Two Weddings (and One Near Funeral) (southern arcana )
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Two Weddings (and One Near Funeral)
( Southern Arcana )
Moira Rogers
In this short story set between books three & four of the Southern Arcana series, you get two weddings for the price of one. Find out how Mackenzie and Jackson ended up enjoying a honeymoon in Vegas--and how bad Alec and Carmen's wedding had to be to drive them there.
This story is provided as a free read for fans of the series, and may contain spoilers for books 1-3 of the Southern Arcana series, and confusion for anyone not familiar with the characters involved. Read with caution!
Two Weddings (and One Near Funeral)
Southern Arcana - 3.5
by
Moira Rogers
T-10 Days and Counting
Mackenzie traced her finger down the neat list of names, her dread rising with each one. Everyone she knew and loved, all of her nearest and dearest, doomed to tragedy with a slash of Carmen’s pen.
Oh well, it was too late to back out now. All that was left was to ask the most important question. “Ten bridesmaids and ten groomsmen? Are you getting married, or invading Canada?”
Carmen leaned over to peer at the list. “A surprising number of them do know how to handle heavy artillery.”
At least the woman was keeping her sense of humor. Mackenzie moved her finger back to the top of the list. “Franklin and Ollie were in the army with Alec, weren’t they?”
“And Karl. They still like to argue over who was the biggest badass.” Her smitten grin made it clear who had her vote.
Alec was a lucky bastard, indeed, to have found a woman who wanted to put up with his insufferable bullshit. Of course, Mackenzie had noticed a decided decline in said bullshit when Carmen was around, proof that even Alec could behave himself with proper incentive. “Yeah, this is pretty much a who’s who of local muscle and growly shapeshifters.”
“Don’t forget the psychics.” Carmen frowned at the stiff garment in her hands, then turned it around. “Is this the front or the back?”
Mackenzie studied the intricate bridal underwear for about two seconds before shaking her head. “Damned if I know. Where’d Sera get to?”
“Just a second...” Sera’s voice drifted in from the front of the boutique, probably too faint for Carmen to hear. But the young coyote would have heard Carmen, since her hearing was every bit as good as Mackenzie’s own. A moment later Sera appeared, a small stack of papers clutched in one hand. “The mess with your cousin’s bridesmaid dress is straightened out. I love being around people who actually find me intimidating.”
“They found Veronica’s dress?”
“No, but the replacement will be here tomorrow.” Sera thrust out the paperwork, and Mackenzie snatched it just in time to keep it from hitting the floor as Sera turned back to Carmen. “Here, you’ve got it backwards.”
“Bless you.” Carmen held up her arms as Sera wrapped the corset around her midsection. “I have no idea what I’m doing, and Geraldine will be back in here any minute. I’d rather she not see me naked and start helpfully doling out nutritional tips.”
Protective irritation stirred in Mackenzie before she could choke it down. “Alec said I could take his mother out back and beat her, if I thought it was necessary.” It was half the reason he’d begged her to accompany Carmen to begin with. Sera was too submissive to stand toe-to-toe with an alpha bitch like Geraldine. Mackenzie didn’t have any such problems. “I’ll do it, too. Don’t think I won’t.”
“I know you will, and I love you for it. But I’d rather just get through today and get the hell away from her.”
Well that wasn’t any fun. “Carmen? I kinda want to hit her.”
Sera made an amused noise as she fastened the last catch on Carmen’s bodice. “Of course you do. You’re both alphas with opposing goals. It’s ten days to the wedding, Mac. Rein it in and let me work my magic on her.”
“Ten days.” Carmen took a deep breath and tilted her head as she studied her reflection in the mirror. “I can put up with anything for ten more days.”
