“And in honor of the occasion, we’re even allowed to smoke cigars in the house.” Derek passed around the humidor and a lighter.
Based on the fact that he and Vince both smelled strongly of tobacco, they’d started that part of the evening before Greg had come down. He took a cigar and pulled a chair up to one of the poker tables, between Derek and George.
“You know, your grandfather’s been trying to talk me into replacing my father-in-law as bodyguard,” Derek said a little later. “He doesn’t seem to get that I’d rather fight in the courtroom than with my fangs.”
“The Bartoks have been the betas to the Novaks for a lot of generations.” Greg called the bet and puffed on his cigar. “Since Peter only has daughters, and you are family, it’s no big surprise the old man would tap you. Just say no. There’s no reason you should do anything you don’t have to.”
“Now if it was you, I could maybe see myself doing it,” Derek whispered. “But I don’t think I could stand being the old bastard’s personal bruiser.”
“No, me neither.” Greg rubbed his hands over his eyes. “With luck, the old man will live another twenty years, so we won’t have to worry about it for a while. Meanwhile, I’ll try to point him at someone else when Peter retires. There’s got to be someone.”
“Thanks, cuz.” Derek folded, and so did Greg.
As Vince raked in the pot, Greg couldn’t help thinking. His grandfather was eighty-three. Living to the century mark wasn’t uncommon for lupines, but it wasn’t guaranteed, either. Derek’s grandfather, the old man’s younger brother, was gone. So was Greg’s own father. It was altogether possible that one day soon, Greg would have to step up and take responsibility for the packs. He’d have to stop and think about who he’d want as his betas when he did. Hell, with kids on the way, he’d have to think about things like trust funds and a will.
Tonight, though, all he really wanted to think about was Fee. Even that didn’t cheer him up any. He’d put her in danger just by getting involved with her, and tomorrow they would be mated when he wasn’t really sure she wanted to be. That was enough to drive any werewolf to drink.
By the time Greg finally made his way back upstairs to his room, he was reeling a little. It took a lot of liquor to get a lupine drunk, but they’d been pouring vodka down his throat all night. He hadn’t fought very hard. Another good thing about the werewolf constitution was that he’d be stone sober with no trace of a hangover by morning.
When he got to his room, he saw a pile of boxes, spilling out tissue paper and silky bits of fabric. Right. Bridal shower. He looked forward to seeing some of those scraps on Fee’s creamy skin. What he didn’t see in the room was Fee. He checked the bathroom, too. Nada. She was still weak and ought to be asleep by now. Where the hell was she?
He pounded on the door of Lana’s room.
“What?” His cousin peeked her nose out the door.
“I can’t find Fee.” He stumbled and caught himself against the door frame.
Lana pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh out loud. “She’s asleep. You’re not supposed to see her tomorrow until the wedding. Remember?”
“That’s bullshit.” Who’d come up with that stupid tradition anyway? “She belongs with me.”
“Shhh. You’ll wake her—and everyone else on this floor.”
“Don’t care.” He stared down his cousin. “Bring her out or I come in and get her.”
“It’s okay, Lana.” Apparently they’d already woken Fee. She slipped around Lana and out the door, dressed in an ankle-length cotton nightgown. “I couldn’t sleep without him anyway. I think with everything else that’s gone crazy about this wedding, this is one more tradition we can skip.” She hugged Lana and wrapped an arm around Greg’s waist. “Come on, big guy, let’s get you into bed before you fall over.”
“I’m not that drunk.” He wasn’t. Well, not entirely. He didn’t stagger at all now that he had Fee back by his side. “Didn’t want to sleep alone.”
“Well, I wasn’t looking forward to sharing a bed with your cousin, either.” Without another word, she closed the door and climbed into bed, watching with a smile while he stripped off his clothes and shoes.
“You’re not keeping that granny gown on, are you?” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I promise not to pester you. I know you still need some rest, but I’ve already gotten used to feeling your skin against mine.”
“And I can count on you to keep me warm.” She wiggled out of the nightgown and tossed it into a corner. “Now get under the covers. I’ve gotten used to you, too. And I have the feeling tomorrow’s going to be an awfully busy day.”
