"Swing it! Swing it! But not at Lily Yu. Lily Yu, stay back so she—"
"Put that damned thing away." That was Cullen, irritated, talking to the swordswoman.
"—doesn't cut you in half!" Gan yelled.
"Calm down, Gan." Lily said.
"Welcome to America, sir." The guy in the suit.
"Hold your fire, Mr. Timms." Brooks.
" Kethe mi notasi ." Bald dude with shiny skin.
Reluctantly, the tusked woman sheathed her blade. She added a few words that might have been a curse or a prayer or a request for directions to the ladies room.
"I am sitting down now," Cynna announced. And did.
"So while the guy from the Commerce Department was making nice with the councilor guy, Lily held the ring and I did a scan on it," Cynna finished. "The dominant pattern was new to me. Daniel Weaver's, I guess. But my mom's was there, too."
The sun was down, the smell of tomato and peppers hung in the air, and the twenty pounds of cat in Cynna's lap was purring. Rule stood at the counter, tearing lettuce as he listened. Lily stood beside him, cutting tomatoes into meticulously correct slices. She'd done most of the briefing; she was good at it.
Cynna, barred from helping by kitchen ineptitude, sat at their big, round table petting Dirty Harry and trying not to drool over the enchiladas baking in the oven. Trying not to think, too. Thinking hadn't brought any answers. It just put twitchy little wires in her veins, making it hard to sit still.
"Told you so," Gan said. "Are there more little fishies?"
Lily told her to look in the pantry, and Gan hopped down from her chair in search of "little fishies." Apparently sardines were one of the few dead things she liked.
Dirty Harry flexed a front paw, letting his claws prick Cynna's new slacks. She took the hint and resumed petting him. "He's not bothered by Gan at all."
"He?" Lily paused, her knife hovering over a tomato. "Oh, you mean Harry. He does seem pretty clear that she isn't a demon."
Cats hated demons. Harry had proved that his demon radar worked exceptionally well, but he was ignoring Gan. That pretty much proved Gan wasn't a demon anymore, to Cynna's way of thinking. She gave Harry a good rub behind the ears, and he rewarded her by turning up his engine.
"You're sure about the pattern, then." Lily said that in a way that left it hovering between statement and question. "It must have been faint. The ring didn't belong to your mother, and she's been gone a long time, hasn't she?"
"Dead" was the word Lily wasn't using. People sidestepped that word the way they'd step around a pile of dog shit on the sidewalk. Her father was gone. Her mother was dead. Big difference. "She died twenty years ago, so yeah, the pattern was old and very faint. And it was my mother's."
"You can pick up a twenty-year-old pattern from an object that didn't even belong to her?"
"Wedding rings are different. They carry a charge from—"
Gan's piping voice interrupted her. "What's this?" She'd emerged from the pantry with a bag of Goldfish. "It has fishies on it."
"Those are crackers," Lily said. "Cynna, if these people are truly sophisticated spellcasters, is it possible—"
Gan stuffed a handful of the little crackers in her mouth. And immediately spat them out. "Yuck, yuck, yuck! That's not food!"
"Some nutritionists would agree with you," Lily said dryly. "That doesn't make it okay to spit it out on the floor. Get some paper towels and clean it up."
"Don't want to." Gan turned to go back into the pantry.
Rule ripped off a handful of paper towels and walked over to the little not-quite-demon. He grabbed Gan's shoulder. "You made a mess. Clean it up."
Gan glared up at him. "Ow! That hurts!"
"It can hurt more."
"I liked you better when you were a wolf. And I didn't like you at all then." But she took the paper towels.
Lily watched, frowning. "She doesn't challenge you as much as she used to."
"She probably doesn't heal as fast as she used to," Cynna said dryly. Then she noticed the way Rule had stopped moving to
"Put that damned thing away." That was Cullen, irritated, talking to the swordswoman.
"—doesn't cut you in half!" Gan yelled.
"Calm down, Gan." Lily said.
"Welcome to America, sir." The guy in the suit.
"Hold your fire, Mr. Timms." Brooks.
" Kethe mi notasi ." Bald dude with shiny skin.
Reluctantly, the tusked woman sheathed her blade. She added a few words that might have been a curse or a prayer or a request for directions to the ladies room.
"I am sitting down now," Cynna announced. And did.
"So while the guy from the Commerce Department was making nice with the councilor guy, Lily held the ring and I did a scan on it," Cynna finished. "The dominant pattern was new to me. Daniel Weaver's, I guess. But my mom's was there, too."
The sun was down, the smell of tomato and peppers hung in the air, and the twenty pounds of cat in Cynna's lap was purring. Rule stood at the counter, tearing lettuce as he listened. Lily stood beside him, cutting tomatoes into meticulously correct slices. She'd done most of the briefing; she was good at it.
Cynna, barred from helping by kitchen ineptitude, sat at their big, round table petting Dirty Harry and trying not to drool over the enchiladas baking in the oven. Trying not to think, too. Thinking hadn't brought any answers. It just put twitchy little wires in her veins, making it hard to sit still.
"Told you so," Gan said. "Are there more little fishies?"
Lily told her to look in the pantry, and Gan hopped down from her chair in search of "little fishies." Apparently sardines were one of the few dead things she liked.
Dirty Harry flexed a front paw, letting his claws prick Cynna's new slacks. She took the hint and resumed petting him. "He's not bothered by Gan at all."
"He?" Lily paused, her knife hovering over a tomato. "Oh, you mean Harry. He does seem pretty clear that she isn't a demon."
Cats hated demons. Harry had proved that his demon radar worked exceptionally well, but he was ignoring Gan. That pretty much proved Gan wasn't a demon anymore, to Cynna's way of thinking. She gave Harry a good rub behind the ears, and he rewarded her by turning up his engine.
"You're sure about the pattern, then." Lily said that in a way that left it hovering between statement and question. "It must have been faint. The ring didn't belong to your mother, and she's been gone a long time, hasn't she?"
"Dead" was the word Lily wasn't using. People sidestepped that word the way they'd step around a pile of dog shit on the sidewalk. Her father was gone. Her mother was dead. Big difference. "She died twenty years ago, so yeah, the pattern was old and very faint. And it was my mother's."
"You can pick up a twenty-year-old pattern from an object that didn't even belong to her?"
"Wedding rings are different. They carry a charge from—"
Gan's piping voice interrupted her. "What's this?" She'd emerged from the pantry with a bag of Goldfish. "It has fishies on it."
"Those are crackers," Lily said. "Cynna, if these people are truly sophisticated spellcasters, is it possible—"
Gan stuffed a handful of the little crackers in her mouth. And immediately spat them out. "Yuck, yuck, yuck! That's not food!"
"Some nutritionists would agree with you," Lily said dryly. "That doesn't make it okay to spit it out on the floor. Get some paper towels and clean it up."
"Don't want to." Gan turned to go back into the pantry.
Rule ripped off a handful of paper towels and walked over to the little not-quite-demon. He grabbed Gan's shoulder. "You made a mess. Clean it up."
Gan glared up at him. "Ow! That hurts!"
"It can hurt more."
"I liked you better when you were a wolf. And I didn't like you at all then." But she took the paper towels.
Lily watched, frowning. "She doesn't challenge you as much as she used to."
"She probably doesn't heal as fast as she used to," Cynna said dryly. Then she noticed the way Rule had stopped moving to
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