I Was A Vampire Wedding Planner

by Alecia Monaco

  He shut the door just in time to avoid being hit with a flying stapler. Great. She got to spend an entire evening watching Renaldi get his inseam measured, and watching Marie and her maids of questionable honor sashay around in formalwear.

  Could it get any better? Jade snorted. Maybe she’d find time to work in a root canal while she was at it.

  ———

  “She says the bodice isn’t tight enough.”

  Jade puffed out her cheeks and counted to ten. Talk about waiting to exhale. Trying to sound more composed than she felt, she eyed Marie’s translator, Julia. “If it gets any tighter, she won’t be able to breathe.”

  “Not a problem for our kind,” Julia deadpanned.

  “We’re taking it in a little more?” Taffy, designer to the undead, made it a question.

  “The bride is always right.” Even when she’s a total airhead, Jade thought, circling the platform where Marie stood in her clichéd black wedding dress, still as the proverbial statue. No Vera Wang for Marie. It was Elvira all the way with her.

  Jade glanced at the watch strapped to her wrist with a delicate silver band—insurance against unwanted vampire touches. It was already close to midnight. At the rate they were going, the vampires would all fall to the dawn before they were finished.

  Thank goodness, the groom and his party were being fitted by Andre in another room. She’d successfully avoided Renaldi’s seeking glance when he passed through the storefront to the men’s dressing room, but it didn’t stop her body from twisting like a wet rag at the memory of his lips on her breasts, her hands knotted in his ebony silk hair, the hard length of him between…

  “Hello?” Taffy snapped her fingers. “Earth calling Jade…”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry, I just…” Took a stroll down an X-rated version of memory lane. She forced a smile. “What can I help you with?”

  “Marie here says we’re missing a member of the wedding party.” Taffy stood up, tucking dressmakers’ pins into the waistband of her pants. “Have you got a profile for Brenda Hutton?”

  Who the hell is Brenda Hutton? Out loud, Jade said, “I don’t recall a Brenda Hutton being listed among the bride’s party.”

  Taffy snorted. “Marie insists she’s one of the maids of honor.”

  Marie spoke rapidly in French, suddenly animated and gesturing wildly. Julia nodded and turned to Jade. “She says Brenda is Arturo’s swan.”

  “Arturo? The groomsman who’s being fitted for his tux even as we speak?” Jade had a mental image of a cartoon thermometer with temperature shooting up until the bulbous top burst into an angry red splatter.

  “Oui, oui.“ Marie nodded, then said something else in French. Jade caught Brenda and Arturo’s names, but nothing else.

  “She says Brenda is in Berlin on business.” Julia sighed, a sound rarely heard among the undead. “Being a swan, she’s human, of course.”

  Jade nodded, wondering if Avery had thought to tuck a box of chocolates into her briefcase. “I don’t have a profile on her.” She glanced at Taffy, who looked at least as frustrated as Jade felt. “I don’t guess you have her measurements on file.”

  Taffy silently strode to the small Empire style desk in the corner of the fitting room, and opened a 3x5 box. She shuffled through the contents for a moment before extracting a card.

  “This is all I have.” She handed the card to Jade.

  Jade scanned the card. “She and I are the same height and wear the same size.” She huffed out a breath. “This is it?”

  Taffy nodded, twirling her tape measure like a lasso.

  Dear God, what am I about to get myself into? “Can you get a decent fit using me?”

  Taffy managed a half smile. “It’ll do in a pinch.”

  In other words, she was better than nothing. Yay.

  ———

  A half hour later, Jade stepped out of the stall swathed in more fabric than her entire wardrobe contained.

  And it was all white. Not off white. Not ivory. Not eggshell. Honest to gosh, pure as the driven snow, Like a Virgin, Nice Day for a White Wedding, white.

  She looked down at the swags of lace—very nice stuff, Valencian and Point d’ Esprit. She still felt like a walking wedding cake.

  And not in a good don’t you want to eat me sort of way.

