Only Human

people knotted up at the other end of the terrace. "I wish we could walk on the beach together." Or run. He yearned to feel the sand beneath the pads of his paws while air screamed through his lungs as his muscles flexed and flung him along.
    "Another time," she said softly, and when he looked at her he thought he glimpsed a shadow of his own longing... which, of course, was ridiculous. She had only the one form. "We may as well get this over with," she added more dryly, and nodded at the crowd at the end of the terrace.
    They were halfway there when Rule stopped.
    "What is it?"
    Frankincense. His nostrils pinched in a useless effort to close out the toxin. Already he could feel his sense of smell closing down. "Do you truly not know?" he snapped.
    "I wouldn't have asked if I did."
    The smoky stench came from the knot of people directly in front of them. He shook his head, wanting to leave. "Never mind. As you said, let's get this over with."
    He might as well. The damage had been done.

Chapter 7
    LILY TAPPED ONE man on the shoulder and some of the others moved aside, revealing a tall chair with a carved wooden back. A velvet throw was draped across the seat and arms of the chair. A very small woman sat on that throw. She wore a long gown in Chinese red buttoned to the base of her skinny throat. A padded stool supported feet no larger than a child's, and a small brazier rested beside the footstool. It reeked of frankincense.
    The woman taking up so little space in the thronelike chair didn't look eighty. Her black hair was liberally streaked with white and pulled into an unforgiving knot on top of her head. Her skin was very pale, her eyes very dark.
    Had Rule been in wolf form, his hackles would have lifted.
    Power. It radiated from that tiny, erect figure. Rule couldn't smell the magic on her, but he sure as hell sensed it.
    "Grandmother." Lily dropped his hand to move forward. She bent to brush a kiss on one thin cheek. "Happy birthday."
    "You are late. How could I enjoy my celebration without my favorite granddaughter?"
    Lily smiled. "Last week Liu was your favorite granddaughter."
    "Ah! You are right. Liu is never impertinent. She must be my favorite."
    Two pairs of eyes met—both black, one wrapped in wrinkles, one surrounded by smooth young skin—in complete and affectionate understanding. The old woman patted her granddaughter's cheek. "I like you anyway," she announced. "What have you brought me?"
    Lily handed her the prettily wrapped box. She opened it with hands that showed her age more than her face did, though the nails were long and painted screaming red. "Ah!" Her smile was as delighted as a child's. "A graceful piece, and the jade is good quality. It will go in my collection." She handed the little statue of a cat to a middle-aged woman who sat beside her, addressing her in Chinese, then turned back to Lily. "I am pleased. You may introduce your escort now."
    Lily rose and moved to one side. "Zhu Mu, this is Rule Turner, prince of the Nokolai. Rule, I am honored to present to you my grandmother, Madame Bai He Tsang."
    Rule knew an audience when he was granted one. He stepped forward, clamping down on the anger. "Madame Tsang, I am honored."
    Keen black eyes took a head-to-toe journey over him. "So you're the lupus my granddaughter chose to bring to my party. You're terribly pretty."
    "Thank you."
    "It wasn't a compliment."
    "I know," he said gently, as one might to a child who flaunted her poor manners.
    Unexpectedly she chuckled, and he glimpsed Lily in the amusement in her eyes. "You have style, I'll give you that. Much more durable than mere prettiness. More entertaining, too. That doesn't mean I approve of my granddaughter allying herself with you."
    "Respectfully, Zhu Mu," Lily said, "one date is a very temporary alliance. And entirely my own choice."
    "I wasn't speaking to you." The old woman glanced back at Rule. "I don't like the way you treat your women."
    "You know nothing about how I treat my women." He couldn't smell a damned thing. Anger curled in him, stretching, trying to reach past his control.
    "You are lupus. This means you treat them in the plural, I
    know that much. You wish to keep them ... what is the saying? Barefoot and pregnant." Her thin lips curved in a feline smile. "I hope the smoke from the incense isn't bothering you. Some people don't care for the scent."
    "I can't say I notice the smell." Not anymore.
    Lily glanced from the brazier to her grandmother. Her eyebrows