Rise of the Blood

by Lucienne Diver

  “Thank you,” she said, as the elevator closed on us. “For being here, for finding Uncle Christos to give me away.”

  I admit it, I got a little choked up.

  “No problem. You’d do the same for me.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “So do you,” I said, blinking away the tears in my eyes before they could dissolve the glue on the false eyelashes they’d given me.

  We smiled at each other, and I could almost forget everything going on outside this elevator. Then it hit bottom, dinged and opened up, and I realized there was at least one thing I didn’t want to forget. Armani. Nick.

  He stood there in a silver-gray open-necked shirt with no tie beneath a dark blue suit. He had actual product in his hair, it seemed, so that for once it didn’t flop over his amazing eyes that were just a shade lighter than his suit. He looked good enough to eat. Way too good to take to a public place where I’d be expected to keep my hands to myself. I wanted to drag him back into the room and rip the rest of the buttons off his shirt.

  He licked his lips as he looked at me, those incredible eyes growing darker as they did when he wanted to drag me off somewhere private. I didn’t know if we were okay yet, but it was clear that at least we weren’t finished with each other. That was something.

  I forgot to pick up Tina’s train as she exited the elevator, instead going right to Nick. I waited for him to open his arms, to take me into them and hold me so that I could apologize and…but he just stood there, arms at his sides.

  My heart fell until he said, “I’m afraid to touch you. You’re so perfect.”

  “Oh no,” Tina cut in as I was about to tell him he was being ridiculous, “No touching. Not until after the ceremony and the pictures.”

  Nick looked amused and offered me an arm instead of a hug or a kiss. Apparently, that was okay, because Tina didn’t protest when I slid my hand along his forearm and held on.

  Uncle Christos stood a few feet away with his date, Detective Beverly Simon of the LAPD. Clearly, we Karacis investigators had a type. He kissed her warmly on the cheek and left her to offer his arm to Tina, since he was standing in for the parents she’d lost.

  Tina looked sad for a moment, maybe thinking of them, but then Uncle Christos smiled that infectious smile he had and said, “If I had a daughter, I’d want her to be just like you. You look beautiful, m’dear. Like a cake topper.”

  “Or Bridal Barbie,” I said, out loud this time.

  Christos laughed so loudly that everyone stared. “Bridal Barbie, only better, because you are Greek!”

  “Hear hear!” a voice agreed wholeheartedly. I recognized it as Hermes, and looked to see Christie beside him in a dazzling silver sheath dress.

  Another person to protect. That was what ran through my head. My heart started to pound, and I didn’t know if it was pessimism or precognition—fear or knowledge that something would go wrong.

  I looked for Jesus, wondering what he’d say about my transformation, but I didn’t see him. Clipboard guy stepped up to block my view of the others assembled and clapped to call us all to places in the procession. We were walking to the church. Tina had told me about this bit. Paper lanterns—luminaries—had been lit and placed all along the sidewalks of the short walk to the church, and the hero and heroine of the film were to first catch sight of each other in the candlelight, which meant that Apollo and Serena were here somewhere. It also meant that Nick got pushed aside in favor of my matching groomsman, Jason’s cousin Ernest, who had the most pronounced Adam’s apple I’d ever seen and who turned pink every time I looked at him. I thought he was going to have a stroke when I had to take his arm.

  Uncle Christos walked almost at march, standing every centimeter of his five-foot-nine height, looking like a proud papa as he escorted Tina out of the hotel. Lining the streets were luminaries, light diffusers, roving cameramen and others high up in a cherry picker for the overhead shots. I did my best not to look at any of the cameras, which was fairly easy because the paper lanterns were so beautiful. Like something out of a dream or, yes, a romantic film. I wished it was Nick’s arm I was holding.

  “That your boyfriend back there?” Ernest asked, nodding behind us toward where Nick and everyone else followed.

