My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding (A Biker Witches Novel)
Page 22
“How’s my hair?” my mom asked me, tucking a few strands behind her ear, missing the large chunk standing up in the back.
That’s when I saw Dimitri stagger out from behind Flappy. He looked a little worse for wear, even though he wore a new tux. The shirt was buttoned only part of the way up, exposing his upper chest and throat. The dragon licked him, and rolled onto his back for a belly scratch, as if he hadn’t probably been trying to eat my fiancé a minute or two ago.
“Thank heaven,” he headed toward me, and I met him halfway, glad he was still in one piece. It was a miracle we all were.
He hugged me tight, and I savored the feel of him, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.
When I at last drew back, I had to ask, “where’d you get the new tux?”
He shook his head and drew a bow tie out of his pocket. “Antonio had one stashed, in case that date you’re supposed to get him with Dyonne goes really, really well.”
Mrs. VanWillen moved to stand next to mom. “I’ve heard of the earthquakes in California,” she tsked. “What will you do now?”
I drew back from Dimitri. “We’re going to do the wedding anyway. Mom picked out the perfect spot,” I said, watching her blush.
“Yes,” Dimitri agreed. “And while not even Hillary can plan around earthquakes, everyone we love is here, and this is where we want to be.”
Hillary beamed. The society folk clapped politely and the biker witches started clearing chairs. Meanwhile, Dimitri cleaned up and a few of my in-laws managed to put out a few small fires we’d neglected to worry about.
A few minutes later, Pirate had retrieved the ring pillow and our loved ones began gathering with us in the former herb garden.
Dimitri and I stood at the center, holding hands as everyone surrounded us. My father stood at my left. My mother stood at my right. Rachmort eased his way past Aunt Ophelia, digging in his pockets for his glasses. They were broken. He put them on anyway.
He gave us a warm smile. At last, everything was as it should be. “Welcome family and friends,” he began, reading with the intact lower part of his bifocals. “We are here today to celebrate the joining of Lizzie and Dimitri. I’ve watched both of them as they’ve grown to love each other, and I can’t think of a more suitable,” he paused, looking over the destruction, “loving place for them to be.” He glanced out over the crowd. “You helped make it that way.”
A cold nose nudged me under my dress. Pirate gazed up at me. “Psst. Lizzie! I’ve got the rings!”
He didn’t. But I managed to pry the plastic ones off his pillow anyway.
Rachmort cleared his throat. “Elizabeth Gertrude Brown, do you take Dimitri Helios Kallinikos to be your lawfully wedded husband, now and forever?”
“I do,” I said. Dimitri was much, much more than that. He was the keeper of my soul.
My father handed me the real ring. I’d chosen a simple gold band, engraved with our names inside. I slipped it onto Dimitri’s finger, and his hands closed around mine. Then we both smiled as I added the plastic one onto his pinkie. It had to be good luck if Pirate hadn’t lost it.
“Dimitri Helios Kallinikos, do you take Elizabeth Gertrude Brown to be your lawfully wedded wife, now and forever?”
“I do,” he said, “with all my heart,” as he touched the skye stones on my ring and kissed me.
***
The catering tent had been destroyed in the mob action at the start of my wedding, but lucky for us, the biker witches still had all of the supplies they’d gathered for the post-wedding kegger.
They’d strung lights up over the back porch, tapped the keg and placed Dimitri and me in the lawn chairs of honor. Mine even had a white and silver bow.
You’re My Best Friend by Queen blared out over the speakers. Dimitri’s in-laws danced on the lawn, while Diana and Dyonne fended off a couple of suitors who had crashed the wedding, perhaps hoping Rachmort would perform an extra ceremony or two.
“I wonder what happened to Neal,” I said. His garage band was supposed to play this gig.
Dimitri shook his head. “Neal’s always late. I think the party will survive without him.”
The Pabst Blue Ribbon was certainly flowing. Hillary held out her cup while Cliff manned the tap. “I haven’t done this since college,” she giggled.
The Rodgersons and the VanWillens stood out on the grass by the slip-n-slide, oohing and aahing over the creative entertainment, while Frieda and a bunch of other biker witches got mostly soaked. The rest of the society mavens wondered at a “completely devious and intoxicating” new snack that Ant Eater had dubbed, “pelures de porc.”
Meanwhile, I accepted a plastic cup from Grandma and watched her plop down with us. I was truly lucky to have these people in my life. This is all I’d wanted, a place where we could all come together.
I took a sip of beer. “You look beat,” I told her.
She swore. “Being possessed does that to a person.”
“Do you even know when it started?” Dimitri asked, twining his fingers in mine.
