I understood his lament.
Valentine did very much like to cause a drama.
But I heard this at the same time I heard on the other side of me, Circe’s wondrous, whispered, “Oh my God. Pop.”
And then I saw an older man who’d formed from a rise of green mist move out of a pew toward Noc and Circe, who had just made it to the middle of the long aisle.
“If you don’t mind, son,” he said to Noc, his eyes never leaving Circe, “I’ll take it from here.”
“Who’s that man?” Jo whispered to me.
“My dad,” Circe whispered to Jo.
Both Josette and I cut our gazes to Queen Circe who was openly weeping.
And hugely smiling.
We looked back to Circe as Noc took one look at the bride, dipped his chin and stepped aside.
The man I would eventually know as Harold Quinn walked his other-world daughter to her groom, grinning like a lunatic, his eyes filled with pride as they rested on both the daughter he claimed and the daughter he made before he guided the bride to the man she loved.
Noc moved to stand by Lahn and Tor.
But before I turned to the couple to watch them wed, I caught sight of her standing in the shadows at the back.
She was wearing a fabulous dress of jade green.
Love is everything. I heard Valentine’s voice whisper in my ear. Every way love can be.
And then, a cat’s smile flirting at her lips, she faded away in a beautiful drift of jewel-green smoke.
* * * * *
New Orleans
Noc
“I say, I’ve kept you up long enough. It’s time for me to find my bed…and my wife, and you yours,” Kristian stated.
Noc, sitting outside with his brother-in-law, having a whiskey while Kristian enjoyed a cigar, nodded.
It was definitely time.
He liked the man but he liked his wife better.
They rose from their padded chairs and lifted their chins at each other as Kristian moved through the courtyard toward the carriage house at the other side where Franka had created a guest suite.
Noc left the bottle and glasses where they were on the table between the two chairs and walked into the house.
He went through it, knowing the doors were locked, the windows closed and latched.
He checked them all just the same. There were precious beings sleeping under his roof, a number of them, and it was the man he was that he’d make sure they were safe.
At the top of the stairs, looking up and down the hall, he saw no light coming from under the door to the master suite, or any of the others.
Except a dim light coming from under one in the middle of the hall, a door that led to a room that was painted pink.
He felt the grin hit his mouth but his body jerked when a different door, the one right beside him, opened.
Noc’s father blinked sleepily at his son then grunted, “Damned bladder.”
And then his dad lifted his hand, patted Noc’s shoulder, and walked the opposite way, toward the bathroom.
Noc walked toward the light.
He put his hand on the handle and turned it, opening the door a crack, doing it silently.
He stopped it at just a crack when he heard his daughter speak.
“Really, Momma?” Amara was asking in her little girl voice.
“Really, my sweetest love,” Frannie replied.
“Daddy did that?”
“Yes, my darling, your father did that. He did that and more. So much more.”
There was a beat of silence before Amara declared sleepily, “Mm, I believe it. Daddy’s so sweet.”
Noc grinned again.
“He is that, beautiful Amara Judith,” Frannie agreed. “He’s also something else.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s my valiant.”
Noc’s body locked.
“What does that mean?” their daughter asked.
“That means, precious girl, your daddy is my hero.”
Noc closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the doorjamb.
“He’s mine too,” Amara declared.
Noc’s throat closed.
“I know, baby,” Frannie cooed. “Now it’s very late. I’ve told you your story. It’s time for you to go to sleep.”
His daughter’s sounded dreamy as she shared, “I can’t wait to find my valiant.”
Frannie’s tone was crisper when she returned, “We’ll talk about that in thirty years.”
Amara’s voice was higher when she asked, “Thirty?”
“Go to sleep, darling.”
“I’m not gonna be thirty-six when I get married.”
“Amara, my love, sleep.”
“All right.” Noc heard his girl mumble.
At that, Noc moved from the door, down the hall and into his and Frannie’s room.
He went straight to the window.
He didn’t pull the curtains closed.
He stood looking down at their quiet courtyard with its riot of flowers, all of it lit by moonlight.
He heard her enter behind him.
“Has Kristian finished his cigar?” she asked his back.
“Yep,” he answered the window.
“Foul things,” she murmured and the door clicked.
Noc stared at the courtyard.
Frannie came right to him, circling him with her arms and fitting herself to his back.
“I love having the house filled with family,” she whispered.
She was talking about Dad and Sue, Kristian and Brikitta and their three boys visiting.
She was also talking about their own five kids.
Four boys.
One girl.
Amara right smack in the middle.
“Noc,” she said softly, “is everything all right?”
He looked from the courtyard to her hands at his stomach, her diamond blinking faintly in the moonlight. He felt her breasts pressed to his back, the belly she’d nurtured his five children in tucked to his ass.