“Oh. You thought I didn’t plan— No. You knew I’d handle security, even without going over the details with you—” he stopped, the words cut off. “No way. Bridal jitters?You?”
“Attack on an Alabama highways. Quint. Blood. Coulda been dead. No vamp near to turn her. No medic close. Got me on edge.”
Eli tilted his head in an expression I didn’t understand but I caught the kindness and the certainty in his soul. “We got you, Janie. We all got you.” Like the military gentleman he was,Eli Younger held out an arm to me. I gathered up my train and took his arm.
The safest place on earth. I was an idiot.
I walked to the small room just off the entrance where the bride was supposed to wait. Eli pecked me on the cheek, his lips warm on my cold face, and slipped away. My bridesmaids and matron of honor descended on me again. This time I was totally okay with the girly crap. I let them take care of me. Let them boss me around. I let everyone else be in charge of this event and be in charge of me. I laughed and sipped some of the very good champagne. Everyone took pics, posed and random. Things to remember someday when Bruiser and I were old and gray.
Hey. Here I was being all positive, thinking we’d live long enough to become old and gray. That was a first.
Deon stuck his head in the door. “Your Maji—” He stopped the words and said, “Sorry. Janie? Are you ready?”
I waggled fingers, waving him inside. I felt the shock in the room and I grinned as I looked him over, head to toe.He was wearing a teal bedazzled tux, the color matching Molly’s and Angie’s dresses, with a peacock feather boa and a teal top hat with a two-foot-long peacock feather in it. He did a slow pirouette for me and paused, one hand in the air like a drag queen on stage, which he had been from time to time in his life. I clapped.
He preened. Bowed low. The peacock feather on his top hat brushed the floor.
“You look stunning,” I said. “I especially like the jewels on the lapels. Tres chic.”
“Iknewyou’d love it.” Deon had dressed to make me smile. To make me relax. His plan had worked. Everyone’s plans had worked. I was suddenly calm and satisfied and ready.
To get married.
“Girls. Go,” he said, snapping his fingers. They went, laughing and giggling and were suddenly gone. “Everyone’s in place, but you. Big Evan is ready to cast thehedgeworking. We’re all here. Quint is livestreaming, though muted, because she’s got a potty mouth when she’s doped on drugs and Koun’s blood. Oh, and your groom? He is todiefor. The ass on that man!”
I chuckled. “He does have the best butt ever.” It occurred to me that, had I eloped, my life would have been a lot easier but a lot more empty. Which brought tears to my eyes. Through them, I said, “I’m ready.” And I was.
Moments later the ward cast from the blood of my best friend’s husband shocked over us all and enclosed the chapel. Deon opened the door to the little room and made sure my dress was perfect, tugging and pulling and tweaking.
Music sounded in the background. Some kind of string quartet music, convoluted and elegant. Just like the man I was going to marry.
Holy crap. I’m getting married.
The I/we ofBeastis getting married,Beast thought at me, clarifying my meaning.
I hope Bruiser doesn’t change his mind. He should. He’d be smart to run. But I hope he stays.
We have best mate. Bruiser is best mate. Even better than Leo and Grégoire and RickyBo together.
Yeah. He is.
My heart beating too hard, too fast in my ribcage, I followed Deon out and let him put me in position. I could see the line of attendants ahead of me. My people were queued up in a non-traditional line. Our attendants were already family, already joined through life and death, battle and peace. They were to walk down the aisle all mixed up together and forma solid line all around the dais. There was no bride’s side and groom’s side. Just our side. Our side against the world.
The music changed as a piano with low deep tones joined in, the strings floating over it. My attendants started down the only aisle, led down the center of the chapel by Angie Baby, who threw scentless yellow rose petals with each step. As she walked, others traipsed in her wake.
A voice spoke.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mithrans and Witches, Paranormals, Supernaturals, and Others. Jane Yellowrock and George Dumas welcome you.”
My heart hit my feet. My bouquet tilted. I knew that voice.
Before the flowers hit the floor, Deon caught the bouquet with one hand and my wrist with his other. “He asked. With all royal propriety and solemnity.”
I met Deon’s calm eyes, a good foot lower than mine.
“Heasked,” he repeated, “if he could perform the ceremony. You didn’t want to be involved in any preparations.Isaid yes.”
“Well, that sucks. Leo,Leo Pellissier, is here, to marry me, to Bruiser?”
