I straightened. I’d pretend that nothing was the matter. Like this had been my plan all along. What else could I do? Despite things cooling between me and Lizzy, no amount of explanation would justify running off and marrying Lydia in Lizzy’s mind, especially considering how protective Lizzy was of her younger sisters.
And Lydia… she ought to hate me, and maybe by the end of the night she would, though the thought made my chest clench with an ache I tried to ignore.
I already knew my role in this story. I was the villain.
Lydia’s brows scrunched together. “The shop is dark. That’s odd. It’s business hours. Unless…” She grabbed her phone and pulled up her calendar. “Oh yes! The Winter Festival is today! Everyone is at Regency Meadows Park. Should we head over there?”
“I don’t know.” Showing up at her family’s place and explaining what happened was nerve-racking enough, but announcing our marriage to the entire town wasn’t what I had in mind.
“That is why we got married, right? To prove we have a reasonable alibi?” she pressed, reading my reaction a little too well. “Why hide it when that was the point?”
It was the point in the hopes that the police would find the killer, but they hadn’t. Lydia and I had tracked down the killer. Well, mostly Lydia. “Everything is over and done now,” I said. “You found the murderer, and we don’t need to pretend anymore.”
We’d found the culprit and called the police. The killer was safely behind bars, and it was time for things to go back to normal.
Flaunting our marriage around Austen Heights hadn’t been in my plans. Especially in front of the other vampires that would most likely be present.
“We weren’texactlypretending, were we? I thought we were at least trying this out. Besides”—Lydia shrugged—“I told Kitty, and she would’ve told Mom, which means the whole town knows by now.”
If that were true, perhaps I could use the festival as a sort of damage control. And if Lydia’s family was there, I could still gather the information I needed. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Yes!” Lydia said as we pulled back onto the street. The drive to Regency Meadows Park was brief, and by the looks of things, the Winter Festival was well underway. Children and teens engaged in an epic snowball fight with a bunch of enchanted snowmen. A number of stands dotted the snowy field, each featuring a magical warming bench that kept the area surrounding it several degrees warmer without dissolving the snow. I parked on the street that ran along the park.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Lydia bit her lip and smiled as she opened her door. I exited on the other side. A moment later, she slipped on the ice. I was next to her in an instant, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. My vampire speed made me nearly invisible when I used it.
She looked up into my face, a grin lighting her lips despite almost breaking her neck a second ago. She pressed closer to me, and her quickened pulse became drums in my ears. Her blue eyes, like the bluest diamonds, flickered with something dark. “Well, hi there.”
Her scent washed over me, and for a moment I stared into her beautiful face and breathed her in. But then I stepped back from the warmth of my own heightened awareness. “Watch the ice.”
She raised an eyebrow, her rosy lips curling flirtatiously. “Why should I watch the ice when you’ll be there to catch me if I fall?”
“I may not always be there,” I said quietly.
She frowned but didn’t respond as we made our way through the different stands and groups of people in winter attire. We passed Charlotte Collins’s stand, where she sold candles carved in the shape of snowflakes. Mayor Pembroke strode around in her frost-marked cloak that shimmered like mist when the sun hit it. Her skirt had tiny icicles attached that clinked together.
“There they are! The couple of the hour! Everyone is talking about you.” Bradley, my best friend, came up to us wearing alarge coat, earmuffs, and skinny jeans. A fellow vampire and bandmate, I’d texted him that we were on our way back.
“Hey Bradley,” I said. “How are things?”
“Considering people are killing off members of the Grey Doors, I’m not doing so great.” Bradley was the lead guitarist in our band. He looked around as if he thought that at any moment someone might pop out from behind a stand and plunge a stake into his heart.
“We solved that,” I said. “I mean Lydia solved it.”
His eyes grew bigger. “How do you mean, solved?”
“We found the culprit and made sure they couldn’t murder again,” Lydia said.
He nodded. “That’s a relief. I’m glad you found the killer. But I’m still sad we lost Alex and Tim.” He wiped a hand across his forehead. “Who was it?”
I looked around us at the crowd and lowered my voice. “I’ll tell you later.”
Bradley nodded, letting it drop. He picked up on the way Lydia had draped her hand over my arm, not so conspicuously showing off her ring. “And felicitations on your marriage! I’m sure Lydia was the loveliest bride. I want to hear all about it.”
Lydia smiled and opened her mouth to respond. No doubt to give him every tiny detail.
“Another time.” I turned to Lydia. “Do you see your family?”
“I’ll check. I’m sure they’re here.” She squinted, searching through the crowd of people.
