She snorted. Some of her intensity faded, but she didn’t release Lily’s hand. “You ask him. Ask Robert Friar about his daughter, Mariah.”

“All right. What can you tell me about her?”

“She had a baby two months ago, a little boy. She claims he’s Steve’s son.”

It was late in the afternoon in late April, the sun was shining, and Lily was almost too warm in her lightweight jacket.

That was as it should be. Why did cold weather, snow, and ice get such great press when it sucked? Of course, not everyone was lucky enough to live in San Diego.

“Why so smug?” Rule asked.

“Did you know that the U.S. Weather Service calls San Diego’s weather the most nearly perfect in the country?” To be fair she added, “Hawaii’s supposed to be nice, too.”

He laughed. “You’re glad to be home.”

“Yeah.” Even for a little while, and even if she wasn’t exactly home. Maybe Rule’s condo was supposed to be home now, but it wasn’t hers. She didn’t pay for anything there except some of the groceries. Which reminded her…“The lease comes due on my apartment next month.”

“Hmm.”

She glanced at him. “You’re not going to tell me how stupid it is for me to keep paying rent when we’re living together and your place is so much bigger?”

“Why would I tell you what you already know? You’ll keep the apartment if you feel a need. If not, you’ll let it go.”

She walked beside him for a few steps in silence. “If I weren’t investigating, I’d hold your hand right now.”

Promptly he took hers.

“Hey.” But she didn’t pull away. She told herself no one would notice—they were mostly blocked from view by the parked cars. “Mariah Friar’s baby. He isn’t Steve’s son, is he?”

“No. It’s not uncommon for a woman to claim one of us as the father. Sometimes they believe it to be true. Sometimes they hope for support, emotional or financial or both. Sometimes they want the notoriety.”

“Hmm.” She accepted Rule’s word as both honest and accurate. He would know. Lupi never had to play who’ s-the dad. When a lupus impregnated a woman, he was instantly aware of it.

Lily might not have believed that if she hadn’t been almost present when it happened once. Cynna and Cullen had made love in the next room, not in front of her—and thank God for that—but there was no doubt in her mind that Cullen had known immediately that his seed had caught.

Any lupus blessed with a child notified his Rho ASAP. One as desperate for a child as Hilliard had been would have announced it to the entire clan. Certainly to his oldest friend. “So, how exactly did you stalk Chief Daly?”

“I don’t know why I thought you might forget to ask about that.”

“I don’t, either.”

He flashed her a grin. “Smart-ass. All right. For about a month, I made sure good old Pete saw a lot of me. Sometimes two or three times a day. We’d run into each other at the post office or Joe’s Burgers—he likes the chili burger with extra jalapeños. Sometimes I’d skip a couple days. Doesn’t do to be predictable.”

“That’s enough to make him mad, not to make him sweat. He started sweating when he saw you.”

“Some of the places where I ran into him would have been unexpected.”

“Such as?”

“Now and then I’d wait for him to come home after a long day’s work—he’s divorced, lives alone—have a little chat, and leave as soon as he fell asleep.”

She stopped walking. “He fell asleep with you there? You broke into the chief of police’s house, and he went to sleep instead of arresting you?”

“It was an apartment, actually, and he wasn’t the chief then. And I had a little charm Cullen made for me.”

“A sleep charm.”

“Worked beautifully, too. So did the other charm Cullen gave me.”

“And that was?”

He smiled, but his eyes were hard. “A confusion charm. Poor Pete wasn’t sure of anything. What time did he see me? What day? He had a couple patrollers keeping an eye on me by then, but they swore I’d never gone near his place on the night he thought I’d showed up.”

“He didn’t even know which night you were there? Surely he could work it out.”

“He’d wake up with the last few days jumbled. He wasn’t sure when anything happened.”

“That’s…chilling.”

“He was the chief detective in a town that borders Clanhome. Steve wasn’t the first lupus he’d picked up for trivial or manufactured reasons and beaten. We heal so conveniently well, you see, that there are never any marks later. He needed to know he’d pay a price for indulging his little hobby.”

“Did he do that to you?” she demanded. “Did he beat you?”

Something flickered in his eyes, too brief for her to read it. “No. But those he did hurt were mine to protect.”

She frowned as she started walking again. “I’ve never heard of a confusion charm. How hard is it to make?”

“The confusion charm is Cullen’s own creation, and he called it fiendishly difficult. I doubt anyone else has one, at least in this realm, though I suppose it’s possible Cullen traded one for something at some point.”

“Hmm. He probably wouldn’t trade the spell itself.”

“He’s possessive about that sort of thing,” Rule agreed. “We’ve reached the car.”

So they had. It was a plain white sedan that all but shouted “I am a government vehicle.” One of the regular agents assigned to the San Diego office had brought it to her at the airport. Someone from Nokolai was bringing Rule his car, but she wasn’t sure who or when.

Just as Lily clicked the lock, Rule’s phone chimed. He pulled it out, frowned. “I missed a call. Reception’s not great in the mountains, but I’ve got bars here.”

“Could be a bit of magical interference.” One of the things magic interfered with most easily was cell phones. “Is there a node nearby?”

“A small one, I think. I’d better return this one,” Rule said. He did so while they both got into the car. Lily started the engine, thinking about what she knew about sleep charms.

They worked on demons, though not as well as they did on humans.

They had to be touching whoever they were used on.

They weren’t hard to make—at least not for Cullen, but sorcerers were at least as rare as sensitives. Cullen was the only one she knew about. Sorcerers had an edge on other practitioners in that they could see the magic they worked with. According to Cullen, that was like the difference between an electrician who could see the wiring and one who couldn’t, but had a good idea of where the wires were supposed be.

Something had persuaded Hilliard to hold still while he was tattooed. She wasn’t ruling out the possibility he’d done so voluntarily, but considered that less likely than force or coercion. With force…lupi could be knocked out, and the evidence was hard to find afterward, given the way they healed. But it took a lot of force. A sleep charm would be easier.

Would it be more certain, too?

Lily was pulling out of the parking lot when Rule disconnected. “Do sleep charms work on lupi?” she asked.

“Yes. They don’t trigger our healing, since sleep is a natural state, so the effect is the same on us as it is on humans. Lily, we need to go to the jail.”

“We are. I want to talk with Chance. If sleep charms work on you, why aren’t they used when you need surgery?”

“They work, but not that comprehensively. Cullen’s charm won’t keep a lupus asleep through surgery. We’ve tried. Theoretically, someone could make a stronger sleep charm than Cullen can, but—”

“But I won’t tell him you said so.” She smiled to show she meant it. Cullen would return and she’d have the chance to avoid mentioning that, theoretically, someone might be better at one of the magical arts than he. “Tattoo needles don’t penetrate as far as a surgeon’s scalpel. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt enough to interfere with a sleep charm.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. A higher level of pain might break the charm. Cullen believes it’s the sheer disruption of surgery. Our healing takes no notice of spells, but it pays keen attention to our being cut open.”