  Julia tottered out of the adjacent stall, holding her skirts up with her hands.

  “We have a black gown for the bride, but white gowns for the bridesmaids?” Jade raised her eyebrows at Julia.

  Julia shrugged. “It’s Marie’s idea of an artistic statement.”

  Jade could have come up with a more appropriate description for it, but she bit her tongue.

  “You ladies ready?” Taffy called from the other side of the door.

  “As ready as we’ll ever be.” Jade opened the door and stepped into the fitting room.

  Taffy made a slow circle around Jade, looking her over from head to toe with an expert eye. “This is really a flawless fit.” She knelt down to examine the hem. “You’re a perfect sample size.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Jade had dealt with enough wedding gowns to know about sample sizing.

  “No, you really are.” Taffy stood up. “You have great proportions.” She squinted and tugged at the bodice. “We could take it in a tiny bit in the waist if we were fitting it for you, but since it’s for Brenda, I think we’ll adjust the hem for the heels the bridesmaids are wearing and leave it at that.”

  “What about my dress?” Julia gathered up her skirts and struggled across the room with Marie babbling in excited French at her side. “This dress is at least two sizes too large.”

  “The sample was a size four,” Taffy sighed.

  “Do I look like a size four to you?” Julia huffed. “I’m a zero!”

  That was the first sensible thing anyone had said all night, Jade noted, a stray wedding veil catching her eye. It was tossed across an open box of party favors in the fitting room.

  “That’s the toy box for the bridal shower.” Taffy was already pinning Julia’s dress. “It’s a little extra thing we throw in for our bridal parties. The veil is kind of a gag. Something for the bride to wear to the strip club so the dancers can tell who the lucky girl is.”

  “I see.” Jade put the veil on her own head and struck a pose in front of the mirror. “Oh, if my mother could see me now…”

  Taffy snickered. Julia looked annoyed and Marie was back to what seemed to be her usual blank-faced pout.

  “On that note, I’m going to change back into something less festive, if you’re done with me?”

  Taffy nodded. “You’re good to go. That dress should fit Brenda well enough to make it through the ceremony, at least.” She glanced up at Julia. “As you can see, I have my hands full here.”

  Jade stifled a laugh and went back into the dressing room. She had her hand on the stall door when she felt someone grab her by the arm.

  She gasped.

  “The silver watch must go,” Renaldi’s voice said near her ear.

  She tore her arm from his grasp. “What are you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?” She took a step away from him.

  “We have to talk.” He closed the gap between them. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She threw her hands up. “I can’t just waltz out with the best man in the middle of a fitting!”

  “Who said anything about waltzing?” He took her by the hand before she had time to think about it, and instantly a shimmer of his power flowed over her like rushing wind.

  The dressing room vanished around her, like a movie scene fading to black. The parking lot outside of Undead Threads appeared around her, like some CGI special effect made reality.

  “Did we just teleport?” Jade looked around the parking lot uncertainly.

  “I have limited abilities in that realm, but enough to get us out of the building without being asked a hundred questions.” His gaze fell to her wrist. “Could you please put the watch somewhere else? Just until we
’ve had time to sort this out?”

  “It didn’t seem to bother you before, when you touched me in the dressing room.”

  He gave her a half smile. “I’m somewhat immune to the effects of silver. A side effect of my age.” He glanced at the watch again. “But not so immune that I can touch you without discomfort.”

  Jade opened her mouth to argue, but then stopped. Whether she cared to admit it or not, she wanted to hear what he had to say. Without another word, she unfastened the watch and slipped it into the pocket concealed within the underskirt of her dress.

  “Happy?” She heard the thread of sarcasm lingering in her voice.

  “Only when I’m with you.” His eyes were like melting amber glowing in the darkness.