“Oh, yeah.” He hoped they didn’t run her too ragged—he was kind of looking forward to a real wedding night. Crawling under the covers, he took her in his arms. Now he’d finally be able to relax. “I wanted you to know, Fee. I’m looking forward to marrying you. We didn’t exactly plan things this way, but I’m not sorry at all. I really am happy about tomorrow.”
His only answer was a soft snuffle as she snuggled into his chest, already asleep.
Chapter Eleven
Her wedding day was a perfect example of Indian summer in Michigan. The late October chill had receded, the sun shone brightly, and the weather was warm enough to be outside without coats.
This was good since Fianna had been told the actual mating ceremony had to be held outdoors. She had the white velvet wrap to wear over her strapless gown, but that wouldn’t have been enough had the temperature been any colder. Werewolves weren’t particularly susceptible to the cold, but she’d been raised Underhill, which had a much milder climate.
As soon as he’d showered and shaved, Greg was sent packing, to finish getting ready in George and Jase’s room down the hall. Immediately, Fianna was descended upon by Lana, Katy, Lana’s mother and even Katy’s mother-in-law, Irene. They’d all been so kind at last night’s impromptu bridal shower that Fianna didn’t have any qualms about accepting their assistance and support as she prepared for the afternoon ceremony. The skimpy lingerie, massage oils and even sex toys included among the gifts were a little embarrassing, but she recognized the gesture as a rite of passage among women and accepted them with laughter and gratitude.
Fianna found herself as pampered as if she’d been at the finest spa. Fruit and cheese trays were served in the room along with orange juice and sparkling water. Once she emerged from the bath and dressed in her long-line strapless bra and crinoline, they descended on her with creams and nail files and brushes. All she had to do was sit in a chair with her feet up and choose colors. She was happy, she realized with some surprise. Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen head over heels in love with Greg and today they would be married. He might not love her yet, but she thought he would in time. It would have to be enough.
A knock at the door heralded one of the maids with a silver tray. A box of expensive chocolates sat on it, along with a spray of white roses. “A gift from one of the gentlemen,” the maid said with a blush. “I’m not supposed to say which one.”
Greg, of course. He knew her weakness for fine chocolate. Fianna sniffed the flowers and allowed Lana to set them on the dressing table. She lifted the lid on the chocolates, promising herself she’d have just one. Unaccountably, her stomach turned. Could the pregnancy already be affecting her appetite? Probably not. More than likely it was nerves.
“These smell funny,” Lana said after she’d picked one up. “I’ll bet he found a stash that had been in storage too long. We’ll pitch them and you can tell Greg we scarfed the whole box.”
“Agreed.” Fianna leaned back and looked down at Katy, who was polishing her toes. “Silver?”
“Well, you need a little sparkle, don’t you?” With a grin, Fianna’s future cousin-in-law went back to work. While she painted a layer of topcoat on Fianna’s sparkly silver toenail polish, another gentle tap sounded at the door. This time, Lana opened it to admit her grandmother.
“I know you sai
d this wouldn’t suit, but I thought you might like to see it. Perhaps you’ve changed your mind.” She held up a waist-length veil of sheer white lace, attached to an elegantly simple tiara. Fianna assumed it was platinum, since werewolves couldn’t abide the touch of silver. Inset with numerous cabochon moonstones, the tiara alone had to have been worth a fortune.
“It is lovely.” Fianna reached out a freshly dried French-manicured fingertip to touch the handmade lace. This was clearly a peace offering. “I’d be honored, Mrs. Novak.”
“Grandmother, please.” The older woman smiled and laid the veil carefully on the dresser top. “Thank you, dear.”
They’d told her last night that moonstones held great significance in werewolf culture. Lana’s shower gift had been a pair of platinum-and-moonstone earrings. Katy had bought her the matching bracelet. Apparently they’d cornered the jeweler when he’d come to let Lana select Greg’s wedding band. Whether by design or good fortune, their gifts would go beautifully with the tiara.
