Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3)

by Christine Pope

  When he pulled away, though, he frowned, reaching out to touch my cheek. “You’re hurt.”

  “Just a scrape,” I said, so giddy with everything that had happened that I’d honestly forgotten about the cut on my face. “I’ll clean it up later.”

  He didn’t protest, although he did reach over and pick up a napkin from the coffee table and hand it to me. I pressed it against my skin, finally feeling the sting of the wound, although it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had when I first got it.

  “You have done very well,” Lawrence said, and my father nodded.

  “We’ll want to hear the whole story soon, but for now, let me get you a glass of water.”

  That sounded like a great idea. I watched him rise from his chair and head to the kitchen, and my gaze strayed to the clock on the wall in the dining room. Ten past ten. So I’d been gone for only a few minutes.

  Or an eternity, depending on how you looked at it.

  I heard the clink of ice in the glass, and then the soft gush of water from the dispenser in the refrigerator door. As my father was leaving the kitchen, there came a soft knock at the front door. He stopped in the hallway, looking back toward us where we sat in the living room. “Should I get that?”

  “I don’t know who it could be, but yeah, might as well,” Connor said. “I doubt they’d be dropping by at this hour if it wasn’t important.”

  My father nodded and went over to the door, opening it with his free hand. Since he was blocking the doorway, I couldn’t see who was there — but when the glass of ice water fell from his hand and shattered on the wooden floor, scattering ice cubes everywhere, I thought I had a pretty good idea.

  “Hello, Andre,” Marie said.

  * * *

  It was, as they say, an evening of surprises. Once my father got over his shock, he brought Marie into the living room, then apologized about the mess and fetched me another glass of water. Then it was time to tell the story as they all listened intently, exclaiming at certain points — how Jeremiah had never kidnapped his bride, how he and Nizhoni had reconciled at the end — until at last we all sat there quietly, exhausted and overwhelmed. So much had changed, and yet —

  Connor was sitting close enough that we were thigh to thigh, his warmth as always reassuring, solid, real. And so some things, the important things, were still the same. We had each other.

  And now…now we had a future.

  He did try teasing Marie about her disappearing act, but she’d only said, “There are some times when a person needs to be alone. This was one of those times.” Her expression had been calm enough, but there was a certain sharpness to her dark eyes that told me she wasn’t going to tolerate any more questions on the subject.

  Luckily, he backed off. I got the feeling that he didn’t want to push her, not when my father was sitting there and watching her with an expression of pure wonder on his face. It was clear that he didn’t care that she wasn’t the laughing, pretty young woman she’d once been. She was his Marie, and that was all that mattered.

  They left together, taking Lawrence with them. It was a long drive back to Cameron, but I had a feeling they wouldn’t mind too much. After all, they had a lot of catching up to do.

  Connor shut the door after they were gone and raked a hand through his shaggy hair. “I don’t — ” He broke off, shaking his head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “I do,” I said, going to him and putting his hand on the slight curve of my belly. “We can begin right here.”

  He let his fingers rest there for a minute, then smiled, as if it had finally hit him that there wouldn’t be any more doubt or worry, no fears that I wouldn’t be around to be a mother to these children. I would see them take their first steps…say their first words. And, since witch blood almost always bred true, cast their first spells.

  Connor and I would be there for all of it. Together.

  * * *

  “Okay,” I told Sydney, since she hadn’t said one word, only stood there staring at me. “You can be honest. Do I look like a complete heifer?”

  She blinked, then shook her head vigorously. “No. Oh, God, Angela, you’re perfect. Look.”

  Then she turned me around so I could take a look at myself in the full-length mirror. She’d spent all day doing my hair and my makeup and my nails, helping me get dressed, but she hadn’t let me see what she was doing, saying she wanted me to see it all when she was done so I could get the full effect.

  Well, I was definitely getting the full effect now.

