How to Kiss an Undead Bride

by Edwards, Hailey

  “Not to me.” He glanced at me. “Grier?”

  “I assumed she would stay in the carriage house.”

  There was a slim possibility she might stay with Adelaide, but it was up in the air last week.

  “She’s been invited to stay with the Atlanta pack.” Midas hesitated. “At Lethe’s.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. Lethe hadn’t mentioned it, but she might not know if her mother was the one who extended the invitation. Alphas tended to take for granted they could do whatever they wanted, regardless of whose hospitality they tread on. “She accepted?”

  “Not last I heard.” He rolled his shoulders, as if he could feel my gaze heavy on his back. “Let me know if she shows up here?”

  “Sure thing.” I bit my bottom lip. “She’ll be at the bachelorette party, right?”

  “As far as I know.” He paused at the front door. “Grier…”

  “I won’t mention you asked,” I promised. “And I won’t tease you about Hadley.”

  “To my face?” A smile warmed his voice. “I know how sisters operate.”

  Sister.

  That he included me in his definition of pack never ceased to amaze me. That he viewed me as a sister…

  I was grateful he kept his back to me. I didn’t want him to see me cry and think he had overstepped.

  Woolly held the door open for him, and he smiled up at the foyer chandelier.

  About to leave, he hesitated on the threshold. “What’s Oscar doing?”

  “Corbin was playing hide-and-seek with him last I heard. If they’ve moved on from that, your guess is as good as mine. Be careful, though. Corbin sent him a paintball gun for his birthday, but he hasn’t visited to play with him in person until now. I predict the woods are about to become a war zone for as long as Oscar can manifest, and he’s been sleeping for days in preparation.”

  Midas cranked his head toward me. “You’ve got an interesting family.”

  Grateful he included himself in that number, I winked. “I’m lucky like that.”

  Laughing softly, he exited the house and trotted in the opposite direction of where I suspected Corbin and Oscar were setting up their ambush. Now that I thought about it, I bet it was all linked to their plans for Linus. I could see them duking it out with the gwyllgi in a no-holds-barred paintball extravaganza. I just hoped they didn’t paint the house by accident.

  Alone with Linus, I wished I could curl up with him on the couch, snack on some of his extra buttery popcorn, and count down the minutes until the real insanity began, but we were no closer to catching Volkov, or whoever did his dirty work these days, and I owed the florist one last visit.

  Ten

  Flower Power, my adorable hippy florist, was ash by the time I arrived, and the backs of my eyes stung. Imagining it had been bad enough. This…this was so much worse. Its bright paint was blackened with char, and its retro art was reduced to blobs and globs and crust. And the mountains of flowers destined for our venue…gone up in smoke.

  Gilly, the cleaner Linus had thinned from the herd, met us with a clipboard in hand.

  “Hey.” I stepped up to greet her. “Any news on Mr. Laurent?”

  “He was out with his girlfriend.” Her gaze softened. “There are no casualties.”

  “Thank the goddess.” I clutched Linus’s arm. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all night.”

  “Dame Woolworth—” she began.

  “Please.” I rushed to put her at ease. “Call me Grier.”

  Cleaners tended to be pack animals in the same way as gwyllgi, though they were comprised of all species in a given area in order for each faction to receive equal representation. They practiced isolationism to avoid even a whiff of controversy, so it was doubly a treat to meet one so normal.

  I was impressed Linus had managed to earn preferential treatment, and he would have earned it, not bought it, as most folks would assume based on his station.

  “I would rather not,” she said, but not unkindly. “I must ask you to leave until we’ve finished processing the scene. Our findings will be uploaded into the database throughout the day. The full report will be available within forty-eight hours.”

  In two days, I would be married and off on my surprise honeymoon adventure. That was the plan. Had been the plan, anyway. I couldn’t leave my family and friends alone with this. Bad enough our wedding plans had gotten rocky, but I could manage. Missing two weeks of hogging Linus all to myself? That would suck.

