WeirdWeddingGuest

by Margaret L. Carter

  Weird Wedding Guest

  Margaret L. Carter

  At a friend’s wedding, bridesmaid Roxanne can’t wait to meet her mysterious email pal, Wilbur, the groom’s reclusive brother. To her shock, he proves to be truly out of this world—an amorphous, six-foot-tall collage of scintillating tentacles and eye stalks. His half-alien ancestry doesn’t keep her from being thrilled by what those tentacles can do!

  A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Weird Wedding Guest

  Margaret L. Carter

  Chapter One

  The abstract sculpture still occupied a corner of the reception hall next to the bar, though the caterers had hauled away the champagne fountain it had supported. Roxanne ducked behind it, hoping Chad wouldn’t follow her inside.

  She crouched on the floor, risking smudges on the hem of her mint-green bridesmaid gown. Keeping it clean hardly mattered now that the ceremony and reception had ended and the newlyweds had driven away. If Roxanne hadn’t accidentally left her purse in here, she would have escaped already and Chad wouldn’t have cornered her in the moonlit parking lot.

  She pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up on her nose and peered at the decorative platform she was hiding behind. It looked like a six-foot-high mound of iridescent bubbles. Rainbow colors shimmered over its surface and violet sparks like miniature lightning bolts coruscated through it. Fascinated, she ran a hand over it. Its cool, smooth surface rippled under her palm.

  She jerked her hand away. She must have imagined that movement. The thing felt alive. Impossible.

  Like this display, the whole celebration had struck her as beautiful but strange. She’d never even heard of the Temple of Dagon before her friend Lauren had drafted her as a bridesmaid. In the ceremony, the priest of Dagon, wearing a robe adorned with a three-lobed eye, and the minister from Lauren’s parents’ church who’d co-officiated with him had made an odd-looking pair. Too bad Lauren’s husband Blake’s twin brother couldn’t make it to the wedding. Wilbur was housebound because of some condition neither he nor Blake had explained. Roxanne had exchanged emails for months with Wilbur, who seemed like a fun guy as well as intelligent. Blake had “introduced” them online, although until recently she hadn’t known their exact relationship. Wilbur would have made a more pleasant companion than Chad, she was sure of that.

  Speaking of the pest, he marched into the room at that moment, calling her name. Just because they’d been paired in the ceremony and she’d resigned herself to the ritual of one dance together, he seemed to think she owed him the rest of the evening. She’d spent it evading his attention. Not that he was bad-looking, with his wavy, chestnut hair, chocolate-brown eyes and broad shoulders, but hunkiness wasn’t everything. She sighed and scrunched lower behind the sculpture.

  “Roxanne?” Instead of giving up when he didn’t get an answer, he circled the room until he stood at the proper angle to catch sight of her. “There you are. I thought I saw you run in here.”

  “Forgot my purse.” She straightened up with it clutched in one hand.

  “Come on, how about joining me for a drink before we head home?”

  “No thanks, I’m kind of tired.” As she’d informed him at least twice already.

  Chad captured her free hand. When she snatched it away, his smile froze. “What’s with you? I thought some sparks flew when we danced.”

  “Sorry, not happening.” She turned away from him.

  He clutched her arm to spin her around. Startled, she let him. “Bet I can change your mind.” Cupping the back of her head, he lowered his lips to hers.

  The second she tasted the beer on his breath, she snapped out of her shock and recoiled from the kiss. “Let go of me.”

  His grip tightened. “Quit teasing.”

  “Can’t you tell the difference between teasing and ‘no’?” She struggled but couldn’t tug her arm free.

  Something long and sinuous lashed out, wrapped around Chad’s wrist and squeezed. He yelped and his fingers went slack.

  What is that? Roxanne gaped at the thing that encircled Chad’s arm. A whip? No, it looked more like a tentacle.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she realized the appendage was attached to the sculpture. Somebody had to be operating it by remote control but who and why?

  A voice boomed, “Unhand the lady.” It reverberated in the pit of her stomach like organ music.

