Free Only Human by Eileen Wilks

society, for heaven's sake. They were more chauvinistic than her father. They didn't even believe in monogamy. Well, she would make it clear to Rule that while they were involved, he would have to bow to her beliefs on this one issue. No other women. For however long it lasted. Oh, God. She rubbed her stomach, where nerves were jumping. No matter how sensible she tried to be, she wouldn't walk away from this unscorched.
    And she didn't care. Not really.
    Rule would be honest with her, she thought as she spoke
    with her aunt Caroline, who was a grandmother twice over now and smug about it. He would tell her if he couldn't promise even a temporary fidelity.
    It wasn't as if she were going into this blind, she assured herself as her cousin Lynn complained about the man she'd been dating, her mother, and her job. Her father had taken Rule to meet someone—Larry Hong, she thought. The only one of her cousins with a career even less respectable than her own. He was a mostly unemployed actor.
    Lots of women had affairs with men they didn't intend to marry. Lots of women had affairs with Rule Turner, to be specific. She was making too big a deal of this.
    Then she saw Rule making his way to her and her throat went slick with need. The lights were suddenly brighter, the edges crisper, and the colors brighter. She wanted to skip or sing. Or maybe hide in a closet.
    No, she wasn't making too big a deal out of this. It was big—huge, scary big.
    "Would you mind if we left now?" he said when he joined her. "I've an early appointment in the morning:"
    "No," she said through a too-tight throat. "I wouldn't mind."
    They took their leave of Grandmother, who was still out on the terrace. The old woman was thoroughly enjoying her party and pleased with herself over something—maybe the way she'd tricked Rule. It was hard to say with Grandmother. Lily intended to have a talk with her soon.
    "Is she really eighty?" Rule asked as they waited in the small vestibule for his car to be brought around.
    "As far as I know. With Grandmother, very little is certain. I really am sorry about what she did. Have the effects worn off at all?"
    "Not yet. What she did wasn't necessary, but I understand why she did it."
    She doubted that. "I really need to talk to her. You may have guessed that some of the information I have about lupi came from her. Obviously she didn't tell me everything she knew. She didn't mention frankincense."
    The valet returned and handed Rule his keys in exchange for a few bills. "Frankincense does affect lupi," he said, open-
    ing the heavy door. "But I couldn't have sniffed out what type of magic she uses."
    "You said something about that before—that magic doesn't have a smell, except when it's active. Is that true for innate magic, too?"
    "What do you mean?" He held the door for her.
    “Well, the sort of thing you do isn't a spell. It's innate. Does—"
    Flashes—blinding, leaving purple ghosts swimming in her vision. A swarming, shoving crowd of people. Questions shouted. A microphone jammed near her face.
    "How long have you been dating?"
    "Does Shannon Snow know about your new—"
    "Prince, what do you think about the killings?"
    "—lupi really superior lovers?"
    "When the chief told you to work with the werewolf prince, did he know you two were—"
    "Detective Yu, how do you explain your relationship with a suspect?"
    Rule recovered faster than she did. He slid an arm around her waist and started forward, smiling easily. "You've taken us by surprise, I'm afraid. I don't have a statement at this time."
    Maybe it was the way Rule moved, the assurance that others would remove themselves from his path. Or maybe even reporters were wary of crowding a lupus too closely. For whatever reason, he was able to clear a path, though the reporters still swarmed close, questions popping like sniper fire.
    "No comment," Lily said. And, "Mr. Turner isn't a suspect." Then, finally, they were in Rule's car, the doors closed on the avid faces,