“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Jim answered, making a face.

I sighed and fretted with the lace on my wrist. “I know, but I’m doing the very best I can to hang on to my sanity. It hasn’t been an easy month, you know, what with Fiat disappearing, and the red dragons continuing their war on us, and having to organize this wedding. I’d have gone stark raving mad if it hadn’t been for Traci.”

The moment the name left my lips, I realized what I’d done. I slapped a hand over my mouth but it was too late—the air in front of us shimmered for a second before collecting itself into the form of a middle-aged man of nondescript features.

“You summoned me, my lord?” the demon asked, its expression the usual one of mild annoyance.

I glanced hurriedly over to my uncle, praying he hadn’t noticed the sudden materialization, but the determined way he snapped a good-bye into the phone before jamming it into his pocket and marching purposefully toward us pretty much killed that particular hope.

“Well, now you’ve done it,” Jim said in a cheerful little voice. “Uncle Damian at twelve o’clock!”

“Jim!” I shouted, wrapping both my hands around its muzzle.

Uncle Damian’s firm step hesitated for a second as he looked at Jim.

“Sowwy,” was my demon’s muffled reply from beneath my hands.

“I think you have some explaining to do, Aisling,” Uncle Damian said in his no-nonsense voice as he stopped in front of me, his steely eyes taking in all three of us.

I felt like I was ten again and had been caught using my uncle’s Cuban cigars as miniature canoes in the toilet.

“Um,” I said, trying to kick-start my brain into thinking up a brilliant explanation that would completely bypass the truth.

“My lord, would you like me to deal with this mortal?” Traci asked, a note of weary resignation in its voice.

“My lord?” Uncle Damian asked, a puzzled frown pulling down his bushy black eyebrows. “Who is this man? How did he just appear out of nothing? And just what the hell is going on with that monstrous dog of yours?”

I looked at Jim. Jim looked back at me and winked. A familiar black, warm presence nudged my awareness. You can show him the true extent of your powers. You will have his respect for what you have become.

“Shut up!” I snarled through gritted teeth, hurriedly adding, “Not you, Uncle Damian. I was talking to…er…”

“She hears voices in her head,” Jim said succinctly. When I glared at it, it shrugged. “He’d already heard me talk. I think you’re going to have to tell him what’s going on.”

“Which I wouldn’t have to do if you’d kept your lips zipped like I asked!”

“Asked, but not ordered,” Jim pointed out, trying hard to adopt an angelic air.

“A mistake I won’t make again. No, Traci, thank you, I don’t need you. I didn’t intend to summon you. Er…how’s everything in Paris?”

The demon’s lips thinned. “Unpleasant.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you in a couple of days, as we planned. Bye-bye.”

Traci opened its mouth to no doubt continue its protest at being put in charge of the European Otherworld, but I didn’t have time to listen to its complaints, not today, not on what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I waved my hand at Traci, and the demon disappeared.

Uncle Damian’s eyes narrowed. “What the devil is going on, Aisling? I want an answer, and I want it right now.”

2

“Right, you want to know what’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on.” I took a deep breath, dreading what was to come.

“Uh-oh,” Jim said, backing away from me. “You may want to get a little distance between you and Ash, Uncle Damian. When she freaks out, stuff happens.”

“I’m not going to freak out. Not yet, anyway.” I had hoped to keep the truth from my uncle, but I’d had a feeling all along that he wasn’t going to buy the story Drake and I had concocted. I fixed him with a determined eye and said, “I’m a demon lord, a prince of Abaddon, which is more or less Hell. I didn’t want the job, and I’m going to be trying like the dickens to get out of it without causing some massive rift whereby people from Abaddon can come into our world and wreak…well, hell. Jim is not a dog, not really. It’s a demon I inadvertently summoned, although it’s not really bad, it’s kind of a former angel-like being who got sent to Abaddon and was kicked out of another demon lord’s legion. And Drake is the leader of a dragon sept. I’m also a Guardian, which as you’ve seen, is kind of a demon wrangler. Got all that? Good. Now can we move on to the part of the day where I have a nervous breakdown because Drake hasn’t shown up to marry me?”

I had expected questions, lots and lots of questions, and sadly, I wasn’t mistaken.

“Demon?” Uncle Damian asked, looking at Jim.

“Yes. Sixth class, which is the least obnoxious of all demons.”

“Hey! Standing right here!” Jim said.

We both ignored it.

“Demon lord?” my uncle asked, eyeing me from toes to nose.

“Yeah. It’s kind of a long story, but I’m not bad either, because I’m really a Guardian, and those are the good guys.”

“The demon lord stuff is just a hobby,” Jim added from the safety of the other side of the room.

“Not…helping,” I said through gritted teeth, waggling my eyebrows at it to let it know I was a few seconds away from commanding it to silence.

“Dragon?” Uncle Damian looked thoughtful as he glanced toward the door.

“Uh…yeah. Drake is a wyvern, actually. That’s the leader of one of the dragon septs. He’s a green dragon. He’s very powerful, and very well respected,” I added, knowing my uncle was big on respect amongst one’s peers.

The explosion I was half expecting never came. Nor did the lecture, or the demand that I leave the church that instant and return home to Oregon with him. Instead, he continued to look thoughtful for a minute, then abruptly nodded his head. “Got it. Where’s Drake?”

I gawked at him. I outright gawked, never a pretty expression, but there are times when nothing but a gawk will do. “You’re not going to rant and rave and demand I leave Drake and Jim and everything? You’re not going to tell me what I just said is impossible, and I must be insane? You’re going to believe me?”