Jocasta leads us to the patio, the scene of last night's horror show. d.i.c.kie, who adds water to the gla.s.ses, is almost grimacing when he sees me. I nod reverently, and he returns the gesture. Debbie leaves her fiance's side for the first time tonight to come over to me. "Can we talk?"

"Sure. Girls, behave."

"I'll keep an eye on them," Collins says.

Debbie drags me to the side. "Are you okay? I was so worried. I tried calling a million times."

"I was very busy. And I'm fine. A hundred percent fine. Don't worry about me, just worry about buying sunscreen for your honeymoon," I say, rubbing her arm.

"Of course I'm worried. You had your heart broken, and then almost died."

"Really," I chuckle, "I'm fine. It'd take a lot more than a few ugly words and a demon to bring me down. You know that. It's done, it's over, I've moved on."

She looks skeptical but says, "Okay. And how are Clay and ...

Adam?"

"Fine. We were all very lucky."

"Why isn't he here tonight? Shouldn't he be guarding you?"

"Um, we sort of decided it was time for him to go home." I start playing with my pendant. "You know, the demon's dead, and it's only a matter of time before I can prove Cheyenne's guilt. He has a life in Maryland. It's time."

"You both decided this?" she asks.

"Yes. Now stop worrying about me. This is your night. You're getting married!" I hug her. "I'm so proud of you." I release her. "Come on. I'm starving."

I actually get to enjoy my dinner tonight, and the only scenes that are caused are when Collins and Greg toast Debbie. Everyone has a great time. Groomsmen flirt with the bridesmaids, the girls play with the ring bearer, and the happy couple only has eyes for each other. I manage to keep a pleasant smile on my face watching the joy, but inside ...

I'm just exhausted. Emotionally, physically, h.e.l.l even spiritually. I mean ... a houseboy? Is he kidding? I never, not once, took him for granted. I saved his freaking life last night. I didn't give up on him even when they told me to. I was safe, I didn't have to go back for him. And I'm paying him for the work on the store, and he never asked for money for cooking and watching the girls. I give him free room and board. And if memory serves, he used me for s.e.x as much as I did him. Houseboy, indeed.

Maybe it would be best if he left. He could stop resenting me and I can stop ... the same. He needs to go back to his pack. He needs to go back to his life; once Cheyenne is neutralized, I can go back to mine. Yippee. I can't wait.

Collins grimaces as a boisterous groomsman talks, and talks, and talks. She needs a rescue, and I need to speak with her. Win win. I grab two salt shakers, putting them in my purse, before going over. "Collins, take a walk with me?"

She glances at the wine-chugging man. "Love to." She follows me down the patio steps to the gra.s.sy hills. "Where are we going?"

"To tie up a loose end from last night."

"I heard what happened. What was the demon doing here?"

"It was here to kill me," I say nonchalantly.

"What?" she asks, shocked. "Why?"

I stop walking and turn to her. "Because your sister wants me dead." I start strolling alone as I let those words sink in, but within a few seconds she runs to my side. Before she can bombard me with questions, we reach the grave. It's just a mound of dirt where the earth cracked. More than she deserves. I pull out the two shakers and hand one to Collins. "We need to salt the ground just to be safe." I pour salt into my hand and sprinkle it like seed. She follows my lead. "She teamed up with a vampire in Richmond named Alejandro. Has Cheyenne ever mentioned him?"

"I-I don't know," she says. "I can never keep her boyfriends straight."

"You know it's kind of odd you haven't jumped to her defense yet. If you accused Debbie of the same thing, I'd probably claw your eyes out. Talk to me, Collins."

She pauses, then asks, "Do you have any proof?"

"I know she's been to Alejandro's club. I know she has a black magic grimoire stashed somewhere. I know the demon was around her house. I know I'm not her favorite person. I know there are only four people in line for my job, and she's one of them."

"So am I, but ... that's why you asked me if I wanted to be Priestess. You were testing me."

"And you pa.s.sed. That and you're one of the few without a single tie to Alejandro. I ruled Erica out last night, can't see Shirley doing it, Whitney is fourteen, so Cheyenne it is. The demon even looked like her. I just need proof."

