I knew my smile was tight, because my nerves were jangling. Was something wrong, or was it just wedding jitters?
“This is the part where I’ll ask everyone to be seated,” Hera said. And then both of you can, yes, just stand like that. Good. I’ll give you a second to just breathe, and I’ll inhale,” she did so, “and exhale. Just follow me. After that we’ll be off to the races. Ready?”
“Inhale, exhale,” Ryder said. “We got that.”
“Delaney?” Hera asked.
“Breathe. Super easy.”
“This, then,” Hera said, raising her voice enough to be heard by the back of the room, and still somehow feeling like she was only talking to Ryder and me, “is a beginning. A moment suspended in time to mark and hold a vow of love, of loyalty, of devotion.”
Ryder’s gaze was unwavering, and I could not look away from him.
The man I loved, had always loved for all these years was standing here with me, pledging to stay with me, to give me his life, just as I would give him my life, to build with me something only we two could share, no matter if there was sickness or health.
Hera’s words blurred. The whole room blurred because there were tears in my eyes. If there were more than just Ryder and me in this bubble of space, in this very private connection, I could neither see nor hear them.
“Wait,” Jean said from miles and miles behind me. “I feel sick.”
A crowd burst into the room, screaming, cheering, chanting. I felt like I’d tipped over a great dreaming edge and had suddenly landed in cold water.
The room was chaos.
Two or three hundred people were running across the floor, pushing to get through the doors, a raging, smashing mosh pit.
I didn’t know what was happening.
Then Patrick was there. “My fans,” he said, wild-eyed. He grabbed Ryder, pushing Ryder in front of him like a human shield, while dragging him back and back away from us.
“No!” Jean yelled. “Delaney, stop him!”
Myra was in front of me somehow, running, but she tripped—Myra never tripped—and stumbled before reaching Patrick and Ryder.
Ryder shoved away from Baum, but Patrick was fast. He pulled a knife, held it to Ryder’s throat, then gave me a wink.
“Surrender Ordinary to the King, or Ryder dies. You have one day.”
I ran, Hera ran, Crow and Odin ran. We never had a chance.
Patrick disappeared in a snap, taking Ryder with him. They were gone almost before the last word left his mouth.
And just like that, the crowd slowed, quieted. They milled around for a moment.
I heard, “flash mob,” and, “hope I’m in his video,” and, “don’t know where the cameras were,” and, “great disappearing trick” and other variations of that, and knew Patrick had set it up. A crowd of fans hoping to be part of his show, and all they had to do was run into a room and act like a wild, cheering mob.
All they had to do was create enough chaos, Patrick could steal my fiancé, and drag him to hell.
My ears were ringing. I thought I was shaking, shivering. I didn’t think I was breathing, wasn’t even sure if I was still standing.
I clenched my fist, my gut going hot, and that heat spread over me. Anger. Fury. Rage.
The rage burned through me, until every inch of my mind and body felt alive, violent, pure, and just.
Then the fire subsided, leaving me forged, cold, and unbreakable.
Chapter Fourteen
It had happened in a moment,just seconds at the most.
