Chapter 2
Oh,man! Darci rubbed her damp palms down her jeans, still wrapped in a miasma of happiness. She was getting married in twelve days.
Two and a half years ago she’d thrown away the scrapbook of her dream wedding in a fit of despair, believing she’d never get married since she didn’t seem capable of falling in love. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried. Then she met Blaéz…
A soft smile touched her mouth. He was everything she’d ever wanted, she just never expected to find him on her doorstep one midnight six months ago.
However, her excitement faded a little as she roamed past the fireplace in the massive, two-story library with its vaulted, mural-painted ceiling, too edgy to remain still, her mind back on her brother.
Declan had taken an instant dislike to Blaéz the moment they met. Unknown to her, he’d already been aware of their bloodline’s dark prophecy—a fatal curse attached to the one woman born in every generation. As the current female alive, the prophecy stated that if she and an immortal Celtic warrior met, death would occur soon after she released his soul.
Blaéz hadn’t known about the curse initially, but he’d been furious that Declan had furtively set her up on a date with his friend to part them. However, Darci had refused to give Blaéz up, probably adding to her brother’s antagonism. Things had eventually worked out. Now, a tense truce existed between the two men.
It’s why she wanted the wedding to go off without a hitch. Maybe Declan would finally see just how happy Blaéz made her.
Sighing wearily, she stopped near the bolted French doors and stared out into the cold, gloomy night. With less than two weeks left to pull this off, she’d accomplished only half of the things on her to-do list because of jam-packed bookings due to the festive holidays. She still had the florist, caterers, and the wedding cake—darn! She pressed a hand to her suddenly woozy tummy. Twelve days wasn’t enough time.
C’mon, Callahan, you can do this. You worked in a library run like a boot camp. This should be a piece of cake.
Right. Determination driving her, Darci headed back to her mahogany desk and dropped down onto her seat, then took a huge gulp of her apple juice to fortify herself. She set the crystal on the wooden surface, her attention back on the list.
1:Dress.Check. Hopefully, she had one final fitting left.
2:Bridesmaids dresses.Check. Echo and Kira had been quite excited when she’d asked them to be her bridesmaids.
3:Caterers?She bit her lip. Two had told her they’d let her know, despite being fully booked. Tomorrow, she’d follow up.
4:Photographer?Daniel? Cell phone photos of her wedding—ugh! Wait, Shae worked as a photographic journalist, maybe she would do it? She’d ask her.
5:Church?Darci sighed. With the date so close, she really hoped Declan came through with a priest and church. Actually, it meant a lot to her that he’d offered to help.
6:Reception?Maybe they could have that at the church hall? She quickly sent a text message to her brother. Since it was her family’s old place of worship, she didn’t see a problem there.
7:Flowers?Confirmation tomorrow. Or she’d be having a flowerless wedding on the street if she couldn’t get a venue.
8:Cake.She only wantedFantasy Cakesto do her wedding cake since she first came across them in a magazine years ago. When the receptionist had called back and said there’d been a cancellation, Darci was ecstatic, considering they’d been fully booked. She got a date for an appointment, rang off, and then jumped up and did the happy dance.
Absently, she bit the blunt end of her pencil, her attention lowering to the page beneath her notes with the two drawn columns. She pulled out the guest lists and ran her gaze down the names. On her side, she had twenty-four people—family, friends, neighbors, and old colleagues.
However, studying Blaéz’s side of it, she worried her lip between her teeth. When she’d asked him, he’d shrugged and said that everyone at the castle was enough for him.
It totaled nine. Michael, Aethan, Echo, Týr, Dagan, Shae, Jenna, Kira, and Hedori. Nik had said he didn’t know if he could attend. The Guardian Race was a no-go. Apparently, he avoided cities and crowds like the plague—Blaéz’s words—if it wasn’t work-related. After meeting Blaéz and experiencing everything they’d been through with his ties to Hell and the demon after him, Darci realized it wasn’t personal. The warriors carried their very own nightmares from their time imprisoned in Tartarus.
She tapped the pencil against her lips. Blaéz had made no mention of his family. Finnén would be a definite no. As for his mother, Darci doubted very much that he’d invite The Morrigan, but she’d ask.
The loud ticking of the antique clock on the mantel pulled her out of her thoughts. Almost four a.m. Blaéz should be home soon. It amazed her how easily she’d gotten into the routine of working during the night and sleeping when Blaéz did—well, not that she had much choice when her warrior wanted her in bed beside him while he took his rest.
Smiling, she rose from her seat and gathered the old volumes from the table that Lore, a divine angel and Echo’s tutor, had used earlier. She made her way to the spiral staircase at the far end of the room that joined the upper level of the library to the ground floor. Stopping near the concealed doorway beneath the stairs, she nudged the panel between the books shelves with her elbow, and the door clicked open.
Soft footsteps sounded. Hedori came down the stairs, immaculate as usual, wearing a dark gray shirt and black pants. His steel colored hair was pulled back in a braid. “Let me help you with those.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m used—”
“Not if I’m around.” He took the books from her and followed her down the few steps into the underground level of the library.
The musty smell of aged paper and leather crowded her nose. Gloom surrounded her briefly before she switched on the sconce’s light. It still made her hyperventilate that these eons-old scrolls and tomes were so casually left on wooden shelves and not put in protective glass casings. But given that the entire floor was under a protection spell, and these literary works didn’t leave the library. At all. It made sense.
Hedori left the volumes on the huge table in the center of the room and crossed to the opposite shelf. As Darci packed the tomes away, she glanced back at him. “How’s Jenna doing?” she asked quietly.