"I-I can't help you. I'm sorry."

"A lot of people almost died last night, Collins. She did that. Next time it could be the girls. Or Debbie." I walk over to her. "Listen, I know she's your sister. I know deep down that you love her and want to protect her, but she's dangerous. To us all. I'm asking, no I'm begging, not only as your High Priestess but as the woman who helped you get ready for junior prom. Who took you to the doctor to get on the pill. Who baked your birthday cake four years in a row. I need your help. Please."

She opens and closes her mouth a few times, but words don't come out. I know this is tough on her. I hate myself for asking, but I'm out of options. If she doesn't help me, that's it. Finally, she says, "Of course."

I hug the girl. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

She pulls away. "I'm not surprised, you know. She's d.a.m.n jealous of you and Debbie, has been since we were kids. Meemaw's doing, I guess. She hates your grandmother even now. And there's always been something wrong with Cheyenne, that's not news. When we were kids, she used to catch b.u.t.terflies then burn them with a magnifying gla.s.s and laugh. She tried to starve our pets too. Daddy would smack her, but she kept at it." Collins shakes her head. "What do you need exactly?"

"We searched her house and locker at work but didn't find anything. I just need proof she's linked to Alejandro or the demon. Anything. That grimoire would be useful too."

"I'll see what I can do." She pauses again. "Did you really suspect me? Seriously?"

"For all of three seconds. I mean, you're practically my sister too. You're more a sister to me than Ivy even."

She smiles. "I think the same about you. I kind of always wished it was true."

"Thank you." I take a deep breath and sigh. "Okay, let's finish up here. Even with it dead, I feel the evil." I start throwing salt again.

"Are you sure it can't come back?"

"Nope. But even I'm not that unlucky."

"Famous last words."

G.o.ddess, I hope not.

Sleep for twenty years I make my excuses to the party, going with the always-effective school night defense, and herd the girls to the curb. After last night I decided to splurge and valet the car. Our chariot arrives a minute later, and we're out of there. It's almost their bedtime, so they slump in the back with heavy eyes. I feel the same way. I can't wait to climb under the covers and fade into oblivion.

About halfway home Cora says, "Aunt Mona, why did you yell at Adam?"

"I didn't yell. We had a discussion." Loudly.

"Is he going to his home now?" Cora asks.

"I-I don't know, sweetie. But if he is, we'll be okay. We're tough chicks, we don't need him."

"I don't want him to leave," she whines.

I bite my lower lip. "He has a life, sweetie. He has a job, and friends, and a home he needs to get back to."

"He won't leave," Sophie says with certainty. "He promised he'd film the pageant."

"Honey, I can film it," I say.

"I know, but he promised. He won't leave until then," she says with finality. She pauses, and then asks, "We really can't watch TV for a month?" I shake my head no. "That sucks."

"Language!"

The rest of the ride not a word is uttered. As the miles pa.s.s I grow more and more apprehensive, and by the time we pull into the driveway, my whole body might as well be made of stone. All the lights are off. No life inside. He must have called a taxi to the train station. d.a.m.n it. I start playing with my hair. I don't want to go into that house. I know I'm not going to like what I find in there. The girls have no such worries. Getting a second wind, they leap out and run to the door like race cars. I pull my wrecked body upright and slowly amble toward the door, unlocking it.

Cora squeezes in before it's all the way open, shouting, "Adam?"

I turn on the foyer light with a sigh. No noise except us. Cora stomps up the stairs shouting his name. I set down my purse as Sophie moves into the dark living room and kitchen. Cora stops shouting. The silence is maddening. That's when it hits me like a two by four. He really left. He's gone. A wave of sadness ripples through me. He wouldn't. No. He promised. He- "What kind of flowers did you imagine?"

I inhale a ragged breath. I must have stopped breathing. h.e.l.l's bells.

Adam and Cora walk onto the landing, both smiling. "Roses and daisies. My dress has daisies on it too."

"I can't wait to see it." He looks down at me. "Hey."