Katy used a hairdryer on Fianna’s pedicure while Irene stood behind Fianna’s chair and began to brush out her hair. “Your hair is lovely up, but today I think you should leave it long, with the front pulled back a little to frame your face and hold the veil in place.”
“Whatever you think is best.” She wasn’t going to argue with the woman kind enough to take the place of a hairdresser. While she’d always worn her hair up for formal occasions in the past, perhaps this was appropriate for today, the start of her new life. She wasn’t the same person anymore, and not only because of the magic. Being with humans and lupines had changed her. Being with Greg and his family had changed her even more. So much that she could barely believe her good fortune. Surely she didn’t deserve the happiness of being married to Greg. She kept watching over her shoulder for something, anything to go wrong.
Several hours later she was escorted into the garden by Aidan. She still half expected something awful to happen but was beginning to believe the wedding would actually take place.
The garden was beautiful. Potted flowers had been brought in to line the space and a white carpet had been rolled out between two sets of chairs. Greg waited under an ivy-covered latticework archway, unbelievably handsome in his tuxedo, and attended by George, Derek, Des and Jase, each in their own interpretation of formal wear, and each handsome in his own right.
Fianna winced. Vince was supposed to have been there. Instead, Des stood between Derek and Jase. Vince had gotten more and more unreliable lately. Something weird was going on with him and it was liable to break Greg’s heart. Thankfully for today, however, Greg had so many friends willing to step in.
Ric played his guitar softly as Katy, Meagan and Elise each walked down the aisle between the twenty or so other guests, preceded by Dina and Kevin. There hadn’t been time to coordinate bridesmaid dresses, so each woman had worn a formal gown of their own choosing in shades of blue from royal to midnight. Somehow the ensemble worked, and they all looked marvelous. Lana, in skin-tight sapphire velvet, gave Fianna a quick kiss on the cheek before taking her turn as maid of honor.
Fianna clutched her bouquet of white lilies and forget-me-nots in one hand and Aidan’s arm in the other as they walked. Camera buttons clicked as someone took photographs.
“Head up, Fianna,” Aidan whispered. “You deserve to be happy, and so does Greg. Don’t let anything take that away from you. Smile.”
Greg certainly deserved to be happy, which meant he probably deserved better than being shackled to her. But he was determined to go through with this, so she wasn’t about to leave him at the altar. She lifted her chin and stepped slowly down the carpet, her eyes fixed on Greg and a brilliant smile on her face. The smile wasn’t forced. All she had to do was focus on Greg, forget about the rest of the world and let herself be happy. He was stunning in his tux, with his hair hanging sleekly to his shoulders. His smile when he saw her was so broad she thought her heart might burst.
The archway where Greg and his uncle Max waited was set off the carpet on a patch of bare soil. At the end of the rug, Aidan handed her off to Greg, said the appropriate words to Max and took his seat.
From the moment her hands touched Greg’s, nothing else mattered but him.
“Life is a cycle,” Max began, his voice strong and sonorous. Since werewolves were not typically religious, he performed most of the weddings for the Novak pack. His eyes focused on Fianna and Greg rather than on the book in front of him, which he’d clearly memorized. “Like the seasons of the year, birth, mating and death all follow one another. As these things are part of the natural order, so are we all as one with the Earth.” He stepped back onto the bare soil, barefoot.
Fianna handed her bouquet to Lana so she could slip off her sandals. Greg slid out of his loafers, as well. Together, they stepped onto the freshly turned ground, which was surprisingly warm under their feet.
“As your blood mingles with the Earth and with that of each other, so too will you mingle with each other, in heart, mind and spirit, your fates forever entwined.”
Pulling a ceremonial silver-tipped dagger, he reached first for Greg’s left hand and made a small slit in the palm. Greg bore the pain without wincing and turned his palm downward so a few drops of blood fell to the ground. Fianna had been coached. She held out her right hand and did the same.
After each had shed a small amount of blood into the dirt, Max took a white rope. Greg lifted Fianna’s hand and twined their fingers together, lining up the nicks in their palms. The knife had been silver, she knew, so that Greg’s wound wouldn’t heal itself before the ceremony was even over.
