"And that, younglings," Benedict said lazily, "is how the dance is supposed to be done."

The crowd exploded-applauding, yelling. Lily heard someone call out, "Piers-for Lady's sake!" and someone behind her was saying over and over, "Get back, get back. Give him some space."

It was the name-Piers-that got her attention. Wasn't that the young lupus Rule had mentioned who'd just been allowed to leave terra tradis, where young lupi were sequestered? If so, he was only eighteen, not an official adult yet. She turned, trying to see over or through people.

What she saw was Rule slipping through the crowd. She followed. He stopped and held out his arm. She stepped into that welcoming circle. He was warm and sweaty from the dance.

Another circle had formed, she realized-a circle of men around a panting, excited wolf with a brindle coat. One man was laughing. Another grinned and shook his head. Another sighed.

Lily was the only female in the circle. The only human. There were no children nearby, either. The wolf was surrounded only by other lupi . . . and her.

Piers must have gotten so excited that he lost control and Changed. For an adolescent, that was a huge no-no-because he might lose control in other ways, too. Lily was contemplating the wisdom of stepping back when Isen strode up to the wolf. He stopped, hands on hips, and shook his head. "Piers," he said. Just that, but with such disappointment.

The wolf's ears went flat. His tail drooped. His head sagged in sudden dejection.

"You know what you must do now."

The wolf cocked his head, gave a hopeful wag of his tail.

Isen said nothing.

The wolf sighed and nodded.

"Straight back," Isen said. "No interesting detours. You'll Change as soon as you're able and explain to Mason what happened."

Mason was the lupus in charge of the terra tradis. Lily hadn't met him, but she'd heard stories. He sounded like a combination drill instructor and headmaster with a sprinkling of priest.

"Isen?" one of the older men said. "Do you want me to . . . ?" He made a little circular gesture.

"Thank you for the offer. However . . ." Isen gave the abject wolf another look. "I trust Piers to take himself back."

That perked the wolf up. He gave another, firmer nod.

"What just happened?" someone behind Lily asked.

She turned to see Susan's husband frowning at the wolf trotting out of the circle. Paul was a tall, gangly man with rimless glasses and shiny black hair that he had cut every week so there was no chance of a single hair falling out of place. He was as serious as a rain cloud and rather shy.

"Hi, Paul. Uh-Piers was sent back to the terra tradis."

"The what?" He shook his head. "Never mind. Is he dangerous?"

They all are, Lily wanted to say. But that was both too much information and too little. She kept her mouth closed.

Rule answered in the same relaxed way he fielded questions from reporters. "Simply overexcited, but he wasn't supposed to Change, so he had to be disciplined. We're firm with our youngsters about the circumstances in which they're allowed to Change."

"I wondered because Susan and I were moved away when he . . . when he did that. Changed. We were moved away physically."

"I apologize for any rudeness."

"No, no, I wasn't offended. I simply . . ." Paul was still watching the place in the crowd where the wolf had vanished, an odd expression on his face. "I've never seen anything like that."

"Not many have, outside the clans." Rule's tone was perfectly matter-of-fact, yet somehow suggested that Paul was both privileged and too wise to make a fuss about that privilege. "Paul, I was hoping for a chance to chat with you tonight. I won't keep you from Susan long-I think the regular dancing will start soon-but I'd like your opinion of a stock I'm considering, a medical technology company. You'll have an insider's knowledge of their products."

Paul perked up much as the wolf had, if not quite so obviously. He had an important position in hospital administration-Lily could never remember the exact title, but he made a lot of purchasing decisions and loved to talk about the technology of medicine.

She hid a smile and let Rule do his thing. His flattery worked because it was sincere. He probably was considering that stock-he maintained a diverse portfolio for Nokolai-and he did appreciate hearing Paul's opinion of the company. And before Paul left Clanhome tonight, he would be convinced Rule Turner was an unusually astute and sensible man. One with an odd ability, maybe, but his occasional furriness would no longer seem important.

The drumming had started up again. After a moment the fiddles joined in. The regular dancing would begin soon. Lily let her attention drift away, looking for Benedict or Cullen. She wanted a word with the former, and she needed to give Cullen the . . . Wait. Was that who Beth had seen earlier?

The man she'd seen moving through the crowd was certainly Asian, but he didn't look like Freddie. He was shorter, for one thing, and his face was rounder than Freddie's. She thought he was older, too. She'd gotten only a quick glimpse, but he'd looked older. Plus he'd been wearing a T-shirt and baseball cap. Stuffy Freddie didn't own a baseball cap. She wasn't sure he owned a T-shirt.