  “Of course,” Linus said, stepping into the breach. “Grier wanted to check on Mr. Laurent in person, but we’re pleased to hear he wasn’t present during the fire.”

  “He’s behind the barricade.” She singled him out from the crowd. “You can talk to him if you like. Just stay on that side of the caution tape.”

  “Thanks.” I backed away, into the crowd, and sought out Mr. Laurent. “Your beautiful store. I’m so sorry.”

  “I have insurance.” He waved off my concern. “I started moving in with my girlfriend last week, so my apartment was mostly empty.”

  “I didn’t realize you lived above the store.”

  “Only for a few months while I waited on my house to sell and for Lexie and me to find a new place.”

  A chill swept through me, tingling in bumps down my arms. Javier was killed at his sewing machine. Mr. Laurent could have just as easily burned to ash above his flowers. The baker and caterer ought to be safe. We had posted sentinels under the guise of private security with them to ensure no one tampered with the food. That call had been made early in to protect the guests, not Leslie or Vonda, but guilt made breathing hard when we could have prevented this by posting sentinels with all our vendors.

  “Now, if I’d lost all those family photo albums,” Mr. Laurent prattled on, “I would be weeping over the smolder. A building, though? That I can replace.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” At least one victim was coming out the other side in decent emotional health.

  “You’ll also be glad to hear this.” He dusted soot off his shirt. “I had to move your flowers to Lexie and my new place. They were clogging the aisles in the shop, and we couldn’t get the furniture out past them. Our new house has a basement, so I outfitted it with floral coolers so I can work from home on big orders.”

  Relief, sharp and sweet, pierced me. Finally. Finally something had gone right.

  Guilt. Yup. That was guilt slapping me in the face.

  How selfish was I to be grateful my flowers had survived a fire that cost him his livelihood?

  “Mr. Laurent,” I rushed out. “I don’t want you to think that’s why I came to talk to you.”

  “You’re a sweet girl. I would never assume.” He slid his gaze past me, and he sobered. “I wanted to pass on a scrap of good news to someone in the face of all this. I’m making my peace with losing the old girl, but it’s a lot of work to rebuild. I don’t know that I would try except my grandson has his heart set on inheriting the place.” A spark of amusement flared, somehow brighter than the flames. “He says he’s going to bring his girlfriends upstairs so his mom doesn’t know about them.”

  “Hey, we’ve all got to have dreams.” I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him. “Thank you for the news about the flowers. This wedding has been…challenging.”

  “Aww, you’re fine, sweetheart.” He chuckled through the embrace. “They’re always stressful for the bride. You’ll feel a hundred pounds lighter after you say I do.”

  Given the volume of foods slated to be available at my reception, I would likely feel a hundred pounds heavier after I said I do, but I appreciated the sentiment.

  After Linus rescued Mr. Laurent from my watery clutches, we started walking away from the chaos.

  “He didn’t ask what brought us down here.” I absorbed the spectacle. “He must be in shock.”

  “You own a business not too far from here. He probably assumed you heard about the fire and came running.”

  “Yeah. I�
��m sure you’re right.” I kept my chin up to avoid caving to the desire to cover my nose with my shirt. The smell reminded me too much of the Siege. Burning homes, burning flesh, burning trees. And the screams… Goddess what a nightmare. “I’m seeing connections where there are none.”

  “You’re stressed about Volkov and the wedding.”

  Something about his tone worried me. “The ceremony, yes. Not what comes after.”

  Sure, his tux had gotten ruined. And the tailor had been murdered working on a replacement. Yes, the florist’s shop had burned to the ground, but our flowers had been saved by a stroke of luck. It wasn’t all doom and gloom. As long as the baker and the caterer escaped unscathed, I would still have something to show for the months of hard work.

  The mention of my Haints tempted me to drop in on them, but Marit would have my guts for garters if I tried to skirt her temporary work ban.

  “Ready to go home?” I had to nip temptation in the bud. “It sounds like we both need a full day’s sleep to survive the festivities.” I gave it a minute before I popped out my bottom lip and put on my most pitiful face. “Will you stay the night with me? The whole night? I could use some cuddle time after this.”

