Lupi 08 - Death Magic

audience entirely, he played with her fingers. Especially the one with his ring on it. For a man who’d spent several decades morally opposed to marriage and all forms of sexual possessiveness, he sure was fascinated by that shiny token of his claim on her.
    Maybe she should have gotten him an engagement ring, too.
    “Something funny?” he asked.
    “I was picturing your left hand with a diamond on the third finger.”
    He blinked. Went still. Then nodded. “That’s a good idea. I wonder why it didn’t occur to me that I needed an engagement ring.”
    He wasn’t kidding. He honest-to-God meant it. She leaned in and kissed him lightly. “I love you, you know.”
    “I like hearing it.” He switched his attention from her hand to her hair, running his fingers through it. “Shall we pick something out together?”
    “Your engagement ring, you mean.”
    “We may have to go with something custom.”
    “Um . . . yeah, we might.” Unless . . . “We might find something in San Francisco. Or in Massachusetts.” Did gay guys buy each other engagement rings? Why didn’t she know? The only XY married couple she knew personally had tied the knot in a big hurry, afraid their official permission to marry wouldn’t last. They’d been right.
    Rule smiled, following her thinking easily. “Perhaps I could ask Jasper.”
    “Jasper?”
    “Your cousin Freddie’s good friend. They recently moved in together.”
    “Oh, that Jasper.” Lily’s cousin Freddie—third cousin, really, but still a cousin—had started working for Rule last month. He was handling some of Leidolf’s investments, which took a big load off Rule. Lily had mixed feelings about this. Freddie was indefatigably honest and good at what he did—at least Lily’s father thought so, and he ought to know. But she’d built up a good head of Freddie-aversion over the years because he would not stop assuming that she was going to marry him. “I’ve only met Jasper a couple times. I didn’t realize he was . . .” She sat straight up. “Wait a minute. You don’t mean that Freddie—”
    “You didn’t know?”
    “Freddie’s gay?” Her voice rose in outrage. “He asked me to marry him a dozen times. Not because he wanted to, mind, but his mother wanted . . . so did mine. Are you telling me he’s gay?”
    Rule shrugged. “Define it how you like. He and Jasper—”
    “Just because Jasper’s gay doesn’t mean Freddie is.” Because it would really piss her off if Freddie had done his damnedest to marry her without mentioning that he preferred sexual partners who were outies instead of innies. “You can’t be sure.”
    “I can’t help but know when someone finds me attractive. Freddie might be bi rather than gay, but yes, I’m sure he finds men sexually appealing.”
    He smelled it. That’s what he meant, and she’d known he could smell female arousal. She’d never thought about him smelling male arousal, too. Sidetracked, she asked, “Is that ever a problem for you? Knowing some guy is getting excited looking at you?”
    “Why? I’ve never understood why human men get flustered or angry about that sort of thing. How is it offensive to be found attractive, even if you aren’t able to return the compliment?”
    “Hierarchy.” Lily said that automatically, stopped to think about it, and decided it made sense. “That’s part of it, maybe a big part. For a few centuries heterosexual males—white heterosexual males in particular, here in the West—have been at the top of the pecking order. Getting hit on by another guy would feel like an insult because someone was doubting your qualifications to be top dog.”
    “Ah. You’re wise. Yes, that fits. What high-status group wants to give up their privileged position? It would explain the hysterical tenor of some of the anti-gay-marriage groups.”
    She snorted. “Fear and bigotry don’t need explaining. They simply are, like traffic jams and taxes.”
    “That’s one way of seeing it.” He wound the bit of hair he’d been playing with around his finger. “Are you going to forgive your cousin?”
    “Eventually. I may have to hit him first.”
    “Don’t hit hard. He’s doing a good job with Leidolf’s finances.”
    “I’ll bear that in mind. You were sure burning midnight oil for a while. If Nokolai hadn’t been able to . . .” Her voice drifted off. He’d given the back of Scott’s head a pointed glance. “Right.” Two mantles, two clans, two sets of guards. Scott