  Don’t think about the way he looks. As if she could think of anything else, with him standing there looking utterly mouthwatering in a tux. The crisp white banded-collar shirt set off his golden olive skin, making him look like a honey coated treat she couldn’t wait to take home and lick. The black jacket and pleated pants showcased every inch of his tall, lean physique to perfection. His hair hung in loose waves to his broad shoulders, creating an image that was somewhere between a GQ cover model and a walking orgasm.

  “Do you have any idea how ridiculously good looking you are?” She looked at him, feeling the way she had when she was a little girl with her nose pressed against the toy store window, admiring an insanely expensive dollhouse she could never hope to possess.

  “Does anyone ever really understand the effect they have on others?” He searched her face, his voice holding a note of tired patience.

  She folded her arms over her chest, not ready to soften to him yet. “You wanted to talk, let’s talk.”

  He shook his head. “Not here.”

  She cast a glance around the deserted parking lot. “Where do you want to do this? I’m sure some vamp bars are still open this time of night. We’re just a few blocks from Crimson Hungers.”

  “I’m thinking of something a little more private.” He looped his arm through hers. “Hold on tight.” When she opened her mouth, he silenced her with a finger over her lips. “And for once, don’t ask questions.”

  She did as he asked, holding on to the hard muscles of his upper arm as tightly as she could. When his power began to swirl around them, she shivered.

  “I told you my powers are limited when it comes to teleportation.” He extended his free hand, palm up, and she could see a shimmer of energy rising from it like a heat mirage coming up from scalding asphalt. “You’re about to see the area in which my powers excel.” He shot her a teasing glance. “My second best area, at least.”

  A warm wind wrapped around them, and they were propelled effortlessly into the air. They rose steadily into the stillness of the night sky, until the buildings and cars beneath them looked like toys.

  She gazed down at the landscape of Houston spreading beneath them. “If this is only second place, I can’t imagine what takes top prize.”

  “I plan to show you.” He pulled her closer, guiding them west. “Over and over again.” His face was against hers, and she drew in the heady scent of him. “Hang on, Jade.” His whisper stroked her skin like a caress. “The ride has only just begun.”

  ———

  He carried her through the sky above the city, over the skyscrapers of downtown, past the lights of the Galleria and Post Oak, then farther north, over houses and apartment complexes with swimming pools gleaming like aquamarines.

  She held on for dear life, saying nothing, not wanting to break the spell. She was with Renaldi, flying through the dark night sky in his arms. There was no need for words, no desire to do anything but burn every second of this night into her memory, to take reel after reel of mental pictures to savor for the rest of her life. Come what may, she’d always have this.

  Let the brides have their wedding days. This night was hers.

  Chapter 8

  Renaldi delivered them safely to a stone balcony on the second floor of an impressive home. Jade felt her feet make contact with terra firma and let out a sigh.

  “I don’t know whether to be sad that it’s over, or relieved that we survived.”

  “Was there ever any doubt?” His eyes told her that he knew better.

  “Of course there wasn’t.” She looked through the French doors into what appeared to be a decadently furnished bedroom. “Where are we?”

  “My home.” He reached around her to open one of the doors. “Please, come inside.”

  She followed him into a bedroom that rivaled the suite they’d rented for Antonio and Marie’s wedding night. The sweet strains of Beethoven’s “Pathétique” Sonata trilled through the air, and the scent of roses hung in the atmosphere like spilled perfume.

  A king-size bed that would’ve dominated a smaller room stood against the far wall, covered in lush emerald green bedding.

  It was impossible to avoid picturing Renaldi on that bed, his nude skin a warm honey glow against all that deep green. Heat surged between her legs, urging her to continue the fantasy and follow it with action.

  Silence crowded the room like an uninvited guest. Jade knew Renaldi could sense her desire, the blood pulsing lower in her body. She looked up to find him watching her closely.

  Too closely.

  “Here we are.” She padded across the velvety thick cream colored carpet and sat down on the edge of the bed. Why did she constantly seem to find herself in rooms with beds whenever this man was around? “Let’s talk.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to have the grand tour first?”