  So the display was wired for sound too? What was the point of that? Chad obviously didn’t pause to think about such questions. He inched away, his mouth hanging open. A purple bolt of electricity arced from the tentacle to his skin. He yelped and jerked his arm loose.

  “Go!” the voice ordered. He turned and ran out.

  Roxanne straightened her glasses and scanned the sculpture. Its surface undulated and lights flickered under the gleaming surface. “Uh—thanks. Where are you hiding, anyway?”

  No longer thunderous but a mellow bass, the voice said, “I am not hiding. I am right here. Are you uninjured?” Three stalks extruded from the display. Stalks with multi-lobed eyes.

  She scrambled backward and bumped into the corner of the bar. One foot slid from under her. Two tentacles stretched out, one encircling her waist and the other winding around her right forearm. Her vision grayed and she stifled a screech—stifled it because whatever this thing was, she still didn’t want Chad hearing her and rushing to the rescue.

  The cool, silken clasp of the tentacles felt like painless static electricity. It sent sparks racing through her whole body from the nape of her neck to the suddenly sensitive soles of her feet, with shivers down her spine and jolts to her nipples and clit.

  “Forgive me, I did not mean to discharge energy that way. You are not hurt, are you?”

  Roxanne shook her head. The fading shock left her breasts and the flesh between her legs tingling with pleasure instead of pain. She blushed even while she struggled to leash her panic and force out coherent words.

  “Interesting. Your skin temperature has risen.” A third tendril extended to brush over her neck, her shoulders and the exposed skin above her cleavage.

  Her nipples tightened. Hoping they didn’t show through her dress, she diverted her thoughts from that tantalizing touch and finally managed to make her vocal cords work. “It’s alive!”

  The tentacles loosened and slipped off her. “I am not an it.” The voice, more subdued now, sounded almost hurt. “Great Yog forgive me, I should have listened to Blake. He told me not to reveal myself. But I could not allow that brute to molest you.”

  “I would’ve managed but thanks for the help anyway. I guess. What are you?” Her mind gibbered in disbelief even though her eyes and ears couldn’t deny what confronted them. I’m talking to a mound of bubbles. With eye stalks and tentacles.

  “I have been watching you throughout the evening. I wanted to meet you in person and speak to you but I promised Blake I would pretend to be inanimate. I am Wilbur.”

  “What?” The word came out as a squeak. “That’s impossible. Wilbur is Blake’s twin brother.”

  “I am. We are not identical.”

  “Well, duh. But you don’t even look like the same species.” One eye stalk vanished into the amorphous mass and the other two swiveled away from her. “No offense meant.”

  “I look more like our father than he does.”

  So this was why Blake never mentioned his parents. “I may be sorry I asked—who’s your father?”

  “One of the Great Old Ones who lurk outside the boundaries of this universe awaiting a chance to return from their eons of exile. He conceived us with a mortal woman who offered herself in the solstice rite. Because I do not share my brother’s human appearance, I have to remain concealed from the out
side world.”

  “Your family hides you? That’s kind of sad, no matter what you look like.” Roxanne edged closer to it—him—and patted the side nearest her. The gelatinous body under the translucent surface rippled. Okay, so my email pal is half alien. He’s not really scary once you get past that fact.

  “You are brave, kind and beautiful, just as I imagined.”

  Again her cheeks flushed with heat. “Come on, I’m a total klutz. I can’t see across the room without my glasses and I trip over cracks in the linoleum.”

  Two additional eyes sprouted and all four fixed on her. They glittered silver and sapphire. A tentacle threaded through her shoulder-length hair. “Your hair is the color of honey. Your eyes are an intriguing shade of green. Your aura glows with vitality. You have the physical proportions considered attractive in this culture. You appear beautiful to me.” The tip of the tendril in her hair grazed the nape of her neck.

  She braced herself for another electric shock but didn’t feel one, only a delicious shiver. Her nipples peaked again. So he liked her “proportions”? She had to admit they constituted one of her better features, at least above the waist. “Thanks. You probably don’t get out much, though.” And to think she’d imagined he stayed home because he was paralyzed or something equally mundane.

