Ritual Magic

permission, but ironically, the restructuring that had saved Julia’s mind now kept her from being able to access the memories that Kai said were present, but buried. Until Sam loosened things up, Kai had said, she couldn’t do anything . . . and she wasn’t sure if Sam could undo what he’d done. She’d never seen anything like it.

The black dragon had finally returned that morning. When he did, Rule and Lily had offered Julia a choice. Did she want to attend the wedding as her twelve-year-old self? Or did she want to undergo Sam’s ministrations first, even though it might mean missing the wedding?

Julia had chosen door number two. Sam and Kai had been with her all day. No word on how it was going, and the ceremony would start at four thirty—though they needed to be down ten minutes before that. “What time did you say it was?” Lily asked.

Cynna sighed. “Two minutes until four.”

“You’ll let me put on the necklace now,” Aunt Mequi announced as if Lily had argued against this.

“Don’t mess up her hair,” Beth warned.

Aunt Mequi ignored that for the unnecessary comment that it was. She came up behind Lily and carefully shifted her hair so she could place a single strand of pearls around her neck. It was choker-length and much older than Lily. Lily’s other grandmother—the one who’d died long before she was born—had worn it at her own wedding.

The necklace was part of a set. Mequi had inherited the choker; Deborah had gotten the bracelet, though she’d broken it years ago; and Lily’s mother had been bequeathed the earrings. Pearl drops. Julia had worn the necklace and earrings when she married Lily’s father . . . and Lily would either wear those earrings, too, handed to her by her mother, or none at all.

“The timekeeper says it’s time for the dress,” Cynna said.

Lily didn’t move. She didn’t want to put on her dress. Her mother wasn’t here.

“Do not cry,” Mequi said severely. “Your mascara will run and you will have to clean it off and redo it and —”

A knock on the door interrupted her, followed by her father’s voice. “Someone with me would very much like to come in.” Having said that, he didn’t wait for permission but swung the door open and stepped inside.

Julia Yu came in with him. She wore the sunny yellow suit she’d bought for the ceremony months ago. Hair, makeup, nails—all were perfect. She looked like Lily’s mother, not like the twelve-year-old girl Lily had gotten to know and like, but . . . Lily stood slowly, her heart pounding. “Julia?”

“I do not approve of children addressing their parents by their first names, Lily. You know that.” And Julia Yu opened her arms to her daughter.

* * *

“. . . AND so now I have seven friends!” The small orange being beamed up at Rule. Gan wore a blue-and-green-striped gown that plunged nearly to her waist in front, revealing a great deal of her truly amazing breasts. She’d accessorized the gown with a purple vest, seven bracelets, five rings, and two necklaces. One was the medallion of her office in Edge. The other was an absurdly large sapphire pendant surrounded by diamonds. She was about an inch taller than the last time Rule had seen her, and she’d started growing hair. Blue hair. He’d complimented her on it the moment he saw her. She’d looked smug. Hair, she’d said, was very tricky, but she thought she had the hang of it.

“You are becoming quite wealthy,” he told her now.

“Well, yes”—Gan touched the large sapphire that dangled between her breasts and scowled—“I’m rich these days, but that isn’t why they’re my friends!”

“Rich in friendships,” Rule explained. “My people consider that true wealth.”

“Huh!” She thought that over. “Your people are weird. Does Lily think about it like that, too?”

“I believe so.”

She thought some more, then announced, “Lily’s richer than me, then, but I don’t think all these people are her friends.” She waved broadly to indicate the guests all around them on the resort’s wide green lawn. “I bet a lot of them are just half friends.”

“Half friends?”

“You know—people you like, but you don’t really trust. Like you and me.”

“Ah.” He smiled. “You know, I suspect we are on our way to becoming actual friends, not just halves.”

Gan’s eyes widened. “You do? I’m not at all sure about your wolf. Do all these humans trust your wolf, even when it’s really close to the top like it is right now?”

That startled Rule. Surely Gan was just guessing. “What do you mean?”

The former demon snorted. “As if I couldn’t see! He’s right there in your uther. In your eyes, too.”

Apparently Gan saw more than Rule had realized. “My wolf is good at waiting. He’s helping with that.” He glanced at his watch.

“You really are eager to get married with Lily, aren’t you? Even though it means you don’t get to fuck anyone else.”

“Even so,” Rule agreed solemnly.

“Huh.”

“It’s almost time for me to take my place for the ceremony. Can I introduce you to someone before I go?” Gan had come with Max, but Rule didn’t see his half-gnome friend anywhere. He didn’t want to abandon Gan in the midst of a crowd she didn’t know who were wary of her.

Gan pointed. “That woman in blue with the big breasts. She has a good laugh. I can hear it all the way over here.”

Gan had been a hermaphrodite and a demon for most of her life before waking up fully female one morning when they were in hell. She was now the chancellor in Edge—an extremely important position, as she enjoyed pointing out—but she still had a great appreciation for breasts. Abel Karonski’s wife could handle Gan’s conversational style, Rule decided, unlike many of his other guests. Everyone had hung back when he started talking to the small orange person who’d stopped being a demon when she started growing a soul. Because of Lily, her first friend. “Come on, then. You’ll like Margarita.”

Rule deposited Gan with Abel and Margarita and started making his way toward the small grove where his attendants should be waiting. It might take awhile. Everyone wanted to speak to him.

Rule had wanted a traditional wedding. For the most part, it would be. He’d wanted to underscore that this was a true marriage, and for all that the size and cost of their celebration had flustered Lily, deep down she, too, felt the pull of rites that went back centuries. And many of the human traditions were lovely, a pleasure to adopt, but he did not like the custom of the groom hiding away from his guests until the ceremony began. Rule couldn’t ignore guests that way.

Besides, greeting people had kept him busy. Waiting was difficult.

“Ha! Rule!” A hearty clap on the back didn’t quite send Rule staggering. “You’re looking very James Bond in your tux. Smooth and sophisticated. Hiding those nerves well, at least from all these humans.”

Rule turned to grin at the slim man with the sledgehammer punch. “What, Andor, can’t you smell the difference between nerves and eagerness for the hunt?”

Andor laughed. “You’re comparing a wedding to a hunt? Maybe you’re not so far off, but are you sure you’re hunter, not prey?”

Rule smiled. “I think Lily and I hunted each other, without knowing it. And now we hunt together.”

“Hunt partners?” Andor pursed his lips. “Well, Lucas has seen your Chosen on the hunt. She impressed him, and my son is not easily impressed, so I won’t argue with you. Tell me about this fight with Friar that you think sent him underground.”

Lily had worried that not many lupi would attend, given how controversial their union was among his people. In the end, forty-one Nokolai had accepted their invitations. That had surprised and pleased Rule and angered Lily, who thought the others were being—as she put it—dicks. Many of his Leidolf were here, too, but as guards. They were needed for security, but he’d made that decision for other reasons. Leidolf was a very conservative clan. His Leidolf were more comfortable in their usual role than as guests to a wedding that appalled, angered, or confused most of them.

Very few from outside the two clans had come. Two of the Rhejes were here—Etorri’s and Leidolf’s—as well as an old friend from Kyffin, and of course Ruben, who was now Rho of Wythe as well as being Lily’s boss.