  “Yeah,” I said, wondering whether it was okay for us to be talking. Tina hadn’t said, but I doubted the cameras would do more than pan past us, so I wasn’t too worried.

  “He going to kill me for laying a hand on you?”

  I laughed at that thought, and suddenly the image of a sword slashing and blood flying rose up to choke me and I stumbled.

  Ernest caught me with a hand under my elbow. “I’m sorry, I was only kidding. I didn’t mean for you to take me seriously. I’m terrible at small talk, as you can see.”

  I fought down the bile that had burned its way up my throat, leaving it stripped and raw. “It’s okay,” I rasped out. “I just…I’m no good at it either.” I worked to put a smile on my face. “No, he won’t kill you. He might even thank you for preventing me from falling on my face.”

  “But it was my fault you stumbled. I shocked you.”

  “Oh, it takes a lot more than that to shock me. It’s just been a long day.”

  “I heard about your concussion. That’s probably it then, you’re still a little dizzy, between the altitude and the knock to the head—”

  Oh gods. I hadn’t been looking or thinking beyond the lanterns. I hadn’t been thinking about the height…until then. Panic started to rise.

  “Ernest, um, I don’t think we’re supposed to be talking. Maybe I should just focus on putting one foot in front of the other?”

  His face went from pink to red. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

  He looked miserable and embarrassed, and I swore to make it up to him as soon as I could breathe without hyperventilating. If they sat us together at the reception, maybe I could give him my cake…if the ambrosia munchies allowed.

  We made it to the oversized oaken doors of the church without incident. No Rhea. No quakes or men in black. No police or portents, except for the vague queasiness in my belly.

  The doors opened before us, as if by magic, to reveal the inside of the church, lit by more of the paper lanterns, as well as candles over every surface. Branches had been laid along either side of the white runner that led toward the altar, heavy with deep green leaves and red berries. Straight ahead, the set designers had created a bower from a white trellis strung with climbing vines of what appeared to be poppies, only I didn’t think they grew that way, and little white mini-lights that glowed like fireflies. The altars were decorated with more of the berry-laden branches with flickering tea lights.

  All I could see was doom. The place was a fire hazard, and the sickness in my stomach grew.

  Clipboard guy hustled the women of the bridal party into a small anteroom, mercifully candle-free, and sent the men off to seat the guests.

  I smiled at Ernest as he bowed to take his leave. Old-fashioned and charming. He dashed away, and as the doors closed us off from the guys, Tina suddenly folded like a subway map. I caught her before she could fall.

  “Chair, someone!” I ordered, looking around for one myself.

  Junessa was there in a flash with a folding chair from the stack against one wall. I lowered Tina into it. Her eyes were wide and shocky. “I can’t do it,” she said, her gaze meeting mine in appeal. “I thought I could, but I can’t. The cameras—on film. They say the camera adds ten pounds. What if I look huge? What if I stumble over my lines? What if they call ‘cut’ in the middle of my wedding?” Her voice rose with every word. “What was I thinking?”

  “Get her a glass of—something,” I said to whoever would listen. Althea and Junessa exchanged a look. There was clearly nothing in this little room where they kept vestments and extra odds and ends. Althea let herself out of the room to find something, and I squatted in front of Tina and took her hands.

  “Breathe,” I said. “Just breathe.”

>   The vision hit me like a two-ton truck. Tina gripping Jason as the earth lurched beneath their feet, screaming, fire erupting, panic and pain.

  I let go of her hands with a gasp.

  “What? What is it?” she asked. “Tori?”

  I shook my head, trying to erase the vision like the lines from an Etch A Sketch, but it wasn’t that easy. Not nearly.

  My heart pounded, but I made myself put on a show for Tina, starting with a smile.

  “Nothing, just…your hands are so cold.”

  Tina gave a little laugh. “Only because yours are so hot. You’re burning up!”

  Probably my body trying to fight something off—like a body-stealing mother goddess.

  Althea came rushing back with a flask.