Committing to spend the rest of your life with someone shouldn’t be this damn miserable. Mackenzie ran the thumb of her right hand over the simple engagement ring Jackson had slipped on to her finger at the beginning of summer. An afterthought, really, since they’d known they were headed toward forever years ago. But Mackenzie had been dragging her feet, intimidated by the massive headache of planning a wedding—much less one that wouldn’t disappoint Jackson’s wealthy, well-bred mother.
If a wedding party of twenty and underwear someone had to help you into was what it took to please a rich mother-in-law, she’d live in sin for the rest of her life.
T-9 Days
Watching Alec pace the office was starting to make Jackson seasick.
He rubbed his forehead and squinted up at the scowling man. “Is everything all right? You can take the day off, you know. I’ve got it covered.”
Alec shot him a vicious look. “The second I walk out that door, I’ll get dragged into wedding shit.”
From the way Mackenzie had talked about the events of the previous day, it might not be such a bad idea. “Doesn’t Carmen want you to help?”
This time, Alec winced. “Right now, she probably wants me to die.”
“Bullshit, man.” Jackson propped his elbows on his desk. “Okay, maybe she wants your family to die, but not you. You, she’ll keep.”
“Maybe.” Alec shoved a hand through his hair, which desperately needed to be trimmed. The strands stuck up haphazardly as he blew out a breath and dropped into his chair. “I tried running interference, but it makes things worse. My mother needs to know Carmen can stand up to her, or I really will have to kill the damn woman.”
“This is really bugging you, isn’t it?” Jackson snorted. “Look, man, every big wedding is like this. It’s just months of crap you have to wade through before you get to the honeymoon.”
Alec groaned. “Yeah. Months of stupid political maneuvering. None of this is about us. It’s about a Conclave member marrying a psychic halfbreed and every damn wolf in the country fighting for a front-row seat to see if any of us upstart New Orleans whackjobs do something crazy during the ceremony.”
“Like skip out on it altogether and elope?” Lord knew he’d be tempted.
“I suggested it. Twice.”
And if he thought his bride-to-be would take him up on it, he hadn’t been paying attention. “That lady of yours could kick both our asses without breaking a sweat. She’s tough, Alec, and she’s not going to punk out on a responsibility.”
For the first time, Alec’s lips twitched up in a smile. “Yeah. I know. It’s just harder to deal with when it’s my responsibility and she’s miserable because of it.”
“There is no yours and hers, not anymore,” Jackson reminded him.
Alec snarled. “I’m tired enough of taking this superior shit from Nicole. You don’t get to deliver sage married wisdom until you manage to get yourself hitched, buddy.”
Jackson suppressed a smile. “You want to fight it out? I’ll go right now, bring it.”
The wolf’s fingers clenched, like he really would take a swing, then relaxed as he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Nice of you to offer, but if you let me put so much as a scratch on you, your woman’s going to chew me up and spit me out. She’s not a fan of my entire family right now.”
Mackenzie pitied him more than anything else, but telling him so would probably only piss him off more. “Carmen would crawl over broken glass for you, just like you would for her. This is a poofy dress and a couple of stuffy parties.”
“Yeah, yeah.
I know.” Alec slumped lower in his chair. “I might take broken glass over that godawful tuxedo.”
“Shut up, we’re gonna look good.”
Another hint of a smile, and Alec unbent enough to scoop up a rubber band and flick it across the office. “The girls will, at least.”
With an imminent meltdown averted, Jackson leaned back in his chair. “There you go. Focus on the positives. Nothing to it, Jacobson.”
Easy for him to say, of course. All eyes wouldn’t be on him, and he didn’t have to watch the woman he loved struggle to stand her ground against a hundred years of oppressive tradition.
T-8 Days
Mackenzie slammed the front door hard enough to rattle every picture in the apartment. Then, just in case Jackson hadn’t gotten the hint, she opened the door and slammed it again.
He came to the kitchen doorway, a dish towel in his hands. “Am I going to need bail money?”
