Weird Wedding at Wonky Inn: Wonky Inn Book 3

by Wycherley, Jeannie

  The make-up and hair artist had surpassed herself—there could be no denying. Kat was at once entrancing and magnificent, while simultaneously appearing cold, fearsome and terrible. Her red and black dress fitted to perfection and shimmered as the beads caught the light. Her normally lightly tanned skin had been powdered to a smooth translucent blue-white. Her face was sculpted with eyes at once smoky and yet piercingly sharp. Her lipstick was black to match the new colour of her hair, twisted into a complicated hairstyle.

  As she drew closer to me, I glimpsed my first look at the ornate crown that Melchior had insisted she wore. Over a foot high, I imagined it was cruelly heavy. It had been crafted in gold and jewels, with spokes that ran off the head piece and cradled Kat’s head, digging in around the jaw line and the back of the neck in five or six places. I could imagine it pinching as she tilted her head or altered her posture. It spoke of Melchior’s control and obsession, and Kat’s submission and acquiescence.

  I heard the gasps and murmurs in the congregation behind me, and hoped that having so recently built bridges with some of my nearest neighbours, this weird and oddly unsettling wedding wouldn’t serve to burn them down again.

  As George drew level with me, Kat dropped his arm. He helped her onto the stage—with some difficulty given the volume of the dress and the weight of the head dress—then joined me at the front. The Devonshire Fellows finished their song and the celebrant moved to the centre of the arbour and raised his hands.

  “I welcome you all, friends and family of the bride and groom, and express my gratitude that you have chosen to join Melchior and Ekaterina on this, the most important night of their lives thus far,” he intoned.

  “This evening, in the presence of our lords, gods and goddesses, we will bear witness to the miraculous power of love, and join Melchior and Ekaterina in marriage. We will join their souls and unite them as one in their hearts.”

  I shuddered at the words. Tonight Kat’s mortal life would come to an end, and her immortal life must surely commence.

  I glanced at George, wondering whether there was anything we could do to stop this madness, but he misconstrued my look and only smiled at me and took my hand. I turned to face forward again but noticed the lights of a car coming up the lane. A taxi. It was travelling quickly and as it sped along the drive it scattered gravel everywhere, causing many guests to swivel around to look. We were all wondering who could possibly be arriving this late in the ceremony.

  The taxi drew up in front of the inn, and two women leapt out of the back and ran towards us. The front passenger seat also opened.

  The celebrant raised his voice calling my attention away from the interruption. “Marriage is a conscious act of will that entwines two lives for eternity. Tonight, Melchior and Ekaterina will affirm and declare each other as partners in life and in death, and celebrate their union, and their immortal life’s path together.”

  “Ekaterina!”

  One of the women ran up the red carpet towards the dais shouting Kat’s name. I stepped forward, thinking she meant to disrupt the service. “Ekaterina,” she called again, a slim woman in her fifties with hair caught up in a scarf. She had the look of someone who had lived a hard life. There were bags underneath her eyes, and deep-set lines cut around her mouth, but still she appeared full of energy. She looked at me desperately as I reached to hold her back, took my hands, with her own that were dry and calloused, and began speaking in Russian.

  At this, Kat turned slowly—for the horrendous crown only allowed for slow considered movements—and stared in disbelief.

  “Mama?” she whispered.

  “Yes, Malyshka!”

  “Mama!” Kat screeched and wobbled across the dais towards her. Melchior snatched his hand for her to yank her back to her place, but Kat turned to him as he pulled, and with one well-placed right hook to his nose, landed him squarely on his backside.

  I laughed in happy astonishment. I’d recognised a certain feistiness in Kat before, and to be fair she must have caught him off balance, but even so, I applauded her for taking out the bridegroom so spectacularly. He sprawled on the floor, clutching at his nose, blood leaking between his fingers, fury in his eyes, his mouth opening and closing in indignation. Fearing for Kat’s safety I leapt on to the stage and shielded her from him as he tried to stand. She clutched at me as I helped her down the steps to the lawn where her mother enveloped her in a warm embrace. Sabien helped Melchior to stand but held him back.