  “No, this is my first excursion in years, since I grew to my present size. However, I’ve seen many women in movies.” His speech was becoming more relaxed, she noticed.

  The image of his tentacles operating a TV remote swamped her thoughts with a fresh attack of mind-boggling. She reminded herself that they’d exchanged hundreds of messages discussing anime so he must have a way of watching it. “Excursion? Where do you live?”

  “In the family’s beach house an hour’s drive up the coast. In fact, I must return there soon. Uncle Ward will arrive any minute with the van to take me back.” The eye stalks drooped. “Aside from my appearance, which tends to frighten people, I can’t remain healthy for long outside my specially designed chamber. I’ve dreamed of this meeting for a long time. I wish we didn’t have to cut short our conversation.”

  “So do I.” As a lifelong science-fiction fan, she’d often fantasized about first contact with creatures from other stars. Now that she had a chance to interact with someone who’d inherited half of his genes from another universe, she didn’t want to lose that opportunity. Unless I’m having hallucinations. Maybe Chad spiked my champagne with a mind-altering drug.

  “Maybe you could come home with me. Would you be willing to do that, visit my chamber and see how I live?” His voice vibrated with wistful hope.

  Her heart fluttered with excitement tinged with a hint of fear. What’s to be afraid of, even if he’s real? He’s Blake’s brother and Blake is a nice guy. Plus, Wilbur chased off Chad. My knight in shining tentacles. “Sure, that would be great. Suppose I follow the van in my car?”

  “Excellent.” Several pseudopods popped out and flapped with obvious excitement.

  “Wait, I thought Lauren and Blake were going to spend their honeymoon in that house.”

  “Yes, he has to be present there on the summer solstice. They will not arrive until tomorrow, though. They have a hotel room tonight.”

  “Okay.” She fiddled with her glasses again and tried to brush dust off her skirt.

  Just then the door opened and Blake’s Uncle Ward, whom she vaguely remembered meeting earlier, strolled in. He had thinning brown hair, a slight paunch and a vague facial resemblance to an amiable frog. “The coast is clear. We can leave now.” He frowned at the sight of Roxanne.

  “It is all right,” Wilbur said. “I’ve introduced myself to Roxanne. She is going to drive home with us.”

  His uncle looked doubtful but said, “Well, I guess you’re a big boy. If you want to reveal yourself to people, I can’t stop you. Let’s go.”

  While they talked, she had a minute to entertain second and third thoughts about the situation. If not a hallucination, could this whole setup be an elaborate practical joke with remote controls and a microphone after all? That scenario sounded more believable than a half-human blob as a wedding guest. On the other hand, why would anyone bother with such a trick?

  Those speculations exploded like a burst balloon when Wilbur started toward the exit. He glided across the floor, his pseudopods expanding and contracting, multicolored sparks glinting under the surface of the translucent membrane. A glittery track, which evaporated within seconds, trailed in his wake on the floorboards.

  Roxanne clutched the edge of the bar to keep from stumbling again. “You’re really real.”

  A pair of eyes appeared on the side of him nearest her. “I thought we established that. Are you no longer willing to visit me?”

  He sounded so disappointed she couldn’t cling to the remnants of her fear. “No, no, it’s fine. Of course I’m going with you.” She followed Wilbur and his uncle to the parking lot, where a van sat right outside the door. Ward opened the rear door and pulled out a ramp, which Wilbur crept up. Before climbing into the driver’s seat, the older man gave her brief directions in case she fell behind. She started her compact car and they headed for the highway.

  Their route took them up the Massachusetts coast north of Innsmouth to a small town bypassed by tourist traffic. The beach house was about a mile farther on.

  Over a century old, from what Lauren had told her, it had two stories plus a gabled attic. The vehicles’ headlights showed a wraparound porch. The paint looked faded, weathered to gray-brown by the salt air. After getting out of her car, Roxanne paused for a second to relish the cool ocean breeze in the summer night. Ward lowered the ramp for Wilbur to crawl down. His uncle unlocked the front door and Wilbur flowed up the steps into the house.