  The gown had a high A-line waist to accommodate my baby bump, but even though I was almost six months pregnant, the crisp raw silk seemed to fall away from my stomach rather than accentuate it. The wide straps and the bodice were sewn with tiny crystals, the only ornamentation on the dress, and they sparkled as I turned to look at myself from different angles. Sydney had also curled my hair and put it up, a simple veil falling partway down my back. The antique diamond earrings Aunt Rachel had loaned me glittered as well. And the makeup was perfect, my eyes looking enormous, my mouth touched with color but not so much that it competed with the way Syd had done up my eyes. Eleanor, the Wilcox healer, had made sure that the cut on my cheek healed without a scar, so there was nothing to mar the perfection Sydney had just created.

  “Wow,” I said at last.

  “I know, right?” She stepped away, surveying me with a critical eye in case she’d missed anything. Apparently she hadn’t, because she gave a nod and pronounced, “It really is perfect. And you’re looking perfectly boobalicious in that dress. Connor’s going to pass out.”

  “Sydney!”

  “Well, it’s true. Pregnancy’s done great things for your chesticular region. Makes me want to get knocked up myself.”

  “I’m pretty sure there are easier ways to make your boobs look bigger,” I told her, then turned away from the mirror so I could step into my shoes. The heels were pretty high, so I had been putting off wearing them until the last minute. “Anyway, you know how big a pain it was to find a dress that worked for me, so I doubt you’d really want to go through that when your own wedding is only six months off.”

  Syd and Anthony had gotten engaged over Labor Day weekend. She was already plotting her nuptials with a vengeance, probably making Anthony very glad that he was currently embroiled in negotiations for purchasing a vineyard down in Page Springs…with a little funding assistance from Connor.

  “You’re right, of course.” She went over to the mirror and cast a critical eye over her own makeup, which of course was flawless, as was the fit of the sky blue gown she wore, the beading on the bodice echoing that of my own.

  I could hear laughter just outside the room, and Mason and Carla came in, also wearing long bridesmaids’ gowns that coordinated with Sydney’s, only in a soft coral-pink shade. “You’ve definitely got a packed house, Angela. Or I guess I should say ‘packed garden,’” Carla added with a grin.

  Well, when you combined the Wilcox and McAllister clans, you ended up with a pretty big gathering. To maintain the fragile peace between the two families, Connor and I had decided to have the wedding in Sedona. It would have been easier in a lot of ways to use the country club near our house, but asking all the McAllisters to go blithely trooping into what a good number of them still considered to be enemy territory felt like a bit much. So we compromised.

  Not that having the wedding in a garden overlooking West Sedona with red rock views on every side could really be called a “compromise.”

  “Everything’s ready,” Mason added. “Your aunt sent us in here to see how you’re doing.”

  “Just fine,” I told her. “I was just climbing into these torture devices that Sydney insisted I had to have.”

  “Hey, they’re totally hot,” she protested. “It’s okay to suffer a little for fashion.”

  “I’ll remember to tell you that when you’re six months pregnant and your feet are starting to swell up.” Since I’d been practicing walking in th
e strappy sandals, at least I didn’t wobble as I took a few experimental steps, then turned. “Everything looking okay?”

  “You’re beautiful,” Mason said sincerely. “Connor’s eyes are going to pop out of his head.”

  “Well, I hope they stay where they are, but thanks.”

  She grinned, and Carla added, “So can I tell them we’re go for launch?”

  “Yes,” I told her. “I’m ready.”

  At least, I thought I was. Oh, I wanted to be married to Connor, no question about that. But part of me had thought it might have been easier for us to simply go to the courthouse and make things official in a much more subdued way. He wouldn’t hear of that, though, saying that weddings were a big deal in his family and that people would feel cheated if they couldn’t see us get married. Whatever lingering suspicions some of the Wilcoxes might have harbored concerning Connor’s and my connection pretty much evaporated once word got out that I had broken the curse. And the discovery that my father was the long-lost Andre Wilcox probably didn’t hurt, either.