  They were joined by the second woman, and Ekaterina yelped with surprise. “Ludmilla,” she cried, and the women hugged and rocked together, talking rapidly in Russian so that nobody else could understand a word. I looked around at the guests. The vampires were uneasy, wondering what was happening, but the locals were nodding and smiling and very much enjoying the spectacle. I suspected, this was one wedding they would be talking about for years to come.

  “Mama, it was my dearest wish you should be here.” She turned to the other woman, “Ludmilla,” she asked in English. “How did you get here?”

  Ludmilla looked around. “A phone call. Flight tickets,” she replied in broken English. “All paid. All taxi.”

  Kat shook her head, confused, “But who? Who did that?” She looked at me. “Alf?”

  I shook my head. “Not me, but …” I looked around, spotted Marc on the periphery and waved him over. “If I’m right…?”

  Sabien’s cultured French accent cut into the general hoo-ha. “Shall we continue? The moon eez high. We must complete ze ceremony.”

  Kat waved him away impatiently.

  Melchior’s cold voice behind us cut through once more. “Kat. It’s past time. We must do this now.”

  Kat didn’t even acknowledge him. “Marc?” she asked softly, and he walked forwards. She took his hands. “Thank you,” she said. “You made my dream come true.”

  “You made me a promise, Ekaterina,” Melchior insisted, his voice sounding thick, the growl ominous, his once-pristine white shirt soiled with blood was a promise of more violence to come. “We have an agreement.”

  And with that he turned. With a roar he reached for Kat once more, his eyes glittering with black death, mouth open and fangs unsheathed. His nails tore into the skin at Kat’s shoulder and she shrieked in fear. He threw her towards Sabien and flew at Marc. There was pandemonium in front of the dais as the congregation scattered in panic, trying to put some distance between themselves and the flailing vampires.

  Melchior had a tight hold of Marc and had forced him to his knees. Sabien gripped Kat’s shoulders, his own nails, black talons of doom, his teeth shining—reflecting the light from the Hunter’s Moon.

  Kat’s wail of despair at Marc’s predicament turned into a scream of pain and she clutched at her head. The hideous headdress, so tightly clamped around her jaw, began to compress her skull. From my relatively close vantage point I could see how it gripped her cheeks and pinched the skin around her chin.

  I rushed towards her, not knowing how I could help, but intent on freeing her if I could get close enough. If I could only wangle my fingers inside the gilded cage that held her prisoner and pull her free, or somehow loosen it enough to prevent her skull being crushed, but my subconscious knew that one targeted blow from Melchior or Sabien, or any of the other gathered vampires, could finish me off for good.

  I hadn’t even made it within two feet of Kat when a blinding flash drove me to the floor, arms raised to protect my head and face. I heard Kat shriek again, and Sabien squawk in fury. Tentatively uncovering my face, I looked up, and was startled to see Wizard Shadowmender standing on the dais, wand drawn, a look of fury on his face, the like of which I had never seen before.

  With another sharp flick of his wand, the evil cage gripping Kat’s head loosened. Orange energy, spun and coiled around the vampires, holding them locked in place. They could move their limbs, but not exit the cannily woven forcefield. Only Marc, squatting on the ground, rubbing at his neck, had his freedom.

 
Wizard Shadowmender reached down to help me up. “Really, Alf,” he said, his tone mild, a slight curl at the edges of his mouth. “You do get yourself into such scrapes.”

  I laughed, a little shakily, and turned to Kat. “Are you alright?” I asked, breathless with the fear that had gripped me.

  She nodded. “Thanks to this gentleman.”

  “This is Wizard Shadowmender,” I introduced them to each other. “He always seems to be around when I really need him.”

  “Thank goodness.” Tears of relief shone in Kat’s eyes. She reached for me and clasped my hands in hers.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It was an error of judgement on my part. I should never have agreed to let this wedding go ahead.”

