“It was only when she was nearing the end of her life, when a man she had never met before walked into her village, that she was able to experience what it felt like to become immediately and irrevocably attached to another person.
“Mira desired a child from this union. She returned to the shaman. She was granted her wish, which she heard, but she was so overcome with joy that she did not absorb the rest of the shaman’s blessing.
“Though her moon blood had ceased years before, Mira bore a miracle baby. That baby thrived and matured into a beautiful woman. This woman carried Mira’s gift of sight, and her ability to solidify love bonds. Since that time, the ability to create love matches has come through in at least one of Mira’s female descendants in every generation.
“In my lifetime, that person was my sister, Moira.”
My sisters and I gave a collective sigh as Tía’s story came to an end. Alderose slid off the table and stretched her arms overhead. Her spine popped as she twisted to one side, then the other. “That would imply one or more of us is next in line to carry on with this gift?”
“Correct.”
I piped in with, “But you haven’t explained the Demesne.”
My aunt interlaced her fingers under her chin. “Every one of Mira’s ancestors carries the potential to recognize their own truest love. The moment hits like the lightning dancing across the sky this very night.” She looked to Alabastair. “I had no knowledge of the Demesne, until the night I experienced its power, which was the same night I met Alabastair for the first time.”
The necromancer picked up the thread. “It is possible to refuse the call. If either individual does not agree, then the two must separate immediately and never again be in one another’s presence until such as time as the Brodeur has experienced the Demesne again.
“Having been brought to my knees at my first sight of Maritza, I can attest to this phenomenon’s extraordinarily jarring effect. I can also attest to the ways in which the Demesne simply points out the obvious and cuts away the need for courtship.”
Alabastair made a point of directing his next comment to the demons at my back. “Which is not to say it does away with courtship altogether. If anything, it enhances and enriches the mating dance.”
Laszlo planted his knuckles on the table and glared at the necromancer. “What you’re saying is that I’m destined to spend the rest of my life with Clementine Brodeur, if I choose to accept the terms of the Demesne?”
“That is correct.”
Laszlo turned to Kostya. “I should have ignored your text and remained at the reception, my brother.”
My face flamed from the inside out, even as every cell in my body yearned to be wrapped in Laszlo’s rock-hard arms. I dropped my gaze to my crossed legs, picked at the knee of my jumpsuit, and reminded myself I bruised easily.
“Clementine can hear you loud and clear, my brother,” Kostya whispered, then added for everyone’s benefit, “We ordered dinner for everyone. The delivery guy’s waiting at the front door. Laz, with me.”
My aunt stepped closer as the demons thundered down the stairs and rested her hands on my legs. “Darling Clementine, chin up.”
I lifted my head. I could feel the tears waiting to spill down my cheeks. “On top of everything else, I have to decide if a demon that I just met, who obviously doesn’t want me, should be mine forever or be released from his—obligations? Really, Tía?”
“Oh, my sweet girls.” She looked to Beryl and Alderose. “If it is any solace, look to me and Alabastair, to your uncle Malvyn and his beloved, James. Look to your own parents, who maintain the power of the bond even across death.”
“That kind of destined bond would explain Dad’s absenteeism since Mom died,” Alderose said. “It must have been that much more painful to lose her.”
“Is there anything I can do to…to delay this thing?” I asked.
“I can construct a charm for you and the demon that will dampen the attraction enough that you can focus on the task at hand. Though I don’t think I can make the charm last longer than twenty-four hours.”
Maritza leaned into Alabastair’s chest and smiled when he crossed his arms in front of her shoulders. “The Demesne acts like a powerful, cosmic push in a direction you never saw coming,” she said. “I would counsel you to not discount the timing of its arrival, Clementine.”
My sisters and I squeezed hands, exchanged confused glances, and slid off the table. I didn’t miss the look that passed between Beryl and Kostya when the brothers walked through the doorway bearing brown paper bags. Kostya set his on the nearest table, went right to my sister, and enfolded her in his embrace. The realization hit me that as much as she enjoyed being with him—and had chosen to be with him during this visit and maybe beyond—that he was not her Demesne. We would have heard about it in exquisite detail if she had experienced anything like what had just happened to me.
Alderose had withdrawn into her shell, a process that seemed easier given she was wearing protective gear around her chest and had the rest of it crammed in the duffel bag she’d dropped by the door. As I watched her and Laszlo open the paper bags and set out the contents, it struck me how well suited my sister and the demon appeared, at least from the outside.
She was a warrior, dressed in body-hugging, leather-like armor and packed with weapons. He was every inch the kind of being who took command—of a room, of a situation, of his lover’s body. Plus, they were both the oldest of three siblings.
I couldn’t avoid looking at Laszlo. The pull to be near him was insatiable, as though my aunt had sewn magnets into the very fabric of my clothing and he was the
