“Man. Christmas is coming. We could work with that.”

“Too soon.” Malory shook her head. “We have—hopefully—the holiday rush at Indulgence to deal with. And I haven’t picked out my dress yet. Then there’s the flowers, the venue, the theme, the—”

“That should only take three or four years, once you get started. Great potatoes,” Flynn said to Rowena.

“Thank you.”

“It certainly won’t take three or four years. I’m a very organized, goal-oriented woman. Just because I want a big wedding and I want it perfect doesn’t mean I can’t pull it together in a reasonable amount of time. You can forget stalling, Hennessy.”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“What?”

There was something wonderful about watching her big blue eyes go blank. “February fourteenth.” Inspired now, he grabbed her hand, kissed it. “Marry me, Malory. Be my valentine.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Jordan grumbled under his breath and got a sharp elbow in the ribs from Dana.

“Valentine’s Day.” Everything inside Malory melted. “Oh, that’s so perfect. That’s so beautiful. Yes!” She scooted around in her chair to throw her arms around his neck. “And you’ll never have any excuse to forget our anniversary.”

“Always a catch.”

“Okay, big guy.” Dana used her elbow again. “Batter up.”

“What’s wrong with what he said? Except for the gooey parts.”

“Yes!” Malory erupted again, face glowing. “Let’s do it together. All of us. A triple wedding on Valentine’s Day. It’s perfect. It’s . . . right.”

“Works for me.” Brad looked at Zoe. “What do you say?”

“I say it makes a lovely circle.”

“Do I have to wear a suit?” Simon demanded.

“Yes,” his mother said definitively.

“Figures.” He grumbled it as wedding plans flew around the table.

WHEN the meal was finished, they gathered in the room where the portrait of the daughters looked down on them. The fire burned in the hearth, red and gold flames. A hundred candles glowed with light.

“I’m nervous,” Zoe whispered and groped for Brad’s hand. “Kind of silly to be nervous now.”

He brought her hand to his lips. “All in a day’s work for you, champ.”

She laughed, but her stomach did a quick flip when Pitte lifted the Box of Souls.

“An artist, a scholar, a warrior.” He set the box on its pedestal while the blue lights inside pulsed. “Inside and out, mirror and echo. Through their hearts, their minds, their valor, the last lock can be opened.”

He stepped to the side, a soldier, while Rowena moved to her place to flank the box. “Please,” she said to Zoe, “send them home.”

Her stomach calmed, and her heart beat steady as she crossed the room. She felt the shape of the key in her hand, and its warmth as she looked at the final lock. And the lights that fluttered inside the glass like wings.

She took one long breath, held it, then slid the key into the lock and turned it.

Heat spread along her fingers. Light burst, white and pure and bright. With wonder, she watched the lid of the box fly open, saw the glass seem to explode without sound and send crystals spiraling into the air.

The three blue lights soared free, spinning, spinning into a circle linked by the blur like the tail of a comet. The air sparkled, white and blue.

Dazed, she heard Simon shout out, “Hey, cool!” and reached up, fascinated, to touch one of those whirling lights.

For an instant, it lay in her palm. The beauty of it, the joy of it rushed into her with such force, such intimacy, she was staggered.

She stared, dumbfounded, as she saw both Malory and Dana standing as she was, hands outstretched, each with a pulsing blue light cupped in her palm.

We’ve touched souls, she realized.

Then the lights seemed to leap, rushing in a kind of joyful madness from hand to hand, spinning flirtatiously around the men, playfully around a laughing Simon, over the heads of the dogs, before they shot to Rowena and Pitte to hover where they’d both gone reverently to their knees.

“It’s so beautiful.” Malory gripped Zoe’s hand, reached for Dana’s. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

Once more, the three lights rose in a perfect circle, then separated and arrowed toward the portrait. And into it.

The painting shimmered, its already rich colors deepened. Zoe swore, that for just a moment, she heard three hearts begin to beat once more.

Then all was still.

“They are free.” Rowena’s voice trembled with tears. “They are home.”

She moved to the three women. “This is a debt that can never be paid. What we give you is a token only.” She stepped closer to kiss each of them on the cheek in turn. “Please, sit. I know you have much to do for tomorrow, but we still have one or two things to discuss.”

“I’m not sure I can talk sensibly right now.” Zoe pressed her hands to her mouth and stared at the portrait. “Or ever again.”

“Champagne.” Rowena threw back her head and laughed. “We’ll have champagne to celebrate this great day. To celebrate our joy, and your fortune.”

She spun away to fetch the flutes Pitte was already pouring. “Thanksgiving.” Her face glowed as she handed out the glasses. “Oh, it’s such a day for it. Life finds its way, doesn’t it? And you have found yours.”

“We’ll get the business out of the way,” Pitte began. “The funds will be transferred to your accounts immediately, as agreed.”

“No.” Dana sat down, sipped her champagne, and caught Zoe’s smirk out of the corner of her eye as Pitte blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you want more?” In a gesture of acceptance, Rowena lifted a hand. “Don’t tell me a bargain is a bargain,” she said before Pitte could speak. “If they want more than the agreed-upon amount, they’ll have more.”

“No,” Dana said again. “We don’t want more. We don’t want any.” She jabbed a finger in the air toward Brad. “Mr. Business?”

“The parties waive payment,” Brad began. Enjoying himself, loving these women. “After discussing the contractual terms, an agreement was reached, unanimously, to refuse any further monetary remuneration.”