  It was a little tougher on the McAllister side, but people were gradually accepting the situation. That was all I could really ask for; the prejudices of generations couldn’t be put aside in a day. I had, however, informed Margot Emory of the truth of the situation, and, true to form, she hadn’t really apologized for the misinformation she’d given me, but only tilted her head to one side, gave me a tight-lipped smile, and said, “Oh, so that’s what really happened? How…romantic.” And the way she said “romantic” made it sound just the opposite.

  Well, she hadn’t been there, and I wasn’t going to bother trying to change how she viewed the matter. The important thing was that she’d spoken with the other elders, and they’d agreed — if somewhat grudgingly — that they would take down the wards that had been protecting Jerome from any Wilcox incursions. A small step, but one I appreciated. The last thing I’d wanted was Mason and Carla to get zapped when they were coming over to look at bridesmaids’ dresses.

  Now Syd went over to the door of the suite I was using for a dressing room and cracked it an inch. “Looks like everyone’s seated, pretty much. I’ll go give Rachel the signal.” She slipped out and disappeared around a corner, while Mason went over to the suite’s mini-fridge and extracted a bottle of water. “Do you want one, Angela?”

  “Better not. Sydney will kill me if I mess up this lipstick.”

  She smiled and cracked the lid on the bottle, sipping at the water before sealing it again. I could understand her wanting to stay hydrated; now that it was mid-September, temperatures were starting to drop somewhat, but it was still fairly warm outside.

  The door opened, and Sydney stuck her head inside. “Okay, we’re really ready. So everyone get their game face on!”

  They didn’t exactly plaster on beauty-queen smiles, but both Carla and Mason perked up a bit, then went to retrieve their bouquets from where they’d been sitting on top of the dresser. Sydney came into the room and got hers, then handed me mine.

  I grasped the bundle of snow white and pale pink peonies, fingers tightening around the tightly bound stems. This was really it.

  “You’re going to be fine,” she murmured. “You look amazing, and you couldn’t have ordered a more perfect day. Or did Adam have something to do with that?”

  As a matter of fact, he had, but I thought it better to let that go for now. I just gave her what I hoped was an enigmatic smile and said, “No comment.”

  “That’s what I thought. Okay, Cinderella, time to go.”

  I had to laugh at that, and followed her and the other two girls out of the room. They all went on ahead of me, but I paused at the tall hedge that separated the garden area where the ceremony was being held from the rooms at the hilltop hotel.

  “Angela.”

  I turned at my father’s voice, and had to pull in a deep breath at the sight of him standing there in a gray suit, his hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He looked so handsome…and happy. Then again, he had every reason to be. He’d been reunited with Marie, and had moved in with her. They hadn’t talked much about marriage, maybe not wanting to overshadow Connor’s and my nuptials. Or maybe they knew that, after their long separation, they didn’t need a piece of paper to tell them that they’d never leave one another’s side again. And I won’t say that Connor didn’t tease me from time to time about having Marie as the equivalent of a stepmother, but I found I didn’t mind so much. Like a lot of other people, she’d mellowed a good deal over the past few months.

  “I’m so proud of you,” my father said, and I felt tears prick at my eyes.

  “Don’t make me cry,” I warned him. “Sydney spent an hour on my makeup, and if this mascara runs, I’m toast.”

  He smiled. “Well, we can’t have that. But — I just wanted you to know how happy I am that you’re allowing me to walk you down the aisle.”

  “Of course you’re walking me down the aisle,” I said, going to him and looping my arm through his. “You’re my father, aren’t you?”

  “That I am,” he agreed. “And I’ll be here for you from now on. That’s a promise.”

  “Good,” I said with a grin. “Because I have a feeling Connor and I are going to need a whole bunch of babysitters in the near future.”

  He responded to that with a laugh. But then I heard the harpist beginning to play Pachelbel’s “Canon,” and knew the ritual walk down the aisle had begun. My heart sped up, and he patted my hand.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready,” I replied.