She shook her head. “It had to be right after we got here. I was losing hours, stumbling around. I knew Zatar had done something to me, but he made it impossible to say anything. Then Ant Eater confronted me, and he got her, too. It spread like a disease.”
Dimitri squeezed my hand. “The dress was my first clue.”
Grandma winced. “It was designed to weaken her.” She turned to me. “ Zatar wanted to take your power, your soul at the wedding. He needed all of us eventually, but your demon slayer energy was key. He didn’t want you fighting back.” She took a swig of her drink. “The poison would have blended into the material better. But you tried it on right away.”
Ha. Well, “I was angry.”
She harrumphed. “Pissed is more like it.” She frowned. “The curses were supposed to weaken you, too. Or else they would have killed mister hot stuff over here,” she said, glancing at Dimitri.
“It was worth the risk,” he said, as if we weren’t talking about his life.
Did I know how to pick them or what?
Creely walked over, the bottom of her shirt full of pork rinds. “Have the corn dogs come out yet?”
Grandma shrugged. “Ask Melody. She’s manning the kitchen.”
Creely cursed. “She’s probably in there eating them.”
Grandma grinned. “Creely here was one of the last to fall.”
“No kidding?” The engineering witch stood a little taller. “I didn’t feel it.”
Grandma rolled her eyes. “You’re too damned logical. Your mind has no cracks.” Creely smiled at that. Then frowned when Grandma added, “Zatar got you when you sat down and got all misty eyed in the fourth row.”
Aww…Creely cared.
She made a break for the corn dogs.
“Sorry about your emerald,” Grandma said.
I ran a finger over the stone. It had healed itself, but there was a soft line running through it where the gash had been. “It gives it personality.” And it had survived. We all had.
My mom dragged a half-burned wedding chair over to our little group and sat down. “Are we safe now?” she asked, doing a butt dance in her seat, “because I have a surprise for you.”
The back door opened and Melody the weapons witch came out, holding an artfully stacked tray of Twinkies. They were shaped into an “L” and a “D.”
“It was the only thing they had,” mom said, quickly, “but if you get closer, you can see I made little doves out of wrapping paper.”
“Martha Stewart, eat your heart out,” I said, leaning over to hug her.
“This is a nice party,” she said, sitting back, content.
“Now it is.” We’d freed the ghost. We’d lifted the darkness.
“All you have left is the honeymoon,” my mom teased.
That was one secret I didn’t see when I’d entered Dimitri’s head. I turned to him. “Where are we going?”
“Hyperborea,” he answered trium
phantly.
“Hypo-what?” Grandma asked. “What about Vegas or something?”
Too many demons. “I thought Hyperborea was mythical,” I said.
Dimitri grinned. “I told you it would be some place fun. It’s the griffin version of Monaco,” he said proudly, “only less crowded.”
“And I think the food’s better,” Pirate said, curling around my feet.
“You’ve never been there,” I told him. He was my dog. I’d have known.
“No, but I licked the brochures,” he said happily. “Did you know they talk to dogs there? And they let dragons stay in your hotel room!”
I turned to Dimitri. “We are not taking the dragon on our honeymoon.”
“He’s family,” Dimitri said, drawing me out of my chair. “Besides, they have special activities for the pets. They can run the obstacle courses, and we’ll sneak back to the room. It’ll be perfect. You’ll see.”
I looked deep into his eyes and saw the love I’d sought my whole life. I was humbled and touched by his pure acceptance of me as a person, and at that moment I knew. “It will be perfect because I’ll be there with you.”
About the Author
Angie Fox is the New York Times bestselling author of several books about vampires, werewolves and things that go bump in the night. She claims that researching her stories can be just as much fun as writing them. In the name of fact-finding, Angie has ridden with Harley biker gangs, explored the tunnels underneath Hoover Dam and found an interesting recipe for Mamma Coalpot’s Southern Skunk Surprise (she’s still trying to get her courage up to try it).
Angie earned a Journalism degree from the University of Missouri. She worked in television news and then in advertising before beginning her career as an author. Visit Angie at www.angiefox.com
More books by Angie Fox
The Accidental Demon Slayer series
The Accidental Demon Slayer
The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers
A Tale of Two Demon Slayers
The Last of the Demon Slayers
My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding
The Monster MASH trilogy
Immortally Yours
Immortally Embraced
Immortally Ever After
Short Stories
Gentlemen Prefer Voodoo
Love Bites
Murder on Mysteria Lane (from The Real Werewives of Vampire County anthology)
What Slays in Vegas (from the So I Married a Demon Slayer anthology)
To learn more about upcoming releases, sign up for Angie’s quarterly newsletter at www.angiefox.com