by Chloe Neill
“There will be tears at the wedding,” Lindsey said. “From those of us happy that the two of you found each other—and those jealous that both of you are off the market.”
I almost snorted, until I remembered the fact that Lacey Sheridan, head of San Diego’s Sheridan House, had been sufficiently in love with Ethan to try to push us apart. Vampire etiquette demanded we invite her, but I wasn’t sure whether she’d RSVP’d. Not that I was worried overmuch about it now. If anything, watching him say “I do” might help her move on. And it would probably piss her off a little. Which was fine with me.
“You will knock his socks off,” Mallory said, using a tissue to swipe at her eyes. “I mean, he is totally crazy about you, but if you didn’t have him in the palm of your hand before, you will now.”
• • •
Makeup was followed by dress, which was followed by hair. By the time Lindsey had finished rolling, teasing, pinning, and spraying my hair, my scalp felt like it had nearly been tugged off my head.
I winced as she adjusted a final pin, which poked right into the skin behind my ear. Across the room, Helen smiled. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she liked the hair, not the pain.
“Here we go,” Lindsey said. “Mirror time.”
“Oh, here!” Mallory said. “For full effect.” She opened a glossy white box on the counter, pulled out my bouquet.
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” I said, taking it. There were enormous frilled white peonies and pale green hydrangeas, with sprigs of white lily of the valley. The stems were wrapped in white satin. “And it’s heavy,” I said as Mallory passed it over. “How does yours look?”
“It’s mini-Merit!” she said, and pulled hers out of a second box. Same flowers, smaller size.
“Can I see now?” I asked, holding the flowers obediently in front of me.
“Voilà!” Lindsey said, and rotated the chair.
I stared.
My makeup was, just as Lindsey had said, soft and romantic. My skin looked luminous, my lips bee-stung and just the right shade of warm pink, my pale cheeks prettily flushed. My eyelashes looked a mile long; I’d have to get that secret from her later. There was something a little bit antique in the look—a softened version of a movie star’s makeup from the forties.
She’d found the same balance with my hair. She’d waved it into soft curls, then arranged it in an elegant loose knot at the back of my neck. Delicate white flowers that matched my bouquet were pinned into the top of the knot.
“It’s amazing,” I said, looking back at her. “Seriously—you could do this professionally.”
She winked. “One of my many talents. And I did, for a very brief time in the forties. So many pin curls and pompadours.”
That explained that.
• • •
Harold Washington Library sat heavily in the middle of the Loop, built like a fort to guard the knowledge held inside. It was watched from above by well-patinaed bronze owls and was edged by a sharp crown of the same bronze, which made the building seem more regal.
I’d stepped off that railing once upon a time, when Ethan was gone and Jonah was teaching me how to jump. Oh, how times had changed.
There were guards outside the building, along with a few dozen humans with smiles and cameras and CONGRATULATIONS! posters. They screamed as we walked toward the door, and I offered a quick wave between very tall security agents as we were shuffled inside. Ethan hadn’t spared any expense with the security.
Heels clicking on stone floors, we were escorted to an elevator, which rose slowly and quietly to the Winter Garden that topped the building. The doors opened, revealing Jeff and Catcher standing in front of the doors that led into the space where we’d hold the ceremony.
“You look beautiful, Merit,” Jeff said as Shay moved silently around us, capturing the moment. “Like a Final Fantasy character come to life.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“A moment, ladies,” Lindsey said, sticking her clutch under her arm while she gave me a final look. She scanned hair, makeup, dress, bouquet, and hem, before nodding with approval. “This House is clean,” she said.
“That bit doesn’t really work here,” I said. “Which means you’ve been spending too much time with Luc.”
“Can’t help it,” she said, squinting as she leaned forward to tuck in an errant lock of my hair. “I’m crazy about the guy.” She glanced back at Jeff and Catcher. “It’s time for me to take my seat. Which one of you handsome lads would like to escort me?”
“It’s my turn,” Jeff said, offering Lindsey his arm as Catcher opened the door so they could slip through.
When they had, I gestured toward the door. “Can I peek in there?” It was time to face the music—and the possibility of doves.
Catcher pointed a warning finger at me. “Don’t let them see you, and don’t make a scene. We just got everyone into their seats.”
“Not a problem,” I said as he pulled open the door a skinny inch.
“Oh,” I said, eyes widening as I took it in.
It looked like a fairy tale. The garden was swathed in pale, gauzy fabric as delicate as clouds, illuminated by what must have been a thousand candles that reflected off stone floors, glass walls, and rows of lacquered white chairs.
The air was cool and crisp with the scent of flowers—more densely ruffled peonies and pale green hydrangeas bundled together with Lindsey’s “branches” in tall crystal stems and swags gathered at the corners of the rooms, and covered an arch at the end of the aisle.
And in front of that glorious arbor stood the man I’d marry. He wore a black two-button tuxedo with a black bow tie that fit his long, lean body perfectly. His shoulder-length hair was brushed back, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips. His hands were crossed in front of him, but his shoulders were straight and proud. He looked powerful, happy, and very content with his lot.
