by Patti Larsen
Chapter One
So weird, this image of me reflected back from the mirror. I'd wanted cream or even a color, but Mom and Shenka—and all the other women in my life who thought they had a say—insisted on white.
I wasn’t an angel. But as I stood there, looking at myself in my wedding dress, I smiled.
And felt like one.
Slow breathing did wonders for the wild pounding of my heart as Mom lifted the lace veil and pinned it to the back of my piled curls. Tears glistened in her eyes while, with trembling hands, she let the fall of soft fabric go, the sigh of it falling to the floor behind me like the exhale of all the sadness I'd ever felt.
Gone with the excitement of what I was about to do. I fidgeted a little with the skirt of my gown, loving the halter style, the way the dress clung to me in shining folds of satin. While I knew Mom would have preferred to dress me in a princess concoction of froth and poof, I'd won this argument.
Mostly because I didn't give her a choice and just went out to the local bridal boutique and bought it without telling a soul.
“Perfect choice,” Mom said with a sweet smile as she smoothed a dangling curl back from my bare shoulder. “You are so beautiful.”
I turned in a rush and hugged her, not caring if my dress was crumpled, if my hair and veil suffered. “Mom,” I whispered, doing my very best not to cry. “Thank you.”
She waved one hand in front of her face when she let me go, cheeks pink, laughing through sparkling tears.
“Don't you dare,” she said. “You'll ruin your makeup.”
Tastefully applied, thanks to Shenka, who stood back with a beaming smile, her knee-length dress the perfect shade of family magic blue.
“Miriam's right,” my second said with a hitch in her voice. “You're gorgeous, Syd.”
I felt it. Turned to look at myself again, catching the glitter of my engagement ring in my reflection. Liam presented me with the large diamond the very night I proposed, a ring, it turned out, he had in his possession for almost a year.
Imagine that.
I smiled down on it, focusing on right now. Refusing to allow the craziness of my life to intrude for this one lovely, perfect evening. The sun had already set and I knew the rest of the wedding guests and party would be arriving any minute, now the vampires were able to join us.
Shenka touched up Mom's eyes as I sat carefully on the edge of the bed and watched, smiling as they spoke in low, soft voices, giggling together over something I missed. Because my mind, traitor that it was, already drifted elsewhere.
I still found it hard to believe it had only been two weeks since conclave. Even more that Mom allowed thirteen days to go by before she married me off. I was sure, that first morning Liam and I made our announcement, she'd have us out in the back yard, calling for an officiator, the second she saw the sparkly on my finger.
But she showed amazing restraint and, considering the Council was now happy I was getting married, it might have been the fact the pressure was off her shoulders granting me even such a short bit of breathing room.
I shouldn't have been surprised the wedding came together so quickly. Shenka being the mistress of organized, after all, must have had a plan already in place, mobilizing the coven into immediate action. And because our family had such diverse interests—from photographers to bakers to florists and part-time musicians—the entire process was covered and arranged before I could say otherwise.
Just as well, considering how bad I was at keeping track of details. Or running my own life, let alone a wedding. I'd been part of Sunny and Uncle Frank's, but my involvement stopped at trying on dresses and shoes and arranging Sunny's bachelorette party. Which I'd forgotten all about. Leaving it to Mom and her old second, now my rep on the Council, Erica Plower to save my forgetful butt.
At least nothing blew up in the past two weeks, alliances formed during conclave still holding together. The new European Council Leader, Femke Svensson, suggested Steam Union members be assigned to the various Councils and, in doing so, ensured the safety of most sorcerers as well as serving as protection against the Brotherhood.
I was still waiting on word from her about my vampire friend, Sebastian DeWinter. She promised to look into the Pannera Sthol issue, now aware the undead queen was under the thrall of the taint introduced by the dark sorcerers. She was also informed the handsome blood clan leader was trapped and most likely being tortured by my former Hayle coven member turned undead spy for the Brotherhood, Celeste Oberman.
What I wouldn't do to get my hands around her neck and squeeze. She'd been a thorn in my side for years now and yet always remained outside my grip. But I had a feeling, once Femke gave me permission to act, Celeste's days of irking me would end in a short walk to a tall stake and a very, very hot fire.
Couldn't wait. I was bringing marshmallows.
The fact the Brotherhood went back to ground did nothing to make me feel better. Now that my friends and allies were making the sorcerer’s lives here on this plane almost impossible—instant death if caught could be an excellent deterrent to making their presence known—I knew the threat Liander Belaisle and his sect presented was far from over.
With his possession of the stronghold and the empty plane Mom's Enforcers once called home, Belaisle was in full control of the site where our last battle was meant to be fought. Ameline Benoit, my nemesis, had been right when she said it didn't matter who held possession. When the day came, we'd be there to meet Belaisle no matter what. But it still bugged me knowing I'd be walking into a situation he controlled rather than the other way around.
Sigh. I had to force my hands into stillness, the constant twisting of my new ring a habit I'd picked up to add to the others I fell into when my churning mind took over. At this rate, I'd either rub my finger raw or thin the platinum band to nothing before I even made it down the aisle.
Couldn't help it. Thinking about the last battle made me worry over Ameline and her power shortfall. Which pushed my mind toward my sister. Ameline already demanded I turn over Meira's demon magic to her so she could complete her journey to maji. The resounding “NO” I'd delivered didn’t seem to have phased Ameline's plans. Which meant my almost constant stress about Meira surfaced about as often as any of my other nibbling anxieties.
A lot, in other words.
Meems insisted she was fine, that all was well. Our daily talks reassured me that was true. And knowing my demon grandmother, former Ruler Ahbi Sanghamitra, was embedded in the Node power source keeping Demonicon stable, her spirit part of the veil Ameline was forced to cross if she wanted to go after Meira, made me feel a little better.
