Night Season
make sure she gets to see him often."
    "But Toby's grandma doesn't have legal custody, does she?"
    "Toby's grandmother," Lily said tartly, "has raised him. His mother sure hasn't. Alicia visits on the occasional weekend, but even that's dried up now that she's in Lebanon. She's huffing and puffing and dragging her feet, but for the first time Rule has a good chance of winning if she does contest the suit. We're hoping she won't. It'll be easier on Toby if we can come to an agreement."
    For years Rule had had no legal rights to his son. Toby's grandmother had allowed the boy to visit his father, but his mother—a reporter for the Associated Press—hadn't even put Rule's name on the birth certificate.
    Rule had never taken the matter to court. The son of the best-known werewolf in the world would have been irresistible to the paparazzi. Besides, Rule had been certain he'd lose. The courts weren't exactly friendly to lupi.
    Until a few years ago, some states had allowed people to shoot them on sight. Most lupi had actually preferred that to the federal government's policy—forced registration and drugs that prevented them from Changing.
    But those were the bad old days. A few years ago the Supreme Court had ruled that lupi were citizens. As such, they were entitled to all the rights and protections of the law… when they were shaped like humans, that is. It was still legal to shoot one in wolf form.
    After a few moments Cynna sighed. "I've been an ass, haven't I? So busy doing the poor-me bit I didn't have a clue what was happening in anyone else's life."
    Lily gave her a smile. "It's okay to play turtle for a while, as long as you don't get too fond of your shell. You're out of it now. How much of your money do I get to spend today?"
    "Oh, a couple hundred. I usually buy myself a Christmas present, but this time I never got around to it, what with the demons and all."
    "Triple it."
    "What? I'm not going to—"
    "You said you wanted a new work wardrobe. Unless you've changed your mind? For example, you might have some reason to think your size could suddenly change—"
    Cynna made a beeping sound.
    "What?"
    "That's the allusion alert."
    Lily slid her an amused glance. "We'll start with the basics. Two good jackets—"
    "I have jackets."
    "Sure, and they might work if you were eighty pounds heavier. And eighty years old. And not interested in fashion. You look great in jeans, but the suits you pick…" She shook her head. "Is that what you think an FBI agent is supposed to look like?"
    "All right, all right—but I look like crap in suits. I'm not built like you. I can't wear those teeny little fitted jackets."
    "You can wear clothes that fit, though. As for how you're built…" Lily snorted. "You don't like looking like Xena, Warrior Princess? You're tired of wiping the drool off men's faces?"
    "Well, but—"
    "You've got a goddess's body, Cynna. Not the Maiden, but the Mother or some fertility deity."
    Cynna gave her a dark look. She did not care for fertility deity references.
    "Add in the butch haircut and tattoos, and I'm thinking we need to go for simple but dramatic. Whatever we get will probably have to be tailored, but—"
    "Tailored?" Cynna squeaked.
    "Most likely. We'll start with two jackets, like I said, and four pairs of slacks to mix and match. You could add a skirt, but I've never seen you wear one, so I thought we'd stay in your comfort zone and go with slacks."
    "You've got a weird notion of my comfort zone."
    "And of course you'll need things to wear under the jackets. Tees, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater or—"
    "There's a Wal-Mart about a mile from here."
    "You didn't buy those jeans at Wal-Mart. They're killer."
    "Thanks. But jeans aren't like suits. They have to fit exactly right, and most of them aren't long enough, so… quit looking at me that way."
    "Uh-huh. How much did you pay for the jeans?"
    Too much. "Sales. There are bound to be sales."

CHAPTER TWO
    THE Fashion Center turned out to be a

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