Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties by authors_sort Page A

two longest walls, almost as miscellaneous as their contents—three
     of them wood, two metal, one plastic, and one an incongruously elegant glass étagère.
    The corners of the room held a ratty old recliner, a woodstove, a sink, and a cage.
     On one side of the circle laid into the floor was a long table—counter height, not
     dining. On the side nearest Lily was a perfectly ordinary looking pair of filing cabinets
     and a desk. The top of the desk held a lizard—alive—three Nerf balls, an ornate spoon,
     a surprisingly healthy aloe plant, a litter of papers, two pencils, a paperback book
     by Douglas Adams, a broken clock, a bottle of ink, and a small cauldron. And Cullen’s
     grimoire.
    It was large, covered in black leather, with a runic symbol of some kind on the front.
     Anyone looking at that would guess what it was. “Why didn’t he take your grimoire?”
     she asked.
    Cullen was squatting in front of one set of shelves, frowning at its contents. Apparently
     that wasn’t enough. He leaned forward to sniff them, too. “He didn’t see it.”
    “A lookaway spell?”
    “Yeah. Though the one you’re looking at is a fake.” He rose to stand with his hands
     on his hips, scowling around at his invaded domain.
    “I take it he didn’t find the real one, either.”
    “I don’t keep it here.” He dropped to his haunchessuddenly. “If that dung-begotten abortion of a thief got hold of my—” He started to
     reach under the table.
    “No hands!” Lily reminded him firmly. “No touching.”
    Cullen swung his scowl around at her. “And how the hell am I supposed to know if he
     found my copy of Czypsser’s grimoire if I don’t look?”
    “Smell?”
    “Shit, the whole place stinks of him!”
    She frowned confused. “Does he have an unusually strong odor, then?” The perp couldn’t
     have been in here long. “Or did he touch a lot of things?”
    “No.” Cullen grudged that answer. “Go investigate somewhere else for a while.” He
     turned away and stalked over to the glass étagère.
    “Have you found anything else missing?”
    “No.” Cullen bent to study one of those outbreaks of order: an empty shelf. His worn-to-a-thread
     jeans looked ready to give up the battle for intactness any moment. His running shoes
     were equally ragged, and his spice brown hair stood up in spikes. He was as pretty
     a bit of eye candy as any woman was likely to see, and he was in a rage.
    Not just pissed off. He’d been that earlier. Maybe it was a lupi thing, set off by
     the smell of an intruder in his space? Whatever the reason, he all but vibrated with
     anger. “Not,” he added crisply as he stopped scrutinizing the barren shelf, “that
     I can tell for sure without
touching
things.”
    She nodded. “Makes sense, if he’s a pro.”
    “A pro?” Brilliant blue eyes focused on her. His lovely mouth sneered at her. “He
     left behind my copy of Czypsser’s grimoire! Do you know what that thing’s worth?”
    “He came here for one thing, got it, and got out. Didn’t let greed make him linger
     because he knew he didn’t have much time.”
    His eyes were even wilder than his hair, the blue flame-bright—and starting to darken.
     The pupils seemed to be growing as black ate into the irises. “If the rat bastard
     is a pro, he’d better be ready to be professionally eviscerated. When I—”
    “Cullen.”
    “—get my hands on him I’m going to ask real nicely how he got past the flare ward,
     and if I like his answer maybe I won’t—”
    “Cullen!”
    Cullen stopped midword. Closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran both hands through
     his hair. Again. “I’m okay.”
    The black had receded from his pupils, so she believed him. “Good. Let’s step outside.
     I need to call the CSI team in. While we wait for them, I’ve got some questions about
     your prototype.”
    He fell into step beside her. “When I think about all the hours and hours of work
     I put into it, and then