“Try a shovel.” But just the sight of him took the edge off her temper. She dumped her keys in the bowl next to the door and tossed her bag to the ground. “Alec’s father is a sleaze. If I catch him eyeballing Sera’s chest again, I’m going to break his nose.”
Jackson arched an eyebrow. “Do I need to do it?”
“No.” Sighing, she slipped into his arms and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Sera emasculated him pretty well on her own. Which I’m sure was nice for her independence and all, but I really want to hit someone.”
“Mmm, I know.” He kissed the top of her head. “But won’t it be something if we both make it through this next week without beating the crap out of anyone?”
His familiar touch soothed her longing, but not the irritation prickling just beneath her skin. It had been building for months, but Carmen’s suffering had kindled that itch into a nagging discomfort. “Do all shapeshifters get pissy as they get older, or am I going through some weird cat thing? Because I want to sharpen my claws on both of Alec’s parents, and that’s a little unreasonable.”
“I don’t think anyone finds it unreasonable, Kenzie.” He made a soft noise as he stroked her hair. “They sure are doing their level best to drive our friends nuts.”
“They are.” She drew in a deep breath, and smiled when the scent from the kitchen finally registered. Tomato, herbs, a hint of wine... “I get Italian food?”
Jackson grinned down at her. “I figure you deserve it after the last few days of not punching anyone.”
“Damn right I do.” She rocked up on her toes and brushed her lips over his. “I think I deserve a backrub too. And possibly some sex. The kind that requires wards to keep in the noise.”
He tossed the towel over his shoulder. “You’re going to make me burn dinner.”
Dinner was nice. So was the delicious heat licking over her skin. No magic, no instinct...just old-fashioned lust-coated love. She twisted her fingers and got a good grip on his shirt, then used all of the lovely shapeshifter strength she’d finally mastered to rip open the fabric.
“Dirty,” he murmured approvingly, then dropped his mouth to hers.
T-7 Days
“No strippers, I promise.”
Julio groaned a little. “No strippers? Come on.”
“Beer,” Jackson told them resolutely. “Beer and dead cow. That’s what Alec wants.”
Miguel laughed. “That’s way kinkier than chicks in g-strings.”
Derek shot him a look—a pissy, I-know-you’re-sleeping-with-my-baby-cousin look that promised imminent violence almost as effectively as the words that followed. “You are far too invested in strippers. Do I need to beat some sense into you?”
Pointing out that Julio had been the most vocal proponent of burlesque entertainment would do no good. Jackson sighed and tried to pull their attention back to the subject at hand. “John said we could rent out his place for the night, and he’ll even man the grill himself.”
At least Derek was easily distracted. “John Gravois? Is he still running that bar down near the French Market?”
“He is. And since the ladies have Mahalia’s for the night, I think it’s our best bet.”
Julio grabbed another slice of pizza. “If it’s what Alec wants. But I bet Nick and Mackenzie are getting Carmen a stripper.”
“Doubt it,” Derek countered at once. “I know my wife, thanks. If there are strippers, there’ll be two. Minimum.”
“See?” Miguel pointed at Derek with his beer bottle. “Carmen’s going to be knee-deep in man titty, and Alec’ll just have to squint and drink until one of us starts to look good.”
“I’m nominating you,” Julio managed through a laugh.
“Seconded,” Derek agreed. “Man up and take one for the team, Miguel.”
“Hey, if anyone’s taking anything here—”
“So,” Jackson interjected. “With that taken care of—” His phone vibrated, and he checked the display to find a text message from Kat. Is Derek giving Miguel a hard time? Punch him. “Damn it.”
Guilt flashed across Derek’s face, like he knew who the message was from. “Trouble?”
“Sort of.” With an apologetic look, he punched Derek on the shoulder. “Your cousin’s orders.”
Grumbling, Derek pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “He started it.”
“I fear for your future children.”
Julio crowed with triumphant laughter and waved his own phone in the air. “Carmen says she’s okay with Alec having strippers.”
