A horrified gasp had me freezing on the spot, the bottle of lens cleaner in my hand as my uncle lifted my chin to look closer at me. “What the hell happened to your eye? And…is that blood?”

I wadded up the tissues I’d been using to wipe the tears. “It’s only temporary. I think. I…oh, it’s a long story, too long to tell here. The end result is that I’ve been proscribed, and one of the side effects of proscription is that your eyes change, and you cry blood.”

“Proscribed? Isn’t that another word for damned?”

“I thought so, too, although I gather it’s just one step on the road to damnation. There’s supposed to be a way to get out of it, but so far we haven’t had any luck trying to figure out how to reverse the process. Physically, it’s no big deal, although the white eyes look a bit freaky, so I’ve been wearing tinted contacts so people don’t get the willies around me until we figure out how to get the proscription lifted.”

It took him a moment to process all that, but process he did. He nodded his head and issued a curt, “Smart.”

“We thought so.” I cleaned the contact, using my purse mirror to pop it back into place. I had just dabbed away the last traces of blood when the door opened.

“…and I said it wasn’t smart to do the planning all by herself, when I was at her disposal. But you know how girls are these days, Reverend Miller…headstrong, always so headstrong, and particularly so with Aisling. Oh, my dear, where is he?” Paula took my hands in hers, giving my fingers a little squeeze. “It’s an hour past time, and Reverend Miller says there is a christening in a half an hour!”

“I’m very sorry to have to rush you,” the rector said, a look of genuine distress on his face. “It’s the McKenzie triplets, you see. Mr. McKenzie is the drummer in that extreme rock band, the one that bites off the heads of chocolate bats. They are here now, ready to set up for the press, and…well, I’m truly sorry, but Mr. McKenzie is most insistent that the baptism go forward.”

“Of course,” I said, making a quick decision. “I’m just sorry we’ve delayed you this long. Please tell him we’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes. Jim, heel. Silently.”

My demon shot me a look that acknowledged it recognized an order when it heard one, although I knew I’d pay for that later.

“Oh, Aisling, this is terrible, just terrible. Damian, where is he? Isn’t there something we can do?”

I left my stepmother wringing her hands and wailing to Uncle Damian as I marched out to the front of the church. I took a deep breath; the church was heavy with the usual scents of wax and wood polish, topped off with a heady note from the white roses that dotted each pew. The conversations from approximately three hundred people died as everyone looked with expectation at me. I smiled nervously, picking out a few familiar faces in the crowd. Only a handful of my family had come to London for the wedding—my stepparents, uncle, and twin cousins who were on their way back to the US after a year spent working at a commune in Italy. A few of the dragons were known to me, but most were there just as a courtesy to Drake.

“Oy! Get a move on!” called someone at the back of the church, where a crowd of people with elaborate hair and Gothic clothing milled, clearly the rock star and his party.

“Sorry. Hi, everyone. We…er…we have a bit of a problem, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel the wedding today. Drake has been unavoidably detained, and the church is needed for a celebrity christening. I want to thank you all for coming today, and say how sorry I am that things didn’t get off the ground, but we’ll try to do this again…er…” I glanced to my left, where the rector stood. “Do you have time tomorrow?”

He thought for a moment. “I could give you an hour in the afternoon. Shall we say three?”

“Yes, thank you. Three o’clock tomorrow, everyone. I will completely understand if you can’t make it, but those of you who can are welcome to attend.”

The hum of conversation started up the second I stopped, my cousins immediately swarming me with questions and platitudes. I told them I’d explain later, shooing them on their way as another familiar figure stopped in front of me.

“Mon amie, you look very charming in that dress. But what is the matter with Drake?”

“Rene, it’s good to see you.” I smiled as he hugged me. “Where’s your wife?”

His eyes smiled right along with the rest of him. “Ah, she suffers from the allergies of the nose, do you remember? It is an infection of sinus she has now, and it is giving her much grief. She is much distraught at having to miss your wedding, but it looks as if that is a moot point, no?”

“I’m sorry she’s sick. And yeah, things have kind of fallen apart. You haven’t…er…heard anything about Drake, have you?”

Rene’s smile faded a little. “It does not work that way, you know?”

“I know. I just thought since you were evidently assigned to me and all, you might know what’s up with Drake. I mean, this does have an impact on my future, so I thought it would fall under the whole fate thing.”

“I’m a daimon, Aisling, not a soothsayer. That simply means I am to present myself to you when you need a helping hand. I cannot see into the future any more than you can.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, but I’m a bit worried about Drake, what with Chuan Ren still out for blood.”

He patted my hands. “I understand, but Drake, he is a dragon most formidable, no? He will not be harmed easily.”

“I know, but…Oh, I’m just being emotional.”

He did the hand pat again. “We shall go look for him, and that will ease your concerns.”

“I guess. Don’t tell me you’ve managed to round up an other taxi?”

“Not this time.” He chuckled. “I have borrowed the car of my cousin Felix. I will wait outside for you to finish with your family.”

“Thanks, Rene.”

A couple of the green dragons came up and asked if there was anything they could do. I thanked them, apologized for the delay, and accepted their promise to pass along any word of Drake, after which they left quietly. It took a good ten minutes for my family to help the wedding planners pick up all the decorations, leaving me exhausted, sick with worry about Drake, and still stinging from the blistering the rock star gave me as he yanked down my bundles of white roses and satin ribbons.