by Angie Fox
He was right. This was all I needed. I clutched my fingers against his T-shirt, watched them dig in against his firm chest. “What are you saying? You want to get married here and now?”
His mouth tipped into a grin. “I have the ring.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the ring wrap I’d seen when I’d looked into his mind. It was gorgeous. I ran my finger over the two rough-cut skye stones. “Blessed by the seven clans.”
“I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand, “I know a place.”
Oh, my God. We were going to get married.
The thrill of it washed over me as we walked down through the trees, away from the gargoyles and the path to the old mansion.
I’d become so used to the dark mass of the house that I hadn’t even noticed it anymore until it lifted. “We’re off the property.”
“Exactly,” he said, as we approached a small building among the trees. “I saw this from the air. It’s an old Spanish mission chapel.”
“It’s tiny,” I said, drawing near. I ran a hand over the curved, pockmarked roof that was barely taller than I was. It had to be a couple of centuries old.
His broad hand touched the chapel near mine. “Missionaries used places like this to store their religious items. And to sleep.”
It was a holy place.
There was a break in the trees here, the sky above us bright with stars.
He leaned closer, drawing me into his arms. “Marry me, Elizabeth Gertrude Brown. Right here, right now. No lion tamer or dancing bears allowed.”
I ran my hands up his arms. “I was kind of hoping for a clown car.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got the biker witches for that.” He lost all trace of humor as he gazed down at me. “Let’s make this about us,” he said simply.
He was serious.
I was, too. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“I should have done it when I first saw this place. I love you, Lizzie. You fill an empty part of me that I didn’t even know I had until I met you.”
I didn’t deserve him. “You’re the most giving, loyal, brave man I’ve ever known.”
He gave a small smile. “It doesn’t mean anything if I can’t share it with you.” He touched my cheek. “I was afraid to love before I met you. It hurt too much after the way I watched my family destroyed. But you helped me live again. You showed me I don’t have to be in control every minute of my life.” His fingers traced my skin. “I can trust.”
“That’s always been so hard for me.” I’d never been a big believer in things I couldn’t see or control. Dimitri had changed that. “You make me feel so safe.” Loved. He grinned, and I did, too. “Thank you for being the person that makes me believe in happy endings.”
Energy prickled along my skin as he opened himself to me. I did the same, showing my love for him with no reservations, no doubt.
“Will you take me, forever and always?” he asked.
“I will.” I held out my hand and he slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, the stones catching the moonlight.
My throat tightened and my heart beat fast when I asked him in turn, “Will you take me? Forever and always?”
His mouth split into a wide smile. “I will.”
The full force of his strength and mine poured from us, merging until we were surrounded by a pure white light. There was never anything more beautiful.
We stood holding each other, complete in the glow of our union. Lovers for life, in control of our destiny. We were the ones who would decide how we lived our lives together.
I felt stronger than I ever had before. Complete. I’d never be alone in this, or in anything else, again. I was home.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was hard for us to drag ourselves back to the house. But with Dimitri by my side all night, even the cursed mansion was bearable. I felt the blending of our powers, and it seemed to lift some of the darkness, for now at least.
We’d escaped into his room to celebrate, and after, I slept better than I had since we’d gotten here.
I woke tangled in his arms, my thigh resting on one of his as he ran his hands along my side. He planted an open-mouthed kiss on my neck before moving lower.
My eyes adjusted to the morning light. If this was what it would be like being married, sign me up for an eternity. The sheets tugged and I moaned out loud as a deliciously hot, wet sensation rasped across my breast. He drew harder, his tongue swirling across my sensitive nipple and I arched my hips.
Mmm… I ran my fingers through his hair. I loved waking up this way. It was sweet and invigorating, and I wanted him. Now.
The head of his cock nudged me where I was most sensitive, then retreated.
“Oh, no. Don’t tease. Come here,” I said, slick and ready. The full, heavy weight of him settled over me as I grasped his shoulders, trying to get him to move up.
He chuckled and rose over me. “My wife is demanding.”
“You love it,” I murmured as he slid deep inside me.
“I do.”
He withdrew and then pushed hard, filling me again.
He made love to me slowly. Perfectly. The things he did to me, the way he knew me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
I came with a shuddering moan, as bliss tore through me. He followed soon after, stiffening and jerking as he joined me.
We lay together for a long moment, content to simply be with each other. I held out my hand and gazed at my ring, the skye stones twinkling with a life of their own.
His breath was warm against my neck. “Good morning,” he murmured.
“Can I stay here forever?” Demons be damned, we had our slice of peace.
He rolled onto his back, taking me with him. “You want my honest opinion?”
My head felt heavy against the rise and fall of his chest. “Always.”
“I can’t believe nobody’s barged in on us yet.”
True. I forced myself to sit. We might as well be dressed once they decided to invade. And Dimitri was right. They would.
He planted a kiss on my head as he slid out of bed behind me. “Happy official wedding day.”
I tossed a pillow at his fine, naked backside. “I’m glad we did it yesterday,” I said, moving to join him in the shower.
He grinned. “Me too.”
