"Uh-huh," I muttered. I was about to refuse, but the twins folded me away before I could get the words out.

It wasn't a fight—it was a brawl, with most of the bar involved. Even the bartender was wading into the fray as I stood in the doorway of a square building, fashioned of finely sanded wood, with a carefully crafted stone floor beneath our feet. Gouges were cut into the wood wherever a bare space of wall showed—there'd been plenty of fighting with blades inside this bar.

They serve the best noodles here, Drew sent as a body was tossed in our direction. The body in question rose from the floor and tottered back to the battle. Blades and fists were flying throughout the bar, and the entire room was a seething mass of conflict. I'm not sure if the combatants even knew who was friend and who was foe, they merely concentrated on fighting.

You're watching this and thinking about noodles? I sent. I'm sure my incredulity was sent with my words—I was shaking my head at what was going on all around us.

They're really good noodles, Drake weighed in on the mental conversation. Mom and Aunt Gracie like to come here and eat with Dad and Uncle Crane.

And I suppose the fights break out then, too? I questioned Drake.

Yeah. Mom and Aunt Gracie have tossed a few punches and crossed blades a time or two. Dad and Uncle Crane trained them, so they can hold their own. Drake was mentally laughing at me. I shouldn't have been surprised—both women were Saa Thalarr and fought the Ra'Ak. They were warriors, just as the men were.

So, you want noodles, then? I blinked up at Drake's face. His eyes, like his father's were nearly black. I liked them.

We both want noodles. But we can't get any until this is over; Drew nodded toward the continuing battle.

Fine, I sent, and waded into the nearest conflict.

When I was done, a pile of bodies, most unconscious, lay against the far wall of the bar. A neat row of blades were sunk into the thick wood of the bar, most to the hilt. A small crowd of others—those still able to stand, were backed against a wall near the door, nursing split lips, cracked ribs, black eyes and multiple bruises. Drake and Drew were still standing next to the front door, trying very hard not to laugh. The whole thing, start to finish, took maybe ten minutes.

"Can we get noodles, now?" I almost split the bar with my fist as I pounded the scarred wood. The bartender, who was mostly whole and standing behind the bar again, offered me a grin and began preparing noodles.

* * *

"Those really were good noodles," I said as Drake folded us to the villa's kitchen after we'd eaten. The rice wine was good, too—I'd had several cups of that. As a result, I was feeling a bit tipsy.

"Aunt Lissa, thank goodness," Kyler and Cleo greeted me as the twins and I dropped into the kitchen. A man I didn't recognize sat at the island, staring at me.

"Is something wrong?" I handed a worried frown to Kyler.

"Baby, you're covered in blood—not yours," Drake snickered beside me. Only then did I survey the damage to my expensive clothing; the blouse and trousers were ruined.

"She just cleared Turtle's bar on Falchan," Drew chuckled beside me.

"Lissa, we brought Shadow," Cleo was also surveying the clothing disaster. "Are you sure you aren't hurt? I can check you over," she offered.

"She's not hurt—I don't think anybody got a hand on her," Drake said, sounding proud. "Our baby went right in and took care of business."

"Cleo?" A whispered voice came, and I turned swiftly to the male Kyler and Cleo brought with them. "Cleo, I can't get up."

"Just as expected," Kyler muttered cryptically. I watched as Cleo went to the man and put her hands on him. He was handsome, with dark hair, gray eyes and a sensuous mouth.

"Aunt Lissa, this is Shadow Grey, a Master Wizard of Grey House," Kyler took my hand. "I'll take care of the blood," she added. She wasn't kidding about duplicating the Larentii power; the blood and every tiny rip in my clothing disappeared, magically repaired by my niece.

"Wow, remind me to come to you the next time I pull one of my sweaters," I gazed down at my restored outfit.

"He's good to go, now," Cleo announced, and Shadow stood up beside her. What came next shocked the hell out of me. Shadow walked straight toward me, took my face in his hands and kissed me.

* * *

"Aunt Lissa, it's the way M'Fiyahs work," Kyler attempted to calm me. Drake and Drew were working on it as well. "If you remove a M'Fiyah, it can harm both parties."

"Baby, they're not so bad," Drew pulled me against him. "We, ah, bro and I, well," he didn't finish.

"They have them, too," Cleo sighed, nodding toward Drake and Drew. Shadow Grey was sleeping a healing sleep somewhere at the villa—he'd collapsed when I backed away from him after he'd kissed me. Cleo placed the sleep quickly, and she and Kyler moved him to a bed. I was shaking over the incident.