“Oh my God.” Jackson dragged a hand through his hair. “Will you shut up about the fucking strippers?”
T-6 Days
“Have pity on my boyfriend, Nick.” Mackenzie rescued the phone from Nicole’s grasp and settled it on the bar. “Pretend it’s going to be the most boring bachelorette party in the history of weddings, because the seventeen thousand groomsmen are grumbling that Alec just wants steak and beer.”
“Of course he does. If he wanted to stare at anyone but Carmen naked, he wouldn’t be getting hitched. The strippers are for the groomsmen.”
According to Jackson, the strippers were for Julio. And maybe Miguel, and wouldn’t that be fun, when Andrew decided that Miguel ogling half-naked women was a betrayal of Kat. For a man who claimed he’d walked away, Andrew had a hard time not punching people over Kat’s happiness. “This is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”
Nick played with the straw sticking out of her soda. “As far as Conclave social events go? It’s going to be cake.”
If this was cake for the wolves, Mackenzie was glad to be a cougar and free of their mess. “For us, or for Alec and Carmen?”
“For us, definitely. But for them too, comparatively speaking.” She shrugged. “Why do you think Derek and I ran away to Barbados?”
Mackenzie hopped the bar and pulled open the fridge to retrieve a beer. “Honestly? I thought you wanted to avoid your sister having to deal with a lot of people.”
“There was that,” she admitted. “But Derek knew I wanted to avoid this stuff just as much. It’s a freak show, and I’ve never been any good at dealing with it.”
“At least Sera and Kat humiliated Alec’s dad into hiding. Did you hear what Sera said to him?”
“She called him Grandpa Jacobson,” Carmen supplied as she slid onto the bar stool on the other side of Nick. “It was sheer perfection. The man is such a creeper.”
“Hey!” Nick patted her hand. “Did you get your—whoa.”
Carmen’s face had collided with a cosmetics counter—and her wry smile showed she knew it. “Geraldine says they have to lay on the makeup for the pictures. I’ll need a hammer and chisel to get it off my face.”
At least the makeup looked expensive, if too liberally applied. Mackenzie pulled out another beer. “Need a drink? Or something stronger?”
“Thanks, but I’m good.” She looked almost mellow.
Nick stared at her. “You didn’t self-medicate, did you, Carmen?”
She laughed. “No, I’m fine. And sober.”
Carmen traced her fingertip over the bar in an absent circle. “I had...a realization. I’ve been getting through all of this by telling myself it’ll be over soon...”
“But it won’t,” Nick finished quietly.
“No,” Carmen agreed. “No, it’s just starting. So I had a good, long talk with myself about what I’ll do when every day is like this.”
Mackenzie leaned in. “Can you take it?”
“It won’t be fun.” She closed her hands into fists. “But I’ll have Alec. That’s all that really matters to me. Everything else is beside the point.”
“You’ll have Alec.” Mackenzie slid her hand over Carmen’s and fought to find some word of comfort. “It’ll get better. Maybe it won’t get great, but the new fascination’s got to wear off eventually.”
“Even if it doesn’t, I don’t care. We’re going to make it work.”
It made Mackenzie feel a little guilty, that Carmen was facing down a life of judgmental wolves and she was still running scared from one Southern mama. “You’re going to make it work. So tell us how to make this easier on you. Or, at the very least, tell Nick how many strippers she can rent for your party.”
Nick smiled wickedly, and Carmen burst out with a laugh. “Is that why my brother called and asked if it was okay for them to hire a few for Alec’s party?”
“Guilty,” Nick murmured. “What can I say? It’s tradition.”
“No firemen,” Mackenzie promised. “Considering Julio’s former occupation, that might be creepy. But hey, hot cops or cowboys?”
Nick made a face. “Assless chaps and a too-small fringed suede vest? Hell yes, that’s perfect.”
Carmen heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But there go all my best costume ideas for the honeymoon.”