***
By the time we finished a clumsy, yet enthusiastic and ultimately fruitful bout of love in the shower, (I’m telling you now, small spaces and slippery tile do not make it easy), we managed to dress without incident.
“Are you ready to do this?” Dimitri asked as I quickly pulled on a sundress.
“Hey,” I said, wondering exactly what we planned to do about a real gown. “As long as I’m with you, I can do anything.”
The household was in a tizzy when I wandered out into the hall.
“You’re on my shit list,” Ant Eater said, stalking past. She wore an honest-to-God dress. Where she’d gotten it, I had no clue. It was a simple green tunic that was actually quite appropriate. “I’ve got the super glue!” she hollered out.
A door opened down the way, and Frieda’s head poked out. “Then what are you doing yelling about it? Get your ass in here.”
Dimitri pulled his tux out of the closet. “It’ll only take me about five minutes to get dressed.”
Showoff. I took a step forward and nearly made mincemeat of Pirate, who was lying in the doorway.
“Whoa, baby dog!” I stumbled to avoid him. “Watch out.”
He leapt up, colliding with my ankle before turning in a circle and plopping down in the middle of the traffic way.
“Now it’s baby dog,” he huffed, giving his best doggie glare. “Let’s not even talk about last night when I was by myself for an entire night.” He cocked his head. “I’m a pack animal. You know what that means? It means I need company.”
He’d always been happy snuggling up with Sidecar Bob, or one of the other Red
Skulls. Then again, the wedding was an adjustment for him as well. “I’m sorry, bub,” I said, lowering my hand to pet him.
He ducked away, and Aunt Ophelia and another woman dodged him, tittering under their breath as they saw me coming out of Dimitri’s room.
It didn’t even matter. Pirate’s mood had instantly lifted because I was paying attention to him, and well, he was a dog. He got off on that.
“You don’t even know what’s going on.” He turned in a circle and sat, “Creely was up exploring the attic where nobody is supposed to go, and she found you a dress!”
Great. “I didn’t even know there was an attic.”
Whatever they’d found, it better be easier on the eyes than my mom’s couture gown. Then again, what did it matter? I was already married in every way that counted. This ceremony, put on for show, was merely a formality—and hopefully, not a disaster.
I still needed to figure out who was possessed and who had stolen my necklace. The protective power I’d gained from Dimitri might have bought us some time, but no telling how much.
Pirate pawed at the floor, his nails clicking against the hardwood. “The dress is in Hillary’s room, where she wants you to get ready. She says she doesn’t want your hands down Dimitri’s pants on your wedding day.”
Too late. And heavens to Betsy, “I can’t believe she said that.”
“I only repeat what I hear.” Pirate said proudly, his tail up. “Now she says you have less than an hour, and you need all the time you can get to look good, and do you want to follow me over there or do you want them coming after you?”
I took a few quick steps back to plant a quick kiss on Dimitri’s lips. “See you at the wedding, hot stuff.”
He smiled as he buttoned his shirt. “Gird your loins.”
Pirate showed me across the hall. Because I needed a dog to find my way.
Inside the ready room, I found mom, Creely and Grandma. I was glad they appeared healthy, and so far, untouched, but part of me longed to see a few of my friends from Atlanta. Of course, we’d told everyone to stay away.
I fought back a wave of regret. It’s not like I’d taken time out to visit in the past year anyway.
Geez, what was I doing? This was a ceremony, nothing more.
“We have something for you,” my mom trilled. She led me over to the bed, with an intricate wedding dress draped over it. “It’s antique,” she said, lifting it carefully.
“It’s a ‘beaut,” Grandma agreed.
The gown was constructed of ivory silk. It had aged perfectly, saved for a sepia tone to the formerly white gown. The bodice featured a lace overlay, woven into a tiny rose pattern. The floor length cut draped longer in the back, creating a beautiful silk train.
“See?” Grandma nudged Creely. “That was worth breaking into the steamer trunk.”
Creely shrugged. “I told you I could have gotten the combination if you’d have given me another minute.”
“Here, let me,” mom said, taking it from me so I could step back and see the intricately cut sleeves, and touch my fingers to the tapered waist and the boned silk collar.
The realization slammed down on me and I yanked my hands back like the fricking thing was on fire. “That’s the dead bride’s dress.”
“Who?” Everyone said, except for Creely.
She merely nodded. “I thought of that,” she said, far too flippantly for my taste. “But you know who probably made it,” she reached for the collar of the dress, “the girls’ mother, maybe her grandmother as well. If she was still around.” She turned the seam out. “Look. Hand stitched. Somebody put a lot of time and love into this.”
Great. A family heirloom. It didn’t change the fact that she was strangled in it. Mom moved in close to me, as did Grandma.
“Feel it,” Creely said, inviting me to run my fingers over the delicate seams. She coaxed the entire dress into my arms. “It doesn’t bite.”
It was lighter than I expected, and it resonated with a crystal clear energy that wound up my arms and into my chest. Incredible.
“See?” Creely asked, reading the expression on my face. “It was constructed well. It has power. This was made with love and hope from the family of that poor girl who died.”