Max looked out over the crowd and recited his next line. “Before I bind these two as mates for life, does anyone wish to present any objections?”
“Oh, hell, yes.”
A collective gasp filled the air as everyone turned to look at Vince, standing beside the back door of the house, his hands in his pockets.
“You were supposed to eat the damned chocolates, bitch.” He pulled something from his pocket. “Now this is going to get messy.”
“Grenade,” yelled one of the staff members and everyone started to scramble away. Simultaneously, the groomsmen clustered around little Kevin and the bridesmaids shoved Dina and Meagan to the rear. Ric dropped his guitar and materialized a sword.
“Vince, what the fuck?” Greg shoved Fianna behind him.
“She has to die, man. You’re supposed to marry Sof.” He pulled the pin from the grenade and started to throw it.
“Got it.” Aidan stood, the grenade now in his hand—apparently Vince had forgotten or not been aware of the Fae power to blink small objects. He blinked it away. “Some fish in the middle of the Atlantic are going to be pissed.”
Meanwhile, Vince had leaped down the carpet. This time he had a gun in his hand. “I can’t let her live. They’ll cut off my supply.”
“Enough.” A shot rang out and Vince dropped like a rock.
Ivan stood on the white runner, a smoking pistol in his hand. Fianna peeked around Greg to see that half of Vince’s head was gone.
The scene spun as Fianna was swamped by dizziness and nausea. Barely able to stand, she ran from Greg and threw up in a rosebush. Only afterward did she notice he was still with her, holding her up and keeping her hair and veil back from her face.
“Peter, isn’t this what I pay you for?” Ivan’s voice boomed. “Take care of this mess. Is anybody else hurt?”
There was a general murmur that no, nobody was. People began to return to the area, and Fianna felt Greg’s hands on her shoulders. “You all right?”
Fianna nodded. “Yes.” She looked around for something to wipe her mouth with, just as Meagan stepped over with a bottle of water and a washcloth. “Thanks.”
Lana stood beside her, a worried expression on her face. “I noticed something in his scent—I think Vince was on the drugs.”
“Probably,” Greg agreed with a rasp in his voice that Fianna strongly suspected was t
ears. Greg had loved Vince like a brother. The betrayal must hurt unbearably. He cleared his throat and added, “We can talk about that later.”
“Aidan and Ric are helping with the clean up.” Elise, with Dina in her arms, joined them. She laid a hand on Fianna’s shoulder and Fianna felt her nausea disappear. “Greg, your grandfather thinks you should go ahead and finish the wedding as quickly as possible.”
“We can do the rest inside the house.” He chafed one of Fianna’s arms. “Fee’s cold.”
“Well, the ballroom is already set up for the reception,” Katy said. When had she come over? “Come on, Fee, let’s get you inside and warm you up while the rest of us move chairs.”
“No.” Fianna straightened and squeezed Greg’s arm. “Your pack holds weddings outside. Let’s finish this now. I don’t want to let him ruin this for us.”
Greg took hold of her chin and looked into her eyes. “You’re sure?” His were dark with pain and…love?
Fianna touched his cheek and smiled. “I am.”
“Then let’s put those chairs back in place.”
“Let me get that blood off your dress.” Elise swiped her hand over the skirt of Fianna’s gown, where the cut on her hand had smeared it, and handed her a handkerchief. “Wrap this around your hand until you’re ready to finish the ceremony. You, too.” She handed another one to Greg.
“What about—Vince?” Fianna asked. She felt a little light-headed even thinking about blood at the moment. “Did he—the blood—get on anyone?”
“We told you, the guys have it covered,” Meagan assured her. “These wolves are learning that having us magic types around can come in handy now and then.”
“Yeah, I’m kind of getting used to it.” Greg kissed the top of her head.
“Gregory, are you ready?” Ivan stepped over. He put his hand on Fianna’s shoulder. “You are unhurt?”
“I am, thanks to you.” On impulse, she leaned up to kiss the old werewolf’s leathery cheek. “Thank you.”
Motor City Wolf Page 16