  She shook her head. “No. Don’t be sorry. I do not believe it was your decision to make. They were holding my family hostage. And I would have done anything to ensure my mother and sister’s safety.” She smiled her thanks at Shadowmender, then turned her misty eyes back to me. “I have one more favour to ask of you. You made a potion,” she said. “It protected the village.”

  “Yes.” I wondered where she was going with this.

  “You can make it again?”

  I looked at Millicent who was standing in front of the dais, listening intently. She nodded.

  “Yes,” I said again.

  Kat looked me directly in the eye, her face grave. “Alf. Can I entrust you with the protection of my beloved mother and sister?”

  Now I was beginning to understand. I glanced at Wizard Shadowmender and he nodded. I would need his support to help Kat’s family disappear out of the reach of the vampires. “Yes,” I replied firmly.

  “That’s all I need to know,” Kat said, tears shining in her eyes. She reached up and began clawing at the head dress as though it was on fire. “Get this thing off me,” she yelled, and I dug in gladly, seeking a way to extricate her from the repugnant cage encasing her skull. Charity rushed towards us to lend a hand too.

  I cast a wary glance back to where Melchior was standing alone. Like Sabien and Gorkha on the dais, he had been encased in the elliptical energy field. I feared that one of them could leap forward and interfere, but each remained where they were, equally helpless, brimming with rage. Melchior—tensing and untensing his hands and gritting his teeth—looked as though he would like to strangle someone. Preferably me or my elderly wizard friend, I imagined.

  “Have you lost your mind?” he spat at Kat. “Set me free. Let’s finish this ceremony once and for all. You know I can make your life a living hell, Ekaterina.”

  Kat rounded on him once more. “You have already made my life a living hell, Melchior. For months. Ever since you met me and insisted on this faux marriage. But now my mother and my sister are safe, and they will remain protected here at this inn, thanks to Alf and Wizard Shadowmender. I don’t need to marry you anymore. You have no power left—no way of lording over me. I do not give my immortal soul to you.”

  Charity worked the final clasp free and the heavy crown fell to the floor with a loud thunk. Kat jumped from the dais and grasped Marc’s hand while our guests inched forwards, returning after running away, watching all the proceedings avidly. Kat shouted up into Melchior’s furious face, “I’m free now. Free of you. I will marry the man I love. The man who loves me. Who loves me as I am and has no wish to change me. The one who would move heaven and earth to see me happy. Who would reunite me with my loved ones, not threaten their very existence. I’m going to marry Marc.”

  Melchior stunned by her malevolence glared firstly at her and then at me. “You put her up to this,” he hissed.

  “Alf had nothing to do with it.” Kat jumped straight in before I could say a word. “I don’t need anyone else to show me what a complete waste of space and oxygen you are, Melchior Laurent.”

  “You’ll regret this,” Melchior wagged his finger at her. “I’ll make sure you do. And as for you,” he glared Marc, “I’ll make sure you pay. I’ll have you torn limb from limb. You know I can do it.” He shook his head and laughed, a deeply troubled and hollow sound. “I can’t believe you’d choose this loser over me,” he scowled at Kat. “He can’t ever do anything right.”

  Marc wrapped his arm around Kat and bent down to kiss the top of her head. Kat peered up at him, her expression soft and loving. “He’s done alright by me so far,” she smiled.

  * * *

  Five minutes later, under Wizard Shadowmender’s watchful eye, a cloud of bats took to the skies above my wonky inn. I observed their departure with relief. They twisted and rolled as they passed across the moon, their movements unnatural and lacking in grace, as though operated by some hidden puppeteer.

  We had moved the remaining guests inside the inn, where Charity was running a free bar, and Luppitt Smeatharpe and his friends were rocking the joint. Wizard Shadowmender had ensured a smooth departure of our unwanted fanged friends, and at the end, Sabien had yet again proved to be a calming influence on his son. When the wizard sternly but politely requested the vampires take their leave, Sabien quickly assembled his party and issued the necessary instructions.

  Charming to the last, Sabien took my hand and held it to his lips. “I’m sorry it had to end like this, Alfhild.”

  “Me too,” I lied.

