“I’ve been through a lot lately,” I told him, suddenly wanting to be near Drake. “I guess it all just kind of came together. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a wyvern to reassure.”

“You have a wyvern to wed,” a voice said behind me.

Drake smiled. Like the hand he held out to me, he was bloodied and filthy, his shirt dark red with blood from various slashes across his chest. Next to him stood Gabriel, less damaged but just as dirty.

“I think maybe we’re going to have to wait on the wedding idea. I don’t think I can mind-push Paula again without driving the poor woman insane, and it’s going to take her a long, long time to forgive me for the last attempt.”

“We will work that out later. Right now we have a wedding to attend.”

I looked at the destroyed mess of a chapel. “Uh…”

“I never told you what I did before I was made wyvern, did I?” Gabriel asked, his dimples dimpling like crazy. “I was ordained in several faiths, any one of which would allow me to marry you two.”

My laughter startled a nearby pigeon that had settled on a mound of debris. The bird flew into the air, flapped around us a few times, then resettled itself and watched with bright, interested eyes.

Drake raised his eyebrows. “Shall we?”

“Hell, yes! There’s no way I’m going to wait for another wedding.”

We found a relatively quiet corner, one that was momentarily empty of the emergency crews, police, and bystanders who milled around the remains of the chapel. There, covered in dirt, blood, and imp guts, perched as best we could on a pile of rubble and debris, with only Nora and Caribbean Battiste as witnesses, Drake and I were finally married.

“Congratulations,” Nora said a minute later when the quick ceremony was over, a delighted look on her face.

“Mazel tov,” said Caribbean Battiste, beaming.

Gabriel’s dimples flashed warmly.

It was Drake who wholly held my attention. His eyes were filled with love as he smiled down at me. “Happy now?”

“Yes. But I could be more happy,” I said, rubbing a smudge of dirt off his cheek, laughing at the surprised look that flashed in the depths of his emerald eyes. “The imp goo is starting to dry and is itching like crazy. Take me home, husband.”

“I can’t believe you got married without me!”

“I’ve apologized a dozen times already, Jim. I’m sorry I didn’t summon you so you could see us married, although to be honest, it took all of two minutes, and then the police descended on us, and Drake dragged me off to see my doctor.”

“I can’t believe you sealed the portal without me!”

“Yeah, well, Nora seems to think that means something, but you know, I think it’s all part of being a Guardian. And speaking of that, is it wrong, I wonder, to hope Chuan Ren is harassing the hell out of Bael?”

Jim lolled over on its back and presented a hairy belly to be rubbed. “I can’t believe you were covered in imp gore, and I missed it. Hey, what do you think of my package? Is it bigger than the old one? I think it is. I gotta remember to tell Cecile I got a new form, in case she notices the difference between this one and the last.”

I obligingly scratched Jim’s belly and purposely did not look at its nether parts. “I’m just glad you went with another Newfie. I don’t think I could have gotten used to you as any other dog.”

“Newfies rock,” it said, kicking its back legs when I hit a ticklish spot. “Hey, Drake. Hey, Uncle Damian.”

My uncle made a face at Jim as he entered the living room on Drake’s heels. “Does he…it…have to call me that?”

“Aww, I think it’s cute,” I said, grabbing my pillow and down comforter and scooting a few feet down the couch so Drake could sit next to me. He hauled me over his lap, tucking the blanket around my legs.

“How do you feel?” he asked, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“Fine. Better than fine, perfect. Which the doctor confirmed, so you can stop treating me like an invalid.”

A little tendril of smoke drifted out of one of his nostrils. I pursed my lips and blew a perfect heart-shaped ring of fire.

“You’ve been practicing,” he said, admiring it.

“That’s not the only thing I’ve been practicing,” I answered with a wicked wiggle of my eyebrows.

Passion, love, and interest all came to life in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be steamy jungle lovin’ time,” Jim said, rolling over.

“Out!” I told it, nibbling on Drake’s lower lip as I pointed over his shoulder to the door.

“Oh, man! I missed all the other good stuff—you can’t make me miss this, too!”

“Out!”

Jim grumbled all the way to the door. “Fine. Be that way. But I’m going to call Amelie and talk to Cecile, and you’d better not complain at all about the phone charges! When I think of what I went through for you…losing a perfectly good form, although I gotta admit, having a bigger package is going to rock…”

The door closed on the demon’s comments.

“I thought I’d check in before I left, but I see there is nothing to concern myself about,” Uncle Damian said, his voice gruff, but as near a smile as I’ve ever seen on his face. “I take it there is no word on that red wyvern?”

“No.” The light in Drake’s eyes dimmed a bit. “We don’t know for sure what has happened—the sept has called a conclave in Beijing. I’m assuming it’s to name a new wyvern, but we won’t know for certain until one of them contacts the weyr.”

Uncle Damian nodded. “That porn star—he’s gone to ground, too?”

“Ugh. Fiat,” I said, sliding my arms between Drake and the couch. “No one’s heard from him, although he’s apparently convinced almost half the blue sept that he is the rightful leader. Bastian is having a real struggle coping, but he seems confident that he’ll be able to pull them back together. And now that Drake has formally re-mated me, I don’t have to worry that Fiat will try to reclaim me.”

“Good,” Uncle Damian said.

“That leaves only Kostya as the remaining troublesome dragon, and he…” I glanced at Drake. “Well, despite everything, he’s going to go forward with his plan to gain an official spot at the weyr table.”