  Her chest tightened. “No. Let’s get this over with.” If they had to ruin the magic of the night with true confessions, better to do it now, before she spent one more second getting attached to him.

  He shrugged. “Very well, then.” He crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. “Melaina did order me to take a bride before the next full moon, a bride from among our Court or the Order of St. Germain.” She began to speak but he stopped her. “Only for the sake of presenting a united front when we confront our enemies at Dracula’s ball in a few months.”

  “Enemies?” She widened her eyes.

  He explained the inner workings of the Court and the Order, filling her in on the problems presented by the rogue vamps of House Minotaur. “You see, a master vampire who has not bound himself is a walking target for an unethical member of the undead. They could hijack me, forging an energy-based connection with me to force me to their side.”

  She shook her head. “I had no idea.”

  He gave her a faint smile. “How could you know?” He chased his words with a sigh. “But what Melaina didn’t know is that I have no choice when it comes to you. The matter has already been decided for me.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  He tipped her chin up with his hand. “You, mi amour, are my thunderbolt.”

  Trying not to fall under the hypnotic power of his eyes, she found her voice. “You said that the other night.”

  “It’s an old Italian legend.” He took her hands in his. “Once in every man’s life, he sees a woman who strikes him like a bolt from the sky. Time stands still, his heart stops beating, and the world stops spinning on its axis.” His hands squeezed hers. “Nothing matters, nothing, until he makes this woman his.” He inclined his head toward hers. “I waited centuries to find my thunderbolt, and no order from a vampire empress is going to keep me away from you.”

  “I don’t see how you can avoid an order from her.” Jade’s heart raced at his nearness. He invaded her senses, laying claim to them until it was hard to remember anything existed outside of the circle of his arms.

  “There are ways around it… but only if you consent to them.” His lips brushed hers. “I don’t know if I can help myself tonight.”

  Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, as if they moved of their own accord. “What do you mean?” Although she had a feeling she knew, as she pushed the j
acket off his warm body and heard it hit the carpet with a rustle of fabric.

  “If you let me kiss you, I’m going to make love to you.” He pulled the pins from her hair and ran his fingers through it, freeing the upswept curls until they tumbled to her shoulders. “And if I make love to you, I’m not going to stop until we both collapse from exhaustion or until I fall to the dawn, whichever comes first.”

  “Does it look like I’m going to stop you?” She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to run her hands over his bare chest, to memorize his body with her fingers like a book of Braille. “Make love to me until dawn. Tonight, I belong to you.”

  ———

  Renaldi swept his hands over her breasts like a starving man coveting priceless fruits. He shook from head to toe with a need so strong that it eclipsed everything else he’d ever felt. Every other woman and every other experience of his long life were nothing more than dress rehearsals, leading up to this moment.

  He watched as her eyelids fluttered shut, desire etched on every feature of her beautiful face. He wanted nothing less than to devour her, to bury himself inside her and make her his forever.

  He grasped the fabric of her bodice and pulled, ripping it open down the front.

  “Sorry, Brenda.” Her voice was a gasp.

  He leaned back. “Brenda?” Laughter erupted from his throat.

  “It’s a long story.” She reached out, bringing him closer. “Don’t stop.”

  He pushed the dress off her shoulders, revealing her luscious breasts nestled in a bra that pushed them up. He let out a curse in Italian.

  Her eyes flew open. “What’s wrong?” Her body tensed, instantly on high alert.

  “Nothing. The sight of your breasts makes me want to come, right here and now.” He cupped them, running his thumbs over her nipples, watching them tighten through the satiny fabric of her bra.

  “This dress has got to go, even if you do look like a virgin bride, waiting to be unwrapped like a wedding gift.” He pulled it down, helping her wiggle out of it until it pooled around her ankles in a heap of white satin and lace.

  He looked up to see her standing before him, clad in only her satin bra and matching panties and a pair of high heeled shoes. Suddenly being inside her wasn’t enough. He wanted to taste her, to drink her in like wine, like blood. “On the bed, please.”