  Roxanne followed the two of them inside. A faint smell of dust replaced the scent of salt air. From the carpeted foyer they headed directly to a flight of stairs. Wilbur billowed up them to the second floor, then down a long hall to another, narrower staircase. It ended at a closed door, which his uncle opened. Ward cast a glance at Roxanne. “You sure you want to keep going?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  He shrugged. They stepped into a long, well-swept room lit by a bare bulb on the ceiling. Stacks of boxes and miscellaneous furniture lined the walls between the gabled windows.

  An attic. Wilbur lived in the attic? At the far end another closed door awaited. “Here we are,” the older man said, shoving it open. A whistling sound, like wind through a cavern, emanated from the other side. “I’ll be off now.” With another dubious look at her, he turned to go downstairs.

  “What’s he so worried about?” she asked Wilbur. “I’ve already seen you. What else could scare me away?”

  “Some people find my chamber disturbing. Don’t be concerned, it’s perfectly safe for ordinary mortals.” He glided inside, rotating an eye stalk to gaze at her over his—shoulder? Flank?

  The whistling faded as she followed him in. Splinters of rainbow light stabbed her eyes. She blinked until the colors stopped dazzling her. Now she realized she was staring at a curtain of shimmering mist. With a deep breath, she walked through it. A chill convulsed her. The floor tilted for a second.

  Wilbur shot out a tentacle to wrap around her waist. She grabbed the nearest of his extrusions she could reach. Her head spun with vertigo. When it cleared, he guided her to a plump cushion on the floor. She sank into it, rubbed her eyes and stared at her surroundings.

  Chapter Two

  As she watched him flow to the other end of the chamber, her first thought was that it couldn’t possibly be as big as it seemed. The distance between her and the far wall looked like twenty feet, much more space than this end of the attic could hold. “How can it be this big in here?” she whispered.

  “It is rather confusing to human eyes the first time,” he said. “This room is not entirely within your space-time continuum. I have to live here so I can periodically project my mind into the astral spheres and draw the energy I need f
or nourishment.”

  She clasped her shaking hands together in her lap. “Oh, sure, interdimensional gate, makes perfect sense.” He seemed more vibrant here, with sparks leaping across the glistening surface of his body. He even expanded until he filled more space than he had in the reception hall.

  Forcing herself to scan the area more calmly, she noticed an assortment of cushions like the one she sat on. Scattered around the floor, they comprised most of the room’s furnishings. The single gabled window, blocked with shutters, held a window seat with a pile of smaller pillows. Shelves lined the walls, packed with audiobooks, paperbacks, DVDs, games and computer software. A TV with its accessories and an elaborate stereo system stood opposite Wilbur’s niche. Closer to him sat the computer and its peripherals.

  “Wow. How come your energy doesn’t fry all these electronics?”

  Wilbur’s body quivered in a massive shrug. “It was not easy to adjust them so they operated properly. Fortunately, Blake is very skilled in that field and I learned to control my emanations.”

  Now that her eyes had adjusted, she realized a pearly glow illuminated the chamber, sharpening her awareness that she’d taken a step outside the world she knew. “You must perceive things a lot differently from normal people.” She flushed at the unintended insult. “From the rest of us, I mean.”

  “It is all right. It’s quite true that I am not normal for this dimension.” He swiveled his eye stalks in her direction. “Yes, my senses differ from the human pattern. I don’t have olfactory receptors as such. Instead, I taste the air. I generate visual organs to focus on particular objects but I see in a diffuse way with my entire outer surface. My vision extends higher and lower on the electromagnetic spectrum than yours. I see your aura and the heat of your metabolism. My hearing is also more acute and wider in range, up into what you call the ultrasonic. I can hear your heartbeat, the blood circulating in your veins and the air in your lungs. I sense agitation in you. You aren’t afraid now, are you?” The tentative tone sounded incongruous in his deep voice.