  And by cuddle time, I meant begging him to make me popcorn then making out while pretending to watch a movie until bedtime.

  The tiniest smile curved the nearest corner of his mouth. “Are you tracking my sleep cycle again?”

  “Would I do that?” I fluttered my lashes to do Neely proud. “However, if I had been tracking your cycle, I would have noticed you haven’t been getting adequate rest to keep yourself running optimally.”

  Pleasure suffused his face, and it gutted me how often it surprised him that I loved him. He was so used to caring for everyone else, yet he neglected himself. I tended to suffer from the same predispositions, which meant we each dedicated a chunk of our time and energy to ensuring the other one ate, hydrated, and slept enough.

  Movies paint romance as a series of grand gestures and shocking revelations, and there are certainly moments that qualify, but true and abiding love, as far as I was concerned, consisted of all those daily reminders to take care of ourselves.

  A sandwich or a bottle of water said I love you loud and clear. So did clothes warm from the dryer on cold days, not that we had many of those, but Linus kept a chill that made him grateful for the extra heat. You only got the down-on-one-knee treatment once. You could have BLTs every day.

  * * *

  The fuzzy veil of sleep ripped down the middle as the senses I had honed during the last few years shrieked with alarm. I opened my eyes on a gloomy bedroom, where a shadowy figure was attempting to ease a bag over my head. Adrenaline stepped in for the coffee I hadn’t had yet, and I punched them in the face before I registered who I was feeding a knuckle sandwich.

  Oops.

  “Lethe?” I groped beside me, but the other side of the bed was empty. “Where is Linus?”

  “Here,” Hood growled, and I twisted around to find him obscured by a writhing patch of living darkness.

  “What were you thinking?” I shoved Lethe out of my way and rushed to Linus, smoothing my hands down his back. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

  “Yeah.” Hood touched his throat, where a fine red line marred his skin. His shifter healing had already sealed the wound, but the scab remained. “I get that.”

  “He never sleeps.” Lethe threw up her hands. “Linus knew this day was coming, so I figured he would play along, and that would be that.”

  Except I had asked him to spend the whole night with me, knowing that’s what it took for him to close his eyes and get the rest he kept denying himself.

  Oops?

  “Linus?” The icy fabric of his tattered wraith’s cloak crunched beneath my fingers. “It’s okay.”

  Linus closed his eyes and let me rub the tension from his neck and shoulders. Thirty seconds passed, a minute. Two. The darkness evaporated in increments until he stood in his plain tee and pajama pants.

  “I apologize.” He leaned into my touch. “I must have been more exhausted than I realized.”

  For him to admit it, to react so violently, he must have been worse off than I estimated. “It’s not your fault. They clearly made a suicide pact.”

  “You hit me,” Lethe whined. “Now I’ll have a swollen cheek in your wedding photos.”

  “You’ll heal it within the hour, and if you don’t, then I will.” Crisis averted, I finally noticed what she was wearing. Denim overalls, a white tee, and waders. “Um, Farmer Brown called. He wants his clothes back.”

  “Don’t worry. I have a set for you in Moby.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

  I left my hand where it was. “Linus?”

  “I’m fine.” Color rode the ridges of his cheekbones. “You can go.”

  “Are you sure?” I tugged on his shirt. “We could ditch these losers and snuggle instead.”

  “No, you can’t.” Lethe grabbed me by the arm. “You’re coming with me. Linus, you’re going with him. Punch him in the face if you have to, but accept your fate.” She saluted him. “Good day, sir.”

  “Keep an eye on Oscar,” I called to Woolly. “And Corbin. Don’t let them do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  The lights strobed, giving the impression she had learned how to roll her eyes at me.

  “Yeah, that really narrows it down.” Lethe snorted. “Later, Woolly.”

  Lethe must have helped herself to my keys earlier. Moby was idling in the driveway, crammed with familiar faces. They all wore the same outfit as Lethe, convincing me she had signed us up for line dancing lessons or something else that would end the night with us shouting yeehaw.