But Ahbi wouldn't be much help if Ameline came after my sister while she was here on my plane.
I must have been frowning, because the giggling pair went silent. The sudden quiet snapped me out of my thoughts, raised my eyes to see them watching me with irritation.
“You,” Shenka shook an eyebrow pencil at me, “are going to be happy tonight or I'm going to kick your butt.”
Mom nodded once, definitive. “Me first,” she said.
I cleared away my thoughts with a mental sweep of a broom and smiled at both of them. “Sorry,” I said. “Just keep me distracted and I'll be fine.”
Mom rose and came to me, taking my hands, pulling me to my feet just demon power surged downstairs.
“That would be your sister,” Mom said. “And your father.” Her voice wavered just a little, her smile a bit too bright. “Are you ready?”
A flutter of butterflies woke in my stomach, rising to beat themselves against my ribcage in response.
Was I?
Mom turned before I could answer, fished out a bottle of perfume from the back of my drawer. I laughed, remembering she'd left it for me. Lilac, her signature. I shook my head when she offered it up.
“I think I need to find my own,” I said. “He'll just have to smell me as I am for now.”
Shenka hugged me, pressing her cheek to mine. “Liam will be in
such a daze when he sees you, his brain won't be functioning anyway.”
I laughed nervously, dancing insects increasing their pace. “I'm going to throw up.”
Shenka pulled back and grinned. “This from a woman who’s faced death, destruction, mayhem and almost certain collapse of a plane or two.”
That was different. In fact, I’d rather face a horde of Brotherhood than the aisle waiting for me in the back yard.
Running sounded good about now. Gulp.
Shenka winked. “I have a bucket out there,” she said with glee. “Just in case.”
Oh. My. Swearword.
Another rush of power broke through the family wards, spirit magic tied to the undead. I turned to the door as it creaked open after a quick knock, and opened my arms to my sister as Meira came in. She wore her human persona tonight, my height, no giant platform boots in sight, her strapless dress a match for Shenka's, only hers in the deepest amber.
“Gorgeous,” she said. “Liam's going to drop.”
Another nervous giggle escaped me paired with the sudden need to sprint through the door as Charlotte entered, her wolf crawling over her eyes. I squeezed her, too, pretty sure I'd be all hugged out by the time tonight was over.
She wore an iridescent fabric, shimmering with a soft gold sheath of gauze over top. Mom's brilliant idea made me smile as she dressed each of my bridesmaids in their magic colors. Sunny's stunning face shone with joy as she embraced me, silver gown tightly fitted to her perfect body.
Finally, Trill entered, shy and, from the way she walked in her heels, more than a little uncomfortable. But her deep crimson dress was the perfect color for her.
The girls all gathered to admire each other's outfits, the first time they'd all been together in them since Shenka started putting this dog and Persian show together. I stepped aside, let them ooh and ahh over each other as the door creaked one last time and Dad poked his head in, blue eyes and tanned skin of his human mask firmly in place.
“It's almost time,” he said, deep voice rumbling in the sudden silence. “But I'd like a moment alone with the bride first, please.”
My bridesmaids and maid of honor—Meira, naturally—all left in a flutter of brilliant dresses and laughter. Mom was last to go, pausing beside Dad, one hand reaching out. But, just before she could touch him, she let her hand fall as she ducked her head and disappeared out into the hall.
I couldn't help the soft sigh of sadness that escaped me. Dad sighed, too, broad shoulders sagging in his black tux. “I'm sorry, cupcake,” he said. “I didn't want to ruin your night.”
I went to him, hugged him, felt the warmth and strength I remembered from my childhood, laughed at the nickname I used to hate and now adored.
“Dad,” I said, “I'm so glad you're here.”
He leaned back after a moment, his eyes damp, handsome face smiling as a flicker of amber danced through his gaze. “All your mother and I ever wanted was for you to be happy,” he said. “Are you, Syd?”
I stopped, drew a breath. Thought about running one last time.
Asked my heart.
Already knew the answer as my itchy feet calmed, my pounding heart falling into a softer rhythm.
“Yes, Dad,” I said, amazed to believe it. “I am. As happy as I think I'll ever be.”
He bent and kissed my forehead. “Then I'm happy for you,” he said. “Are you ready?”
Mom's question again.
I nodded, paused. “I just need a second?”
Dad left me with a soft squeeze of my hand. “I'll be right downstairs,” he said.
Left me alone.
I turned one last time to look in the mirror, at the woman I'd become, the bride I was. Hugged myself as the diamond ring flashed and a trail of tears escaped to track down my right cheek.
We love you, my vampire sent, her magic flowing around me.
We will always be here for you, my demon's graveled growl went on as amber fire lit my insides.
No matter where life takes you, Shaylee sent, Sidhe green flaring within, we are one, forever.
The family magic swirled in joy while my maji power stirred. Even the black flower of my sorcery answered, blossoming a moment before falling still.
Thank you, I sent to all of them, pulling myself together. I love you, too. And would be nothing without you.
But it wasn't their love I longed for, wept for. My hand trembled as I lifted it to look at the diamond on my finger, fighting the face trying to rise in my mind. The feel of magic I'd loved and lost. The taste of chocolate and the heat of power.
I loved Liam. We would be happy together as long as he lived.
And I refused to think of anyone else.
A tissue cleared up the moisture, a soft dab with a cotton stick erasing the moment of weakness.
All right, Sydlynn Thaddea Hayle.
Time to get married.
I left my reflection behind with my longing and sadness and closed the door firmly behind me.