My mom’s hand fluttered at her throat. “Who died?”
Creely explained while I ran my fingers over the intricately woven fabric. Maybe I could go with this. I opened up my demon slayer senses.
The dress was definitely touched by love. And something else. Tragedy. I could sense the faint burn of it. She had definitely died in this dress. But the love was stronger.
It made me wonder. “This could be how the grave dirt powered up the emerald,” I said to myself, “It was a place where the family’s love and prayers were concentrated.” This girl’s household may not have been rich, but they had been strong and deeply tied to each other. “Maybe I could use some of that power to release her ghost.”
We could certainly use all the help we could get.
“First things first,” my mom said, retreating to the bathroom. “You need to dry your hair.”
Whoops.
She gave a long-suffering sigh, which was in this case, justified. “Lizzie, I swear, the wedding is in forty-five minutes,” she said, expecting me to follow.
Okay. I would. First I had to get one thing straight. “Why are you not downstairs with a clipboard?”
She shrugged. “I let your father take over. Sure, he’s quiet, but he’s watched me enough times. And the seating instructions were clear enough.” She leaned in to me, as if she were sharing a secret. “He has no idea we didn’t even rehearse.”
That’s right. Perhaps my mom really had turned over a new leaf.
I glanced to Grandma and Creely, who were taking turns holding up the antique gown in front of them and looking in the mirror. “Why are you not freaking out over that? Or over the dead bride’s wedding dress?”
“I’m starting to learn I can’t control everything,” Mom said, directing me to lean over as she plugged in her curling iron and started up the blow dryer.
It had taken her less time than it had me.
Then again, maybe not. Precisely forty-four minutes later, I looked like a bride.
“Oh, Lizzie.” Mom stood behind me to fluff a curl that I knew would never move because Hillary would never allow it. Her eyes filled with tears. “You look perfect.”
I had to admit, she’d done a great job. I even let her plunk a tiara on my head.
The heavy footfalls of guests sounded in the hallway as everyone headed down to the wedding. My stomach fluttered. It was time.
Yes, Dimitri and I had already had our real wedding, but still. This was a moment I may never repeat.
I stripped out of my clothes and held up my hands as mom and Grandma eased the borrowed dress over my head. It smelled faintly of cedar and lavender.
It was hard to stay sentimental, though, knowing that this would be the perfect time for Zatar to attack. I would have all of my loved ones, present and assembled in one spot. If I were a power sucking, soul-destroying demon, this would be my time to strike.
She kissed me on the cheek as I gazed at myself in the stand-up mirror by the door. I looked like a Victorian bride.
“Beautiful,” she whispered.
I gave her a small hug. “Thanks, mom.”
She handed me an artfully arranged bouquet of peonies and baby roses. Tears welled up in her eyes and she hurriedly wiped them away. “I don’t cry,” she said, voice wavering.
“I don’t either,” Grandma said, slapping me on the back. “Are we ready?”
“Sure,” I said, trying to get my bearings. “Hold on a minute.” I’d left my switch star belt across the hall in Dimitri’s room.
Creely, of all people, anticipated where I was going and blocked me. “He can’t see you!” she grimaced.
“Truly?” I asked her.
She knocked on Dimitri’s door while mom and Grandma shushed me back into t
he ready room. Less than a minute later, Creely walked in carrying my switch star belt. “Your man looks hot,” she grinned.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I said, accepting the belt from her and winding it around my waist. The construction of the dress was perfect for weapons carrying. The fit was also tight enough so I could fire easily.
“What are you doing?” My mom asked, her voice clipped.
“This belt holds my weapons,” I said, fastening the crystal buckle. “You can’t see them, but believe me, they work.”
Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “You are not seriously going to wear a black leather spiked belt with a wedding dress.”
“I think it looks nice,” Creely said, nudging mom.
The wrinkles on Grandma’s forehead deepened. “Your mom could be right on this one. Let us protect you.”
“Come on, Gertie, you know she has powers we don’t,” Creely said, as I modeled my new biker witch bridal look.
My mom opened her mouth to speak, then decided to close it.
“Cheer up,” I told her. “At least I’m not sneaking in the back entrance anymore.” I’d come full circle.
Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.”
At least she’d stopped crying.
She sighed as we headed out into the hall. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll start a new fashion. I can tell my friends it’s couture.”
“They’ll have to admit it’s one-of-a-kind,” Grandma agreed.
I only wished I still had my emerald.
I was surprised to see my adoptive father, Cliff, waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He could have come up. Most likely, he was scared off by all of the estrogen.
He had classic good looks and thick, flawlessly styled silver hair. He winked at me as we approached. “Nice belt.”
“Don’t ask,” Hillary said, taking her clipboard from him.
“Good to see you, sweetheart,” he said to me. Then to Hillary, “The guests are all seated. Dimitri came down a minute ago. He should be out there.” He glanced at me. “I strapped a ring pillow to your dog,” he said, as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d done that.
It had been their only concession to me. A dog laden with fake jewelry. Well, before mom found out I was a demon slayer.