Spell Cat by Tara Lain Page 0,71
living room, into that most-loved face—the face that had launched the Witch Master. Blaine walked into the room with Aloysius on his shoulder. Killian shook his head. “I don’t think so…. Uh, I don’t know? Should I?”
Blaine walked around the couch to where Killian stood. Lavender scooted aside to make room for him. “Of course. Since you’re uniting witches and humans here, shouldn’t you show your support by marrying a human? I happen to be one, and I even have a ring.”
“But I’m a witch.”
“Yes.”
Sweet gods, Blaine believed him. “But you don’t want to marry a witch.”
“I want to marry you.”
“But the spell?”
“Fuck the spell.” He looked around at the gathered witches. “Please excuse me.” The green eyes came back to him. “I don’t care about spells. I care about you. Marry me.”
Love was the greatest power. Greater than any spell.
The room stilled. Killian bet they could hear his heart beating. He took a deep breath.
A little voice rose. One of the mixed-race witch children said, “Oh, c’mon, Witch Master. Say yes.”
Laughter erupted everywhere. He felt his own chest shaking, and Blaine reached up and wiped the wet from his cheeks. Oh, blessed gods, don’t take this away. Make it be true. He smiled. “Are you sure? I really am a witch, you know.”
Blaine laughed. “Hell, yes, I know. Even I couldn’t explain away today’s demonstration. But I’ll share with you my theories about the relationship of the quantum reality to witchcraft….”
Jimmy laughed. “Hey, I want to hear that. But first, don’t you have to get a reply?”
Blaine’s face softened. Al purred so loudly, the children nearby laughed. “Marry me, Killian. I love you. We’ll work out the details.”
“Yes, oh gods, yes. I love you so much.”
Lavender raised a glass. “Friends, on Saturday you’re also invited to the wedding of Killian Barth, Witch Master, and Blaine Genneau, professor of quantum physics. Human.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
He’d outdone himself. Killian smiled as he peeked into the room where the wedding would soon take place. In all his long, lonely life, the big formal living room had never looked this beautiful. The canopy required by the ritual of their witches’ faith sparkled with true images of clouds and stars. Brilliant red and pink roses lined the pathway to the canopy, and their scent filled the room. Candles gleamed on every surface and never burned shorter, because the magical flames burned cool.
He loved the venue, but he was most delighted by the guests. Pure witches and half- and quarter-humans mixed throughout the room. The mixing wasn’t completely intentional. It was tough to tell who was who. The pure witches could sense power and so accepted the person next to them as a witch. Yes, but maybe only a bit of a witch.
Behind him, the dining room looked equally beautiful. Crystal and silver gleamed. A few little witches had already explored some of the cakes and candies on the side table, so he’d repaired a handprint or two. He thought the circling doves—poopless, of course—were a nice touch. This was the kind of power he enjoyed. Not raining down fire and bringing the lightning. He shuddered.
An arm slipped through his. “Hi, my friend.”
Lavender looked gorgeous. “Love the dress.” The gown swept the floor, its glorious, deep purple color reflecting off the diamond circlet Lavender wore on her forehead to hold her veil in place.
She beamed. “You look pretty gorgeous yourself.” He’d chosen white—a plain white tuxedo with the soft glow of silk. It was a human gesture, but he thought it appropriate somehow. To many humans, white signified purity. He certainly wasn’t pure, but his love was. His soul was a virgin, and he felt brand-new. He brushed his mane of hair off his shoulders. He hoped a certain professor would like it.
Lavender looked around at people still rushing in to find a seat in the big room. “Let’s step back, so no one sees us before we enter.”
He pulled her into an alcove that held the telephone—a relic of pre-cell-phone days. “How are you?”
“Ecstatic, thank you. And thanks to you.”
He shook his head. “Hardly. Today is as much your doing as mine.”
“We’ll accept the blame together.” She laughed.
“How’s your father?”
“Don’t worry. He’s going to recover nicely. More or less.” She grinned.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing to worry about at all. I’ll tell you all the details later.”
“So you get to marry the man you love.”
“Yes. And so do you.”
Gods, his heart wouldn’t stay in his chest. “Yes.” He knew his smile was as big as a searchlight.