  “And I’m sorry for all ze trouble my son has caused. Perhaps Marc is right, and Melchior does still have a great deal of growing up to do.”

  I had to agree with that. “What about Kat’s family?” I asked. “And Marc and Kat? Can you promise they will be safe?”

  “I will attempt to make it so, but Melchior, he likes to get his own way. I will try to distract him with a new playmate, perhaps.” Sabien laughed and I resisted curling my lip in repugnance. With Wizard Shadowmender’s help I would ensure Kat’s family remained forever out of the vampire’s field of vision.

  “And what about you? How will you keep yourself safe?” Sabien asked, and while he said this with a smile, I sensed the steel behind his gaze and heard the warning in his tone.

  I glanced back at the inn behind me, lit up with warmth and energy, music and laughter drifting from the open windows and doors.

  “Every day that I live here I derive power from the inn itself, from my land, the forest and my friends. I have all the protection I need, Sabien, and I will be forever watchful and alert. Don’t think that I won’t. A witch’s strength is drawn from nature, and from deep within herself.”

  Sabien bowed his head. “In spite of everything, I am honoured to have met you, Alfhild. The hearses will return for our belongings. I will settle the bill when I return to Paris. Until we meet again.” And with that, he must have passed some secret signal because as one, the vampires leapt into the sky, obscuring the stars and transforming in the blackness of the night, and with a great fluttering, sped clumsily away.

  Wizard Shadowmender and I stood together and silently watched them disappear. When every single one of them were out of sight, I let out a sigh of relief.

  “Better?” Wizard Shadowmender asked and I nodded.

  “Much better.” I smiled at him. “Thank you for showing up when you did. How did you know?”

  The elderly wizard glanced back at the inn. “A little bird told me.” An evasive answer I thought.

  I suggested he go inside in the warm while I mooched around, switching off fairy lights and dowsing the braziers, picking up stray champagne flutes that had been discarded as the vampires took to the wing. He did so, and when I’d been around the garden once, I scanned the area for anything obvious I needed to attend to before the morning, intent on following him in.

  A single red light appeared to be glowing in the hedge behind the arbour. I meandered over, figuring it was a solar light that I could do nothing about, my mind distracted and in a hurry to join the party inside. Ten feet from the light I stopped still, watching it spin, the tell-tale gold thread running through it, tiny sparks of light flying out as it gyrated, my breath catching in my throat and the familiar vein of pani
c stroking icy fingers down my spine.

  “Relinquo,” I commanded it. “You are not welcome here.”

  It hung in the air, no larger than a ping-pong ball, then backed away through the hedge, fading from view. Too close for comfort. I would have to tell Wizard Shadowmender about this and ask for his help to step up the protective circle around the inn and my grounds.

  The Mori back here at Whittle Inn? It could not be countenanced.

  The memory of the last time I’d seen Jed wormed its way uneasily into my mind: in the clearing at the centre of Speckled Wood. I could have used the Curse of Madb on him. I could have finished him off once and for all. Perhaps I’d been misguided.

  Perhaps I had been weak.

  I watched the spinning globe go, fear gripping my intestines. First Derek and now this appearance. Clearly, The Mori had not finished with me yet. Were they still after my inn, and the land it stood on?

  I shivered in the cold air, goose bumps prickling along the back of my neck as I frowned into the darkness. I still had no idea what Derek Pearce’s link to The Mori had been. Why had The Mori been at his house? Had they killed him? I assumed so. And why had Derek been storing chemicals in his shed at the allotments?

  I needed answers.

  Looking after my wonky inn felt like a daunting task at times, but I had to remember I was not doing this alone.

  I turned my face to the stars, purposefully placing my back to the hedge and the orb, and walked towards the inn, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched.

  Paranoia.

  George was waiting for me inside. For now, it was time to party.

  I plastered a carefree smile on my face and joined them—a smiling George who wrapped an arm around my waist, Charity busily serving drinks at the bar and looking supremely in control, her pretty pink hair standing on end, and all my friends from Whittlecombe including Rhona—accompanied of course by Stan who looked so much better—all singing the praises of Millicent’s blackberry potion.