"Hi," I squeak. Oh thank you G.o.ddess. Thank you.

Sophie comes into the foyer with a gla.s.s of water. "Told you not to worry. I knew he'd be here."

"Yes, you did," I say with a little laugh. "Okay, um, it's bedtime. Showers, pajamas, bed. Big day tomorrow. Go on."

Sophie treads up the stairs, and as she pa.s.ses Adam, he ruffles her hair before walking down to me. "You were worried?"

"Not really," I say with bravado.

"I'm not going to lie, I almost left," he says. "Vivian talked me down though."

"You called Jason's wife?"

"Yeah. Needed a woman's perspective. She convinced me to stick it out, at least until the Sat.u.r.day deadline."

G.o.ddess bless that woman. "Well, it's your choice," I say. "We're glad to have you until then. Excuse me." I turn my back on him and start up the steps.

"We need to talk," he says when I'm halfway up. "About us."

And my happiness buzz is swatted away. I stop, groan, and spin around. "Can it please wait until tomorrow? I'm exhausted."

"No, I've put it off long enough."

I sigh. Great. "Okay, fine." I take a step down. "We had s.e.x, big whoop. I take full responsibility for what happened. I didn't really mean to turn you into my s.e.x toy like you said, but I'm not sorry about it either. It was wonderful. You are phenomenal in bed, but I don't expect anything from you. I know you're leaving soon, and it was a one-off, and-"

"I'm in love with you," he states as fact.

Did he ... what?

My mouth snaps shut like a bear trap, and my eyes bug out of my head. He just stands there as if waiting for a d.a.m.n bus. How the h.e.l.l can he just act as if those words never happened? A trillion thoughts run through my mind in a flash, and I can't keep them straight. "What-you-no-what?" I stammer. He's in love. With me. Me. No way. No ...

The shock wears off, and one thought pushes through. My shoulders slump. Of course. "Oh d.a.m.n. Not again." I take a step down. "Did one of the girls give you a piece of jewelry or something to drink right before you started feeling this way? Because-"

"I've been in love with you for eighteen years. Since the moment I saw you. You're my mate."

I'm his ... werewolves have an evolutionary advantage when it comes to love. When they meet "the one" they instantly know it. Call it pheromones or magic, but they just know. I'm his mate. For some reason this thought makes me dizzy.

"What? No. No. You-you hated me. You avoided me like the plague whenever I got near you."

He takes a step toward me. "I avoided you because it was the only way for me to control myself around you." He steps. "I avoided you because the only other alternative was for me to pin you against the wall and screw you senseless."

"But-but I had braces, and pimples, and ... no. No."

He steps onto the stairs, gazing up at me with fierce determination. "I have loved you since I first saw you, and that love has grown and grown through the years so that ... I can barely stand it anymore. I love you. It isn't a spell, it isn't a figment of my imagination, it is a stone cold fact. I love you."

I can't move or even blink. I'm paralyzed. I have no idea what to say or do, or, h.e.l.l, even feel. Because I believe him. "Why-why didn't you say something?" I whisper.

For the first time, he looks away. "Because. Couple reasons, I guess. The first being you barely knew I was alive. I was just one of Jason's werewolves you saw a couple times a year then forgot about."

"If you had talked to me, maybe asked me out, that might have changed," I point out.

"I know that. I thought about it every time I knew I was going to see you. I'd psych myself up saying, 'This time. This is the time I tell her.' Then I'd talk myself out of it."

"Why?" I ask shrilly.

"My second reason." He looks up at me again, face a little angry. "I can't be with you."

These words are like an icicle to my heart. "You-why-why not?"

"You're a witch. A powerful witch. If we mated, our children would be considered hybrids by pack law. They're considered a threat to the pack. I'd have to leave it, go rogue, and I wasn't ready to do that. It was too big a gamble."

"'Was?'" I ask, my voice cracking.

He takes a step up, then looks me square in the eyes. "We heard about the threat to you, and I ... lost it. I took off, didn't even wait for my Alpha's approval. You were in danger, and that was all that mattered."

"You could have died. You were tortured!"

"And you patched me up."