"Yeah?" He was rooting around in the cupboards for cookies. "It has a special place in my heart. Nothing like a sexy lycanthrope with a conscience."

"I like the way you make the illogical logical." She took a sip of beer. "I mean, you make the rules—they might be really weird rules—but then you follow them."

"Mel's big on rules," Sebastian put in.

"Sorry." Morgana stepped back in. "A slight emergency. Nash, you ate all the cookies already."

"All?" Disappointed, he closed the cupboard door.

"Every crumb." She turned to Sebastian. "I imagine you're wondering if the package came in."

"Yes."

She reached into her pocket and took out a small box of hammered silver. "I think you'll find it quite suitable."

He rose to take it from her. Their eyes met, held. "I trust your judgment."

"And I yours." She took his face in her hands and kissed him. "Blessed be, cousin." In a brisk change of mood, she reached for Nash. "Darling, come out in the shop with me. I want to move some things."

"But Mel was just feeding my ego."

"Heavy things," she said, and gave his hand a tug. "We'll see you soon I hope, Mel."

"Yes. Thanks again." The moment the door closed behind them, she looked at Sebastian. "What was that all about?"

"Morgana understood that I preferred to do this alone." He rubbed his thumb over the box as he watched her.

Mel's smile went a little nervous around the edges. "It's not going to hurt, is it?"

"Painless," he promised. At least for her. He opened the box, and offered it.

She peeked in, and would have taken a quick step away if she hadn't been standing with her back to the counter. Inside the ornate little box was a ring. Like the necklace Morgana had given her, it was silver, thin glistening wires woven into an intricate pattern around a center stone of delicate pink with a green rind rim.

"What is it?"

"It's also tourmaline," he told her. "What's called watermelon tourmaline, because of its colors." He took it out. Held it to the light. "Some say it can transfer energy between two people who are important to each other. On a practical level, which I'm sure will interest you, they're used in industry for electrical tuning circuits. They don't shatter at high frequencies like other crystals."

"That's interesting." Her throat was very dry. "But what's it for?"

Though it was not quite the way he might have liked it, it would have to do for now. "A wedding ring," he said, and put it into her hand.

"Excuse me?"

"We would hardly have been married five years without you having a ring."

"Oh." Surely she was just imagining that the ring was vibrating in her palm. "That makes sense. Sure. But why not a plain gold band?"

"Because I prefer this." With his first show of impatience, he plucked the ring out of her hand and shoved it on her finger.

"Okay, okay, don't get testy. It just seems like a lot of trouble when we could have gone by any department store and picked up—"

"Shut up."

She'd been busy playing with the ring as she spoke, but now she looked up, narrow-eyed. "Look, Donovan—"

"For once." He lifted her to her toes. "For once, do something my way without arguing, without questioning, without making me want to strangle you."

Her eyes heated. "I was stating my opinion. And if this is going to work, we'd better get one thing clear right now. There's no your way, there's no my way. There can only be our way."

Since no amount of searching helped him come up with an argument, he released her. "I have a remarkably even temper," he said, half to himself. "It very rarely flares, because power and temper are a dangerous mix."

Pouting a bit, she rubbed her arms where his fingers had dug in. "Yeah. Right."

"There's one rule, one unbreakable rule, that we live by in my world, Sutherland. 'An it harm none.' I take that very seriously. And for the first time in my life I've come across someone who tempts me to whip up a Spell that would have her suffering from all manner of unpleasant discomforts."

She sniffed and picked up her beer again. "You're all wind, Donovan. Your cousin told me you're lousy at spells."

"Oh, there are one or two I've had some luck with." He waited until she'd taken a good swallow of beer, then concentrated. Hard.

Mel choked, gasped and grabbed for her throat. It felt as though she'd just swallowed a slug of pure Kentucky moonshine.

"Particularly spells that involve the mind," Sebastian said smugly while she fought for breath.

"Cute. Real cute." Though the burning had faded, she set the beer aside. There was no point in taking chances. "I don't know what you're all bent out of shape about, Donovan. And I'd really appreciate it if you'd hold the tricks for Halloween, or April Fool's Day, or whenever you all break out for a few laughs."

"Laughs?" He said it much too quietly, taking a step forward. Mel took one to meet him, but whatever they might have done was postponed as the side door swung open.

"Oh." Anastasia, with her hair blowing into her eyes, held the door open with a hip as she balanced a tray of dried flowers. "Excuse me." She didn't need to go any closer to feel the tempers rattling like sabers in the air. "I'll come back later."

"Don't be silly." Sebastian nudged Mel aside—none too gently—and took the tray from his cousin. "Morgana's in the shop."

Hastily, Ana brushed her wayward hair away from her face. "I'll just go tell her I'm here. Nice to see you again, Mel." Ingrained manners had her offering a smile. Then her gaze fixed on the ring. "Oh. How beautiful. It looks like…" She hesitated, flicking a glance at Sebastian. "It looks like it was made for you."

"I'm just kind of borrowing it for a few weeks."

Ana looked at Mel again, and her eyes were kind. "I see. I doubt if I could bear to give something that wonderful back. May I?" Gently Ana took Mel's fingertips and lifted her hand. She recognized the stone as one Sebastian had owned and treasured most of his life. "Yes," she said. "It looks perfect on you."