"What am I supposed to do?" I was right back where I'd been before the twins hauled me away to Falchan.

"Baby, we'll go slow, we promise," Drew murmured. "It doesn't have to happen overnight."

I wasn't sure whether it was going to happen at all. I didn't say that, though. What was I supposed to do? Damage all of them, because I wasn't feeling up to anything at the moment? Gavin's empty memory and defection hurt. Winkler's death hurt. Franklin, Greg, Tony—it all hurt.

"Lissa, the monthly family dinner at Grey House is in four days. Why don't you come for that?" Cleo suggested. "Maybe you can get to know Shadow better—before you make a rash decision. Removing a M'Fiyah is for life, and the consequences can affect more than you might think."

I stared at my hands for a moment before lifting my eyes to Drew's. He smiled at me as I gazed into those dark depths. "What do you think about Shadow Grey?" I asked him.

"He's a Master Wizard," Drew nuzzled my temple before placing a gentle kiss. "They don't hand that status out to just anybody."

"No, hon, that's not what I meant," I sighed.

"We don't feel jealousy. Can't," Drake nuzzled my other temple. I sat between the twins, in a media room inside the massive villa. "Besides, we like Shadow," Drake went on. "He's in our age group, and achieving Master Wizard status before five hundred is unusual. You have to be very powerful and talented to do it."

"What am I supposed to do?" I tossed a hand helplessly. "I mean, I can think of plenty of people in my past who'd fall in the floor with apoplexy if somebody mentioned multiple mates to them. Didn't seem to matter that human history is filled with multiple wives, or even husbands, in some cases. In their opinion, if a woman goes after more than one man, she's a slut, a trollop and a whore."

"Well," Drew drawled beside me, "the laws are different now, and most of those people are dead. You win."

"Honey, I think I love you," I touched his cheek.

"I know I love you," he said, and kissed my fingers.

* * *

"Aunt Lissa, trust me. I'll place the sleep and you'll feel better in the morning," Cleo promised. "The villa and all of Merrill, Adam and Wlodek's property is warded. Nobody will need your help while you sleep. You're completely safe, here."

I still wasn't sure, but Cleo sounded convincing. Drake and Drew were gone—they'd offered to get Shadow Grey back to Grey House. Master Wizards were busy people, I learned, and their work was highly sought by, well, everybody. Everybody who could afford it, that is. Drake and Drew explained that Cleo's Master Wizard mate, Harvel, made their blades, and they'd cost in the millions. They were spelled against nicks, rust and breaking, and nobody except the owners could pick them up and use them. If anyone else tried, they'd trigger a spell and die. That was freaky, to the eighth power.

"Fine," I grumped. Cleo and Kyler had chased me around my borrowed suite, ordering me into pajamas and waiting patiently while I brushed my teeth.

"Get in bed," Cleo said. "This will be the best sleep you've ever had," she promised.

Dutifully I crawled into bed, and Cleo placed fingers against my forehead. Just like that, I was out.

* * *

"She doesn't trust anybody," Cleo sighed.

"Yeah. I know," Kyler agreed. "I got mindspeech from Flavio, asking me why the hell I didn't warn him sooner. I had to tell him that Em-pah didn't want it."

"I don't know what I would do, if Harvel or Rhett didn't remember me," Cleo said. "That would break my heart."

"Lissa's was broken, long ago," Kyler said. "That's why she doesn't trust anybody now."

"Gram Amara cried after we went shopping the other day," Cleo nodded. "She says Lissa might not ever consider her and Em-pah as parents."

"At least Mom loved me, and Em-pah loved me when I was little," Kyler said. "And your adoptive parents loved you. A lot."

"I know Em-pah had his reasons for splitting us up, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with now," Cleo observed. "And neither of us had to live with what Aunt Lissa did, when we were little. She must look like her mother," Cleo added. "I don't see much of Em-pah there at all."

"I wonder if Em-pah will ever learn who his father was," Kyler sighed. "He said his mother refused to tell him, and there's a wall of power surrounding the information. He can't get to it."

"It bothers him, but we may never know who our great-grandfather was," Cleo agreed. "Em-pah says he didn't ever Look to see who Lissa's Elemaiya grandmother was. He says the wars between Bright and Dark have almost destroyed the race, and she may be dead anyway. Is Flavio still mad?"

"He asked me to spend the night with him, so I guess not," Kyler hid a smile.

"Yeah, he's not pretty or anything," Cleo snickered, bumping her shoulder against her twin's.