Mercy Thompson 06 - River Marked

but Bran got in on it pretty early on.”
    She casually snagged a glass of punch off the table, and I snagged it out of her hands and put it back.
    “Not twenty-one yet,” I told her.
    “Next month,” she whined.
    I smirked at her. “You bet on my wedding. You don’t get any favors.” I straightened up. I had a sudden, delightful idea. “Wolves,” I said, and reinforced my call with a touch on the pack bonds I was only just getting the hang of. I didn’t have to speak loud, either. All over the church the wolves, all wearing their human faces, perked up and turned toward me. “My sister Ruthie isn’t twenty-one yet. No alcohol for her.” Then, in case she didn’t get it, I told her, “You go anywhere near that punch or any other alcohol today, my wolves are going to interfere.”
    Ruthie stamped her foot and looked at Nan. “You just wait. You bet, too. She’ll get back at you, and I’m going to be the one smirking.” She stalked off with an offended air while Nan and I watched.
    Nan shook her head. “Some poor man is going to end up with her.”
    I laughed. “He’ll never know what he’s gotten himself into. Curt still thinks our mother is a sweet thing who needs his protection, and he’s perfectly happy about it.” I remembered belatedly that I was supposed to be mad at her. I frowned. “Enough about Mom and Ruthie. You were going to tell me how you went from bet to surprise wedding.”
    “Well,” she said, “like I said, it is your fault. When she saw how stressed you were getting about it, Mom offered to do the whole thing for you.” She laughed at the look on my face. “I know. Terrifying thought, isn’t it? But you obviously weren’t going to enjoy planning it yourself, either.”
    She slanted a thoughtful look at Bran, who was talking animatedly with my stepfather. My stepfather was a dentist. Bran ruled werewolves. I didn’t want to know what they had in common to get that excited about.
    “So, anyway, we started egging you on,” Nan said, “just for fun—and the betting got just a little more serious. As soon as the money at stake got over twenty bucks, Mom’s competitive instincts overruled her motherly ones. The date Mom picked for your elopement was tomorrow. So she planned the butterfly-and-pigeon thing, but I guess about then she started feeling bad about robbing you of a real wedding. She decided to plan the wedding without you anyway. Which proves she must have a conscience, if a little underdeveloped. She enlisted Jesse as her woman on the ground and got this wedding together with her usual efficiency.” Nan took a big swallow of alcoholic punch, and her eyes watered.
    “I am so glad Todd and I eloped,” she said sincerely. “There was no way to salvage the wreckage. But I think that you deserved this, and I’m very happy for you.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Then she whispered, “He is really, really a hottie. How did you manage that?”
    “Brat,” I told her, and gave her a hug. “Todd’s not exactly chopped liver.”
    She smiled smugly and took another sip. “No, he’s not.”
    “He could be,” said Ben from behind me, his British accent giving him a civilized air that he didn’t deserve. “Do you want him to be chopped liver, darling?”
    I turned, making sure I was between Ben and Nan. “My sisters are off-limits,” I reminded him.
    A flash of hurt came and went on his face. With Ben, it was even odds whether the emotion was genuine or not—but my instincts told me it had been. So I continued in a mock-chiding tone, “Ruthie is too young for you, and Nan is married to a very nice man. So be good.”
    Nan had caught the flash of hurt, too, I thought. She was softer than our mother, more like her father in temperament as well as looks. She couldn’t stand to have anyone hurting and not do anything about it.
    She sighed dramatically. “All the pretty men, and I’m tied to just one.”
    Ben smiled at her. “Anytime you want to change that ...”
    I poked him in the side—he could have slipped out of the way, but he didn’t bother.
    “Okay,” he said, backing away with exaggerated fear. “I’ll be good, I promise. Just don’t hurt me again.”
    He was loud enough that all the people around us looked at us.
    Adam pushed his way through the pack and ruffled Ben’s hair as he went by him. “Behave, Ben.”
    The Ben I’d first met would have snarled and pulled away from the affectionate scold. This one grinned at me,