  We began the slow processional, moving out into the bright sunshine, a fresh breeze playing with my veil. To either side were crowds of people, many of whom I barely recognized — the Wilcox contingent, I supposed — but of course there were many familiar faces, including Sydney’s parents, and then my Aunt Rachel and Tobias and the McAllister elders sitting in the front row on one side, and Lucas and Marie on the other, an empty seat next to her, waiting for my father when he was done walking me down the aisle.

  Then I really didn’t have eyes for any of them, only saw Connor waiting for me, Anthony standing next to him, along with Connor’s friend Darren and a Wilcox cousin whose name totally escaped me at the moment. We were still a few yards apart, but Connor’s gaze caught mine and held. I could see the way his eyes lit up when he saw me, and I almost gasped when I saw how handsome he was in his charcoal gray suit and deep teal tie. He’d kept growing his hair, and now it was long enough that he had it back in a ponytail. I actually loved that, because it was a lot of fun to pull off the elastic at night and let my fingers drift through the heavy raven tresses. And don’t even get me started on the way that hair felt brushing against my inner thighs….

  The woman officiating was someone we’d found at one of Sedona’s funky New Age churches; she’d been more than happy to perform a sort of free-form ceremony for us, as I’d discovered that the Wilcoxes tended to have traditional sorts of weddings, more for appearance than anything else, and I knew the Goddess didn’t care much how this marriage happened, as long as it did. For Connor and I were meant to be together — I knew that more than anything else — and everything else was just window dressing.

  My father bent and kissed me on the cheek before going to take his seat next to Marie, and Connor stepped forward to take my hand in his. For a second I fumbled with the bouquet, totally forgetting I was supposed to hand it off to Sydney. Then I heard her laugh and come over to take it from me.

  After that, things went smoothly, although I have to confess I wasn’t paying much attention to the words of the ceremony, was only staring up at Connor, wondering how I could be so lucky to have found him, how I truly did have the man of my dreams. And at the end he kissed me, warm fire spreading through my veins, and I realized he was now my husband, and I was his wife, and the mingling of the two clans had truly begun.

  Whatever their differences, everyone did stand up and cheer and clap as we made our way back down the aisle, hand in hand. After
this I knew there would be a frenzy and a bustle for a while as the hotel staff broke down all the lines of chairs and set up tables in their stead, but Connor and I got to miss most of that as we had our pictures taken while the sun began to dip toward the horizon, and the rocks blazed redder and redder behind us.

  And when we returned, the outdoor space had been turned into fairyland, with lights swagged from the trees and gleaming from the middle of the tables, and everyone looking a little more relaxed after using the downtime to hit the open bar.

  A week before the wedding, I’d had another appointment with Dr. Ruiz, and she said I could have a small glass of champagne at the reception, as long as it was only the one. “I won’t tell a bride that she can’t have a little champagne at her own wedding,” she said with a smile.

  That hadn’t been the only piece of good news she shared with us, though. She performed another ultrasound, and this time she was able to be fairly definite on the sex of the twins. “Looks like a boy and a girl,” she informed us, while I grinned like an idiot and Connor held my hand and looked at me as if I’d just performed some sort of miracle.

  To him, it was. No Wilcox primus had ever had a daughter since Nizhoni cast her curse, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. “So does this mean our son will be the next primus, and our daughter will be prima of the McAllisters?” he asked me, and I’d laughed and said,

  “How about we let them choose what they want to be? It’ll be a nice change of pace.”

  He’d looked thoughtful at that comment, and nodded slowly, saying, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

  So now I held my own precious glass of champagne, determined to nurse it for as long as required, knowing I’d have to save some for the toasts. The guests milled around, segregating into their little McAllister and Wilcox clumps, just as I feared they would, although I noticed Sydney’s parents seemed to be willing to talk to anyone who crossed their paths. I didn’t know how much Syd had told them about Connor’s and my respective families, and in that moment I didn’t much care. I was just glad to see them treating all the wedding guests alike.