  “Whose?” I asked before I’d let her pass it to Tina. All we needed was the bride hooked on nectar or something to really kick this crisis into high gear.

  “Spiro.”

  I took the flask from Althea, who protested, and tested a drop myself.

  “Whiskey,” I said.

  “What did you expect?” Althea demanded, swiping the flask from me and handing it to Tina, who took a huge swig.

  Althea grabbed it back. “Enough. That ought to warm you up.”

  Tina coughed and nodded.

  Althea dropped to her knees in front of Tina.

  “It’s not too late to back out. Say the word and we’ll have you out of here.”

  “What?” I pushed Althea out of the way and squatted down to Tina’s eye level. “You love him, right?”

  Tina looked apologetically at Althea and nodded back at me.

  “You want to marry him?”

  She swallowed hard and brushed away at tears that threatened to fall and undo her perfect makeup. “Yes,” she said.

  “So don’t let the cameras stop you. Don’t let anything stop you. The important thing here is that at the end of the day, you’re married, right?”

  Tina sniffled.

  “Right?” I asked again.

  “Right,” she echoed.

  She took a deep breath and smoothed down her dress as she stood. “I’m ready.”

  “Good, because so are they,” Junessa said, peeking out through the door. “Let’s go.”

  Tina went first, leading the way back into the small foyer where Uncle Christos and the groomsmen waited to escort us in.

  She smiled transcendently and took Christos’s arm. I looked away, wishing I could appreciate the moment, but trying to spot whatever it was tying my stomach in knots. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but my inner alarms wouldn’t cease. I was wired. I wished I’d had more of that whiskey to settle my nerves.

  Ernest held out his arm for me to take, and as I did he whispered, “Everything okay?”

  “I hope so,” I whispered back.

  Then we were walking down the aisle—slowly, as we’d been taught. Step. Pause. Step. Pause. I forced myself to smile at everyone, looking for particular faces in the crowd. Apollo with Serena right there beside him, Jesus, Hermes and Christie, Uncle Hector, Nick, looking handsome and alert, as though he sensed something as well. Spiro, Mom and Dad, Yiayia and Fergus… Everyone I knew and loved in one place. Disaster could not strike. If the prophetess Cassandra had been cursed with the inability to change the futures she could see, it meant that changing them was a possibility in the normal course of things. I had to hang onto that thought.

  I just prayed I’d be part of the solution and not the problem. I put Rhea out of my mind and hoped she’d stay out.

  We reached the front of the small church, and Christos kissed Tina on both cheeks before surrendering her to Jason. Then everyone turned toward the priest. I fixed Tina’s train as she took her place beside her groom and then she handed me her bouquet. It took a superhuman effort to turn my back on the congregation. An entire church full of potential trouble, and I had to face forward.

  My back itched. My nerves jittered. My stomach danced the syrtos, at least staying in the wedding theme, but as each second ticked by and nothing happened, the constriction around my heart started to ease.

  Behind the altar, the candles flickered, but no more or less than they should. The happy couple stood gazing into each others’ eyes, hands clasped, bodies straining toward each other. Tina was beautiful. Her veil, sequined along the scalloped edges like the bodice of her dress, caught and reflected the light, which didn’t even come close to matching the luminescence of her eyes. Jason looked at her like they were the only two people in the world, and seemed to pull himself out of a trance each time a response was demanded of him.

  It would have been perfect, if not for the nettling sense of doom pricking at each one of my nerves. I waited for the “kiss the bride” part of the ceremony with held breath, which I realized only when spots began to form in front of my eyes.

  Althea elbowed me in the side like she knew I was in danger of passing out, and I let the breath out in a gasp, sucking more in and then holding that like I couldn’t help myself. I tensed for the words…or for disaster. When the priest finally spoke them, I didn’t know who was more elated—me or the bride and groom.

  Tina’s smile lit the room, and she threw herself into Jason’s arms as though she’d barely been holding back. As soon as their lips touched, the earth moved.

