great deal of skill to hit the heart with a single
“He’s not dead.” Cynna’s face was dry but oddly slack, as if shock had cut the muscles.
“No, he isn’t. Look at his chest. Look at his eyes, Cynna. He closed them. Nettie did her thing and Cullen’s breathing.”
A shudder traveled through Cynna like a minor earthquake. Lily tightened her arm as the woman’s knees went soft, bracing her legs so they didn’t both tumble to the ground.
A second later Cynna stiffened, taking most of her weight again. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m good. Cullen—”
“Nettie’s got him. She isn’t letting him go.”
As if agreeing, Nettie spoke. “Helicopter.” Her head was upright, her eyes closed, the frizzy waves of her hair hanging down on either side of her face like half-drawn drapes. “Medevac.”
“Nettie—” Isen began.
“Now.” There was no give in her voice. Iron couldn’t be harder or more certain. “Stabbed in the heart. There’s poison. It’s interfering.”
“I sent for the Rhej,” Benedict said.
“Good.” With that, Nettie shut the rest of them out, beginning a low chant.
Poison? Lily twitched, wanting to check for herself. To see if the poison had a magical component, because there were precious damned few things that poisoned a lupus.
But Cynna was leaning on her, and she didn’t want to interfere with Nettie. Who was keeping Cullen alive.
Rule already had his phone out and was speaking into it. “. . . need a medevac helicopter at Nokolai Clanhome. Stabbing victim, a heart wound, and there’s some sort of poison involved.” A pause. “That’s not acceptable. We have a doctor on scene, and she says she needs a helicopter.”
Lily glanced around. “Here,” she said to one of the men still on his feet. Shannon was a freckled, redheaded guard who looked about twenty. He was probably twice that. “Keep her on her feet.”
Cynna scowled. “I don’t need to be passed around like—”
“Yes, you do.” Lily waited until Shannon slid an arm around Cynna, then hurried to Rule, who was speaking with controlled fury to the person at the other end. She held out her hand. “Let me.”
He broke off in midsentence and put his phone in her hand. His pupils had swollen, black overtaking color in his eyes but not swallowing the whites. Yet. The edges of that black quivered as he fought back the need to Change.
He wanted to hunt and catch and kill. She understood.
Lily took his hand so the mate bond could help him hold on to his control and spoke into the phone. “This is FBI Special Unit Agent Lily Yu. I need a medevac helicopter at this location. Immediately.”
The 911 operator told her all the copters were out on other calls, but she’d send an ambulance. Lily had to let go of Rule’s hand to retrieve her own phone from her pocket . . . not the pocket that held Cullen’s present.
And she was not going to think about that. “I need a copter. You can divert one of yours, or you can call the Navy.” Naval Base San Diego was the largest in the country. They kept fully equipped medevac copters standing by. “Priority authorization for that—be quiet . This is an order, not a request. Call this number”—she read it off her own phone’s directory—“with authorization code Elder, Elder, M as in Mary, S as in Susan, six-one-one-five. Got that?” She listened. “Right. I’ll stand by while you confirm.”
While the operator made the call, Lily took in the scene.
Nettie chanted. Her expression was serene, but beneath the natural coppery pigment of her skin she looked strained. How long could she keep pouring energy into Cullen? He was pale. Shock? Could a lupus go into shock? She didn’t see any blood, not a mark on him anywhere.
Stabbed from behind, then. No sign of the weapon. Did the perp still have it, whoever he was?
An assumption there, but the odds favored a male assailant. It took strength and a great deal of skill to hit the heart with a single
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