My favorite human, my grandfather, stood behind him in a very smart suit, his hair slicked and combed back, his hands clasped around a small leather book. The mayor had given him authority to conduct the wedding as a thank-you for Towerline and an apology for letting Sorcha slip through her fingers when it was over.
Just to the side, Cadogan vampire Katherine sat behind a cello in a black gown, and her brother, Thomas, held a violin. They played soft classical music as people settled into their seats.
It was beautiful and happy and seemed like a fairy tale. And I made myself forget that most fairy tales had dark endings.
I stood up again as Catcher closed the door, and glanced back at Mallory. Joy bubbled up into a nervous laugh. “Holy shit, Mallory. I’m about to get married.”
She straightened her skirt, checked her earrings, gave me a sidelong smile. “You’re about to get married to Darth Sullivan. It’s a good thing I made you face him down that night, oh so long ago.”
“I think I was perfectly willing to do the facing down. But yeah, you definitely egged me on.”
“I’m an agitator,” she agreed. “You two have been through a lot. But there’s no one else I’d trust you with, Merit.”
“If you make me cry and mess up Lindsey’s makeup, she will probably stab you. Or at least give you a good Cadogan beat-down.”
We turned at the sound of footsteps. Malik, Amit, and my father walked toward us. All three wore dark tuxedos similar in styling to Ethan’s, crisp white shirts, and pale green pocket squares. My father carried Olivia, who looked adorable in her sleeveless dress, with a pale green bow at the waist and tulle skirt. There was a small bow in her blond curls, and a white basket clenched in her tiny fist.
My father put her down, and she ran to her mother. My father immediately pulled his phone from his pocket, began checking his messages. I guess he couldn’t be bothered.
“You will knock his proverbial socks off,” Amit said, pres
sing a kiss to my cheek.
“Good,” I said with a smile. “He needs to be kept on his toes.”
Charlotte crouched in front of Olivia, adjusted her bow, pointed at me. “Livvie, did you see Aunt Merit? Did you see how pretty she looks?”
Olivia turned to me, held out her basket. “I toss flowers!”
“And you’re going to do a wonderful job of it,” I said.
She reached in, pulled out a chubby handful of white petals, and threw them into the air, eyes closing as they caressed her face.
“Baby, remember you’re going to wait until you get inside?”
It was late for humans, and particularly for a child. She was probably tired and sleep-deprived, and her eyes grew wide, her upper lip wobbling. “Now.”
Fortunately, it became “now” quickly, as the door opened, Jeff returned to his post, and “Pachelbel’s Canon” began to ring through the air.
“Now it’s time,” Charlotte said, kneeling to straighten Olivia’s skirt. “You ready, kiddo?”
“Flowers!”
Charlotte nodded to Jeff and Catcher, and they opened the doors as people turned in their seats for better views.
“Go for it!” Charlotte whispered, and Olivia took off at a run through the doors. But she stopped in the middle of the aisle, turned nearly a full circle as she stared at the people around her.
“Livvie!” Charlotte whispered. “Throw the flowers!”
While the crowd chuckled, Olivia turned and looked at her mother. “Okay!” She ran down the aisle, flinging petals as she moved. Then stopped again and looked back at the door, where Charlotte and Malik had taken their positions.
“Mommy!” she called out. “Mommy! I do it!”
“You’re doing so good,” Charlotte said, giving her a thumbs-up as the crowd laughed in appreciation. “Keep going!”
Olivia nodded, and she kept walking, throwing petals with wild abandon. The men and women who sat beside the aisle brushed them good-naturedly from sleeves and laps.
“Oh dear God, that might be the cutest thing I’ve seen all year,” Mallory said as Charlotte and Malik followed Olivia down the aisle.
“She takes after her aunt,” I said with a grin.
“You’re saying she’s cute, or bad at following instructions?”
“Har-har-har,” I said, but I appreciated that Mallory was keeping it light. There was so much love in the room, so much anticipation, that I felt like I was standing on an emotional cliff. And if I fell off—if I let one tear fall—I didn’t think I’d be able to hold the rest of them back.
Mallory cast a glance at Amit. “Sir, I believe it’s time for you to do your duty.”
He smiled, offered his arm. “My lady.”
She took his arm, blew a kiss at me over her shoulder. “See you in the funny papers!”
And then there were three, I thought, as I stood beside my mother and father and waited for Amit and Mallory to make their walk.
We’d decided my father would escort my mother down the aisle. Instead of being escorted, I would walk to Ethan on my own, stand beside him as his partner and friend and lover. That was how I wanted our relationship to begin.
My father put away his phone and took my mother’s hand, then looked back at me with pale blue eyes that so clearly echoed my own.
“Go meet your husband,” he said, and they walked through the door together.
I guessed those four words were the only ones my father could spare, as he didn’t wait for a response but walked down the aisle and helped my mother to her seat. Then he turned back to Ethan, shook his hand with businesslike speed—the deal finally done—and sat beside her.
The brush-off felt dagger sharp, but I wouldn’t let it hurt me. Not tonight. Not now, when the members of the wedding party were in position, and there was only Ethan and me. There wasn’t time for regret. Not here. Not now.