  I climbed in while she took the wheel and turned to address the group. “Hey, ladies and gent.”

  “Hey,” they chimed back, all smiles.

  Marit, Adelaide, and Neely filled the bench behind us, and Hadley sat with Tisdale Kinase, the Atlanta alpha, on the third row along with a gwyllgi enforcer I wanted to say was named Ares.

  The stark changes to Hadley’s appearance sucker-punched me every time. Whenever we chatted, it was through brief texts during lulls in patrol or over the phone for quick procedural questions, one newbie to another. The rare times I set eyes on her during Linus’s conference calls to Atlanta, I averted my gaze so my brain stopped trying to make Hadley be Amelie again.

  Charms did the heavy lifting, concealing her scent and augmenting her appearance in subtle ways that made it appear she was Adelaide’s sister, not Boaz’s, the similarities between the women more obvious when the trio was together. The hazel contacts helped, so did the short layers that gave Hadley perfect blonde curls, a shade darker than her natural color. Less Pritchard blonde and more Whitaker blonde. But those were surface changes. The real transformation was happening beneath her skin as she came into her own.

  “Do I get any hints?” I studied them. “I’m coming up blank here.”

  “No.” Neely flicked his fingers at the dashing red silk ascot he had tied around his throat to liven up his outfit. “You can, however, join the club.”

  He flung a bundle of clothes at me, an exact copy of what everyone else wore, and I drew an obfuscation sigil on my arm to keep me concealed while I changed. A button printed with the word Bride pinned to one of the denim straps completed the ensemble. That’s when I noticed Lethe sporting a MOH button.

  Aww.

  Lethe didn’t wait for me but stomped on the gas and yelled, “Yeehaw.”

  Sometimes it was scary how well I knew her.

  With Neely at the helm, I had expected (more) silk or sequins, and fancy drinks that glowed in the dark or boiled fog.

  Based on his fidgeting with his clothes and the shine from his thinned lips overpainted with gloss, he was starting to wish he had chaired the party planning, but it might just be indigestion brought on by poor fashion choices.

  As much as I wanted to pity him, I didn’t. Not ev
en a little bit. He had brought this down on himself.

  And on the rest of us.

  He could have tipped us off, but he didn’t, and now we were all in for what promised to be a wild ride.

  “Everyone reach beneath their seats,” Lethe called. “You’ll find six ounces of cheap wine to get us started. Toss that back, and get ready for the best night of your lives.”

  Eleven

  Linus fell in step with Hood as they entered the woods behind Woolworth House, shoeless and still dressed in his pajamas. On the fly, Hood tossed a button over his shoulder, and Linus caught it. It read Groom, and he smoothed his thumb over the glossy surface. Smile tugging on his lips, he pinned it on. Now that his adrenaline was ebbing, he recalled Hood wearing one that read Best Man.

  Figures shifted in the gloom ahead, and the darkness in Linus stirred with interest.

  Corbin stepped out from behind a tree with Oscar by his side. Cruz, also in pajamas, his silk and designer, which led Linus to believe he hadn’t been the only one kidnapped, looked like he would rather be anywhere else. Midas appeared last, a paintball gun braced on his shoulder, and approached them.

  “Linus is on our team,” Hood announced. “Midas, Linus, and I will be the blue team. Cruz, Oscar, and Corbin, you’re the red team.” He scanned the area and pointed out the hidden wraith. “Cletus is in charge of keeping us honest.”

  With the lines drawn, each team retreated to their side of the forest where guns, ammo, and face paint awaited them.

  “Corbin is the team leader for the red team. I’m team leader for blue.” Hood passed around the equipment. “Our mission is to eliminate the other team as quickly as possible so we can move on to phase two.”

  “Phase two?” Linus could barely wrap his head around phase one. “How many phases are there?”

  Hood bared his teeth. “Depends on how long it takes us to accomplish our goals.”

  “Five minutes.” Midas checked his watch. “Then all bets are off.”