Allie smiled at the thought, and nodded. “It does seem idyllic, and I’d like to be able to make a home here for Liam. I think he’d love it. He certainly seems to enjoy having friends. But I gather it depends on whether they catch Abaddon.”

“Abaddon,” Elvi sighed the name. “We thought Leonius was bad until we found out Abaddon was his puppet master.” She shook her head. “I guess we’ll have to hope they catch him.”

“Yeah,” Mabel muttered, and then turned to peer at Allie and asked point-blank, “So are you going to agree to be Magnus’s life mate or not?”

“Mabel,” Elvi said with dismay.

“Oh, don’t try to say you aren’t wondering too,” Mabel said with exasperation. “The suspense is killing me.”

Allie smiled wryly at the women, not terribly surprised they knew about that. Rather than answer, she said, “Well, you can read my mind. What do you think?”

“That’s the problem,” Mabel admitted. “Your mind’s all confused on the subject. One minute you’re thinking yes, the next you’re shying away from it. Tell us what you’re afraid of and maybe we can help.”

Allie’s smile faded at the words. “I— It would be— Really, I don’t think I have a choice. I don’t want to lose Liam.”

“Oh, honey,” Mabel said with gentle sympathy. “You make becoming Magnus’s life mate sound like a trip to the dentist. Believe me, being life mates is wonderful.”

“Is it?” she asked, almost desperate to know what it would entail.

“Yes,” Mabel assured her. “Those nanos know their business. If they’ve hooked you up, then you and Magnus will suit each other like salsa and cheese on tacos.”

Allie smiled faintly at the analogy, reminded that Elvi and Mabel owned and ran a Mexican restaurant. But she asked, “You think the nanos decide on life mates?”

Mabel shrugged. “What else? They’re why we can read minds, so it just stands to reason they’re why we can’t read our life mates. And trust me, they’re never wrong. If Magnus can’t read or control you, you’re the one for him. And he’ll be the one for you.”

“How?” she asked at once.

“Well . . .” Mabel glanced to Elvi.

“You’ll have similar tastes,” the redhead said, “and similar values. None of us seem to argue much. That’s not to say never, but they aren’t serious arguments. Mostly it’s a case of irritation on the part of the women when the men get too protective, or the other way around.”

“And even then you make up pretty quick,” Mabel put in.