Through the open door, the Winter Garden bristled with anticipation.
Katherine and Thomas began to play again, their strings dancing through an arrangement they’d created just for the wedding. The crowd rose to their feet. Ethan and the others turned toward the door as Thomas’s notes rode along the waves of Katherine’s cello.
I stepped onto the threshold, hands gripped around my bouquet like it was the handle of a precious katana. And then I took a breath, and took the step.
I knew the wedding was as much about friends and family as it was about us. The spectacle was for them; the vows—a different kind of oath taking—were for us.
But the look on Ethan’s face when he saw me for the first time, that was just for me.
CHAPTER SIX
I WANT IT THAT WAY
Ethan’s eyes widened and went hot, his gaze full of love and pride, possessiveness and wicked promise.
As I walked toward him, my Master and friend, I thought of the first moment we’d talked, when I’d blamed him for making me a vampire without my permission, even though he’d saved my life. He’d asked me if I believed he was a monster, if I believed he’d made me a monster. At the time, I wasn’t sure—about either of us. And then he gave his life for me, and by some chance miracle, I got him back. And I couldn’t be more grateful for it.
I meant to glance at those I passed, smile or nod, accept their hand-blown kisses. But while I could feel them smiling beside me, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I reached him, had to look up to meet his gaze, even in the heels.
You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, he silently said, the words just for me.
I smiled up at him. In your long and illustrious life?
In every single moment of it. There is no sunset, no creative masterpiece, no aria or symphony as beautiful as you.
You don’t look so bad yourself, I said with a grin wide enough that it made my cheeks ache.
I glanced at my grandfather, who winked at me. “If you’re ready to begin?”
“I absolutely am,” I said, and offered my bouquet to Mallory, who’d given up completely on holding back the tears. Amit reached over, offered her a handkerchief.
“Allergies,” she whispered with a laugh, and pressed the handkerchief to her cheeks.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” my grandfather said, drawing our attention again. “We are gathered here today to witness the union of Ethan Sullivan and Caroline Evelyn Merit in holy matrimony.”
“Woo-hoo!” I didn’t see who yelled it, but given the crowd’s chuckles, they appreciated the sentiment.
“My thoughts exactly,” my grandfather said. “Only a few short months ago, many of the men and women in this room were in very dire circumstances, including our groom. But fate is a crafty woman, and just as we have grieved at times in our recent past, so we have joy tonight, as these two brave and kind and stubborn individuals join together, stand together against fate’s future whims.” He smiled at the crowd. “Let’s help them seal that union in matrimony.”
He glanced at Ethan. “Do you, Ethan Sullivan, take Caroline Evelyn Merit to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this night forward, until death do you part? Again, I mean.”
The crowd chuckled, but Ethan’s expression was set and serious. “I do.”
“And will you love and honor her for all of your days, whether rich or poor, in sickness or in health, for as long as you may dwell on this earth?”
“I will.”
My grandfather nodded, turned his eyes to me. “And do you, Caroline Evelyn Merit, take Ethan Sullivan to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this night forward, until death do you part?”
I turned my gaze to Ethan, enjoyed that instant frisson of nerves in his eyes. Ethan, Master of Cadogan House, wanted me to seal the deal. It was easy enough to obey that one, as there wasn’t a doubt in my mind.
“I do.”
“And will you love and
honor him for all of your days, whether rich or poor, in sickness or in health, for as long as you may dwell on this earth?”
“I will.”
My grandfather nodded. “You have the rings?”
We reached back to our dutiful assistants, who handed us the rings.
“Ethan, place the ring on Merit’s fourth finger.”
I glanced down, my lips parting as light glinted on the ring. It was a worn silver band, inscribed with a circle of forget-me-nots. An antique, but not the type you could buy in a store.
This had been my grandmother’s ring. Tears welled again, but refusing to cry, I looked up at my grandfather. He smiled at me, nodding.
He’d given the ring to Ethan for me because he wanted me to wear it, because I’d loved my grandmother with all my heart, and because he had, too.
“She’d want you to have it,” he said with a nod, his own eyes red rimmed.
My heart so full of love I feared it might burst, I looked back at Ethan, at my Master and warrior, who knew exactly how to honor what I’d known of love, and had generously agreed to share it here.
“Repeat after me,” my grandfather said. “I offer you this ring, Merit, as a symbol of my love and commitment.”
“I offer you this ring,” Ethan said, voice as clear as the emeralds of his eyes, “as a symbol of my eternal love and commitment.” He smiled at the addition and slid the ring onto my finger.
“Merit,” my grandfather prompted, and I opened my palm, showed Ethan the ring I’d had made for him.
It was a platinum band, inscribed with the tiny oak leaves of his original family crest, taken from the shield that still hung in the House’s training room.
“Well,” he said, emotion bare on his face. He looked up at me, awe shining in his eyes.
“Place the ring on the fourth finger of Ethan’s hand,” my grandfather said, and I slipped the ring onto his finger.
“And repeat after me: I offer you this ring, Ethan, as a symbol of my love and commitment.”
I looked up at him. “I offer you this ring, Ethan, as a symbol of my eternal love and commitment.” I slid the ring home.
