The chapel is filled with the scent of beeswax and the lemon polish they must use on the floors. The altar is simple, but there are two huge flower baskets there filled with peonies, roses, and silver-grey sprigs of Russian sage.
Ava finally notices all the subtle changes around us. “Do we need to leave?” she asks. “It looks like they're getting ready for something.”
I take her hands and pull her to sit down with me. “We are ‘the something’ that’s happening,” I say calmly.Bozhe moy,she's adorable when she frowns, that little furrow between her brows.
“What does that mean?”
“The threats are more serious than I've told you,” I say quietly. “It is my job to protect the innocent affected by our world. It is also my job to be honest when I must. You being an honored guest of our family was made clear, and it held off some of the violence, but not at all. We’ve stopped two attempted attacks on you. Unfortunately, we are no closer to finding out who is behind them.”
She makes a little choking sound and for a moment, I feel guilty putting this burden on her. “I see,” she says faintly. “Are we here because you're going to hide me in St. Petersburg?”
I arch a brow, a bit surprised. “Would you accept it?”
“I'd hate it,” she replies honestly. “As beautiful as the city is, I'm a stranger here. I have no purpose. At least at home, I can work with your mother.” She takes a step away from me, rubbing her arms. “But I also don't want anyone dying for me.”
“People will die, Ava, for whatever cause they believe in. Or, for whoever pays the most money,” I add cynically. “The one standard that everyone in the crime world agrees on, are noattacks against wives and children. There are still a bestial few that would try, but the condemnation from the other crime families would be brutal. They would never find another ally. Every organization would turn on them.”
She sways a bit, like a flower in the wind and I squeeze her hands tighter, waiting for her to take a deep breath. “What are you telling me?” she asks. “I'm not your wife.”
“You're about to be.” I say it as a promise. It might sound like a threat to Ava, I don't know. But it is my most sacred vow.
“I can't- we don't-” She looks around a little wildly and Roman and the father halt their conversation to watch us. “This is nuts!”
“Your look of horror is very flattering,” I say dryly.
“You can'twantto marry me,” she snaps. “Is this from some misguided sense of duty on your part? Because… because your mother likes me?”
“This is the best - and at this point - the only way I have of keeping you safe,” I say, trying to radiate calm.
I don't tell her how much I want her. Or that too much of my time is devoted to thinking about her, the thoughts constantly circling my mind of all the different ways Ava could be taken and hurt. That I love her.
“Father Artur will marry us tonight. Roman is our witness,” I explain. “The marriage will be legally recognized both here in Russia, as well as in the United States.”
“We'd just… show up back home, waving our wedding rings and saying… What? How do we explain this?”
“We'll have a large, elaborate party in New York to celebrate our hasty wedding," I say. "We'll explain that we were too passionately in love to wait."
Now, she yanks her hands out of mine. “This is too much.” Her gaze sweeps the chapel, looking for exits and I turn slightly, so that she's forced to look at me again.
“Ava. This is the only way,” I say. “I give you my word that I will keep you safe. I’ll do everything in my power to find these fuc-“ I pause, “these people. But I can't be worrying about you every moment while I do it.”
“I don't understand how a wedding ring will magically protect me." Her voice is high and squeaky, she stops to clear her throat. “I'm clear that I don't know all the rules of your world, but I don't see how this could change anything.”
“You'll have to trust me that it does,” I say. “This will effectively isolate the trafficking ring. Nobody is going to back them if they continue to go after you. And they know this. Say yes.” I take her hand again. “Say yes, and give me room to work.”
“What if I say no?” Her voice is barely a whisper, but I hear each word ring sharp, and loud.
“You won't,” I say calmly, even though my demon is raging, battering against the walls of my control. “You may not be from our world, but you're smart. You have lived through some of the worst of it. You'll say yes.”
She looks at me, and then at the priest, who’s watching us with concern. “This is temporary, right? I mean, this isn't one of those spooky 'mafia married for life' rituals?”
I force myself to smile and for the first time, I lie to her. “You’ve been reading too many books. Say yes, even if it is yes, for now.”So many expressions flash across her beautiful face. Shock. Anxiety. Fear. Anticipation, perhaps? Then, acceptance and she nods.
I have to help her rise. She's a bit unsteady on her feet, and I slide my arm around her waist as we walk up to the altar where Roman and Father Artur are waiting.
“Mrs. Ivanova, will you stay and act as a witness?” Father Artur calls over to the woman sternly lighting the candles. She folds her hands over her black dress and nods stiffly, but I see a tiny smile curling in the corner of her mouth. Who knew? Mrs. Ivanova must be a bit of a romantic.
"Do you come here, Ava Birmingham Blue and Dmitri Maksim Morozov, of your own free will?" Father Artur asks.