  Literally.

  Gasps sounded throughout the church, even from the bride, but Jason only pulled Tina closer as if he thought she was the one rocking his world. Candles toppled from the altar, and Junessa screamed as one caught her dress. She brushed at it, and it flew into one of the altar cloths, which were already starting to smoke from one of the other candles. I lunged to rip it off the altar, but before I could, it burst into full-on flames. The ground bucked again, more violently this time, and I fell forward toward the blaze. I’d been planning to smother the flames, not snuff them out with my own body, but as I went down, I grabbed at the cloth, which tore free of the altar, falling all around me, along with the branches and berries that had sat atop it. The branches also started to smoke, but were still green enough not to catch…yet. I’d stopped and dropped, now I rolled, desperately trying to smother the flames.

  All around there were screams and running feet. Someone yanked at the cloth engulfing me, trying to get me free. It was Junessa, offering a hand to help me up.

  We looked quickly around the little chapel filling with smoke, the priest yelling instructions for evacuation, ushering the newly bound bride and groom out and calling to the altar servers to grab holy water and to pray.

  Nick dashed to the nave to take me off Junessa’s hands, and together we all ran for the door of the chapel. It was bottlenecked by panicked people, including Apollo and Serena, who was frantically trying to turn back, into the church. At first, I thought she was mad with terror, but then I realized she must have left something behind. Something important? Like her purse with the power she held over Apollo. Our eyes met, his and mine, and I mouthed, “Get her out.”

  He nodded and I stood on my toes to give Nick a quick kiss on the cheek before bucking his grip and promising, “Be right back.”

  I whirled and pushed through a stunned crowd of fleeing people back into the church. They let me go, more interested in taking my place closer to the door than in stopping the crazy lady who wanted to run into the flames.

  Smoke clouded my vision as I raced to the pews. The priest yelled at me to get out, but I was on a mission. I ran to the pew where I thought I’d seen Apollo and Serena earlier. I could barely see the bench, but I felt along it. Nothing. Coughing now with the smoke clogging my lungs, I dropped to the ground to search beneath the seats. My hand encountered papers and a pair of shoes—high heels someone had left behind in their haste to escape. I despaired finding Serena’s talisman when I encountered something pliable and beaded. A purse! I grabbed it and the heels, hoping and praying one held the key, and bolted, wheezing, for the door, which had already spat out the fleeing guests. I had to dodge a fireman racing his way in,
but then I was out of the burning building.

  More firemen rushed the entrance, one grabbing and moving me away at speed, turning me over to a paramedic who’d just arrived on the scene. I refused medical treatment and went for Nick, who met me halfway, having seen me escape the church.

  “Here, stash this,” I said, shoving the purse at him.

  He gave me a disbelieving look, but grabbed it all the same to conceal under his suit jacket.

  Then he grabbed me and kissed me for all he was worth, which was a helluva lot in my book. I was breathless when he let me go and not because of the fire.

  “Don’t do that again,” he ordered.

  “I won’t,” I promised, leaning into him. “But I think that’s Serena’s purse and that it may hold the spell petrifying Apollo.”

  His expression turned grim and I knew then I was losing him. I’d left him and safety to run into a burning building, just like I’d left him aboard the storm-lashed plane. I’d risked my life for a purse, all to help Apollo. I’d have done the same for him or Tina or…but the fact that it was for his rival made all the difference.

  In my turmoil it took me longer than it should have to realize that the tremors had stopped and that no attack had followed, which baffled me. If Zeus Earthshaker and Poseidon Stormbringer had been behind things, surely they’d have brought the church down around us. This didn’t feel like them, which meant that it was another thing entirely. The unknown. I didn’t like it one bit.

  The earthquake had to be a side effect of something else, because Delphi was not known to shake, rattle and roll, and the idea that it would suddenly do so while we were on site…too much coincidence to credit.