She touched Rule's arm. "I need to find Cullen and give him his present."

He gave her the kind of smile he ought to reserve for when they were alone, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it. "You'll save me a dance."

"Maybe two." One dance here. One when they were alone. Lily smiled at that thought and left him to his business talk.

Ten minutes later she gave up on finding the Asian man. She couldn't even find anyone who'd seen him. In this sea of Caucasian faces and bare chests, he ought to stand out, dammit. Any human male ought to stand out here, but the few who'd noticed an Asian man apparently meant Paul, based on what they remembered about height and clothing. No one remembered seeing anyone in a baseball cap.

Of course, that proved nothing. Lily had interviewed too many witnesses to have much confidence in human memory and attention to detail, and she had no reason to think lupi did any better.

But some of them did. Some, she realized, would have been paying attention. She nodded and started looking for a man no one would overlook.

Sure enough, Benedict was easy to find.

The fiddlers had launched into a lively song and people were making room for dancing-square dancing, she thought, from the sound of the music. Or 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 it's a place to start."

"Good. Why did you participate in the dance tonight?"

"To impress the youngsters so they'll try harder."

"That's not the only reason. Rule danced, too, and neither of you usually does."

His mouth curved up a fraction. "You're perceptive. It's annoying at times. Very well. I also sent a message. I'm not speaking to my brother, but I fully support my Lu Nuncio. It was best everyone understood that."

So his problem with Rule was personal, not a "good of the clan" thing. "You think they'll get that message from the dance?"

His eyebrows lifted about a millimeter. "Of course."

Hmm. "Well, it made for a fantastic show. But how in the world did you end it that way? Even if you're strong enough to just stop Cullen one-handed, it seems like you'd break a few bones-his, yours, both."

"For someone who isn't combat-trained, Seabourne's a-"

Half the mage lights bobbing overhead went out.

Benedict's head whipped up. Without a gesture or word or a single damned clue what was wrong, he took off running.

When Benedict moved, people got out of his way. Fast. She couldn't come close to keeping up, but by putting everything she had into her sprint she managed to catch the openings in the crowd he created.

People called out. The music died. She lost the Benedict-driven opening and was faced with a wall of bare backs. She resorted to shoving. This crowd wouldn't care about her badge, and she had to get through.

Rule was ahead. She felt him. Something had happened, something had gone wrong- "Nokolai!" Isen's deep voice bellowed. "If you are not a guard, sit down! Now!"

All over the field, they dropped. Men and women alike-even children-they all sat on the grass as their Rho had commanded. No questions, no hesitation.

Except Lily. She was Nokolai and technically not a guard, but it didn't occur to her to sit. Not when the way was suddenly clear. Not when she could see over the heads of those in front of her.

Several hadn't dropped to the ground. Guards. Benedict, of course, wasn't sitting. He stood beside Isen, his eyes busy and his Glock in his hand. But he had nothing to shoot.

And Rule. He wasn't standing, but kneeling, kneeling next to a man stretched out in the grass. At first all she saw of that man were the legs, bare like most legs tonight. The rest of him was hidden by Cynna's crimson-clad back, bent over him, and by the woman kneeling beside her, whom Lily recognized by the hair-long, dusty gray mixed with brown, a frizzy, flya way mane trailing to her waist.

Nettie, the clan's healer.

Lily's feet carried her two more steps at an angle, and she saw the rest. Saw Cullen Seabourne's body lying peacefully in the grass, his still, empty face staring up at the starry sky.

SIX.

"YOU are not dead," Cynna was saying fiercely, her hands digging into Cullen's shoulders. "You are not. You are not dead. Dammit, Cullen, you-"

"I've got him," Nettie said crisply. She'd flattened her hands on Cullen's chest. "Cynna, get back. You're leaking. It interferes."

Lily couldn't feel her feet. She was standing, so they must still be there at the end of her legs, but she couldn't feel them. Her last breath had pulled something bad inside her, unreality spreading like poison through her body, paralyzing her. No, she wanted to say along with Cynna. No, he can't be dead. Cullen can't be- Cullen's chest quivered. It lifted, ever so slightly, then fell. His eyelids drifted closed.

Lily sucked in a breath, too. This one dispelled the poison and she hurried to Cynna. "Come on, Cynna. Move back. Let Nettie work. You're right. You're right, he isn't dead, but you have to move back."

He wasn't dead now. Seconds ago, he had been. Or at least he hadn't been breathing. An atavistic shiver threw goose bumps along Lily's arms. She pulled on Cynna, who allowed it, 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."