The Elopement That Wasn’t (prt 3)
Copyright Faith Hunter 2024
Below is the third part of the freebie serial. As before: this is ROUGH,
unedited, and way overdue! I’ve turned off comments here, but if you want to
point out typos, or cannon inconstancies, you can do so at the Faith Hunter
Official FaceBook page: https://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter
This story starts shortly after FINAL HEIR, and just before book 6 of the
Soulwood series.
The ride to the Sunrise Stone Chapel was raucous, though Molly and Angie, sitting to either side of me in the limo, were quiet. They sensed my mood. Not sad. Just … too much. My life was sometimes too much. And the dress. And a wedding. And Quint in a hospital bed, healing because Koun had waked, put on his tux, and gone to the hospital to feed her.
Koun didn’t like feeding people, though he made exceptions for close family. Sometimes. But my personal psycho, Quint? He fed her. Never said why her and not others of the security team. He just went. He had reported back that she was snarly and cursing and threatening everyone because her own crew wouldn’t let her check out against medical advice (despite having pins and plates and other people’s blood in her) and come to the wedding. So, normal, I guessed. For her.
At the chapel, the limo pulled up to the bride’s entrance, and my cadre of female attendants rushed into the church to find my male attendants. Molly, Angie, and I got out more slowly. The chapel was situated near the crest of a hill, a mountain in the background, far-off house lights visible in the dark of winter, the moon hanging in the trees. The chapel was a rich man’s whimsy, based roughly on some fancy church in France, the stone cut from his personal Appalachian quarry, the beams reclaimed from old Pennsylvania barns, the pews from four smaller churches, none padding. The carpet had been made to his exact specifications in Iran, knotted by hand. He got the chapel finished. Then he died. His only heir to the chapel and his palatial home next door, was a single woman with a dozen cats. She had opened a wedding chapel and turned his home into an inn. “And here we are,” I said.
Molly grinned at me. “You’d rather be in bar fight than get married this way, wouldn’t you.”
“Yeah.”
“But you look so pretty, Ant Jane,” Angie said, reaching out to touch a pearl and a citrine on the pointed sleeve, shining against the black lace. “Like a model or an actress on a red carpet. And so do all the rest of us.” She angled her face up to mine, a slightly sly expression on hers. Her tone hardened almost imperceptibly. “Anyone who wants to cause trouble will die.”
“Oh Lordy,” Molly said. “What have you done, little girl?”
“Nothing,” Angie Baby said, sounding more innocent than a cherub. She shrugged. “I just know. I saw it before my angel left.”
Molly turned and pulled her daughter toward the church, leaving me alone. Angie turned back and grinned at me.
Eli sauntered down the walkway from the chapel’s bride’s entrance, his hands in his pockets, and a big grin on his dark skinned face. He looked like something from a men’s mag, except more self-assured than any almost-but-not-quite-human man should. When he was close enough to not have to yell, he said, “You’re hating every second of this, aren’t you, babe.” His teeth flashed in the dark.
He looked unexpectedly calm, projecting tranquility, the serenity of a Buddhist monk. But we’d been attacked on the Dragon. Sooo … “’Anyone who wants to cause trouble will die,’” I repeated. “Angie said that. Where are our shooters?”
“Got one on a balcony in the inn. Got two in the trees,” he nodded to show me generally where. “Big Evan already a witch circle for a blood-hedge around the chapel. It took him two days to mark, yesterday and today. He’s ready to go when you’re ready walk. All our guys have weapons. Every witch is ready with defensive and attack workings. Babe, this is the safest place on the planet right now.”
Without warning, the blood dropped through me to my feet. I relaxed. My next breath came easy, the first since Quint’s bike went down. “Oh.”
Eli’s face went from amused to concerned and he reached out a hand as if to support me. “Jane?”
I fanned him back and he stopped. “I’m stupid,” I admitted.
“Oh. You thought I didn’t plan— No. You knew I’d handle security, even without going over the details with you. Bridal jitters? You?”
“Quint. Blood. Coulda been dead. No vamp near to turn her. No medic close. Got me on edge.”
Eli tilted his head in an expression I didn’t understand but I caught the kindness and the certainty in his soul. “We got you, Babe. We all got you.” Like the military gentleman he was, Eli Younger held out an arm to me. I took it.
The safest place on earth. I was an idiot.
I walked to the small room just off the entrance where the bride was supposed to wait. My bridesmaids and matron of honor descended on me. This time I was okay with the girly crap. I let them take care of me. Let them boss me around. And everyone else be in charge.
Deon stuck his head in the door. “Your Magi—.” He stopped and said, “Janie? Are you ready?”
I looked him over, head to toe, and, as he did a slow pirouette for me, I clapped. “You look magnificent,” I said. He preened. “I especially like the jewels on the lapels. Tres chic.”
“I knew you’d love it. Everyone’s in place. Big Evan is ready to cast the hedge working. We’re all here, and Quint is on Facetime, though muted because she’s got a potty mouth when she’s doped on drugs and Koun’s blood. Oh, and your groom? He is to die for. The ass on that man!”
I laughed harder. And it occurred to me that, had I eloped, my life would have been a lot easier but lot more empty. Which brought tears to my eyes. Through them, I said, “I’m ready.” And I was.
Moments later the ward cast from the blood of my best friend’s husband shocked over us all and enclosed the chapel. Deon opened the door to the little room and made sure my dress was perfect.
Music sounded in the background. Some kind of string quartet music, convoluted and elegant. Just like the man I was going to marry.
Holy crap. I’m getting married.
The I/we of Beast is getting married, Beast thought at me.
I hope Bruiser doesn’t change his mind. He should. He’d be smart to run. But I hope he stays.
We have best mate. Bruiser is best mate. Even better than Leo and Grégoire and RickyBo together.
Yeah. He is.
My heart beating too hard in my ribcage, I followed Deon out and let him put me in position. I could see the line of attendants ahead of me. We had elected to have a non-traditional wedding in a few ways. Our attendants were already family, already joined through life and death, battle and peace. They were to walk down the aisle all mixed up together and form a solid line all around the dais. There was no bride’s side and groom’s side.
The music changed as a piano with low deep tones joined in, the strings floating over it. My attendants started down the only aisle, led down the center of the chapel by Angie Baby who threw yellow rose petals with each step. As she walked, someone spoke.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mithrans and Witches, Paranormals, Supernaturals, and Others. Jane Yellowrock and George Dumas welcome you.”
My heart hit my feet. My bouquet fell toward the floor. I knew that voice.
Before the flowers hit the floor, Deon caught the bouquet with one hand and my wrist with his other. “He asked.”
I met Deon’s calm eyes, a good foot lower than mine.
“He asked,” he repeated, “if he could perform the ceremony. You didn’t want to be involved in any preparations. I said yes.”
“Well that sucks. Leo, Leo Pellissier, is here, to marry me, to Bruiser?”
“Yes. Abdication of responsibilities has repercussions, Queenie, darlin’.”
Which was just mean. It meant I should have been more involved in the prep. I accepted the bouquet again and tried to decode how to feel about this development. Leo had planned to woo me and win me himself. When that didn’t work, he’d let me fall for Bruiser, thinking Bruiser would be a conduit to control me. Hadn’t worked out that way. Not at all. Instead, Bruiser had fallen for me right back and we had refused to do what Leo wanted. But Leo was a master planner, crafting layers upon layers of adaptable strategies. I had no idea if marrying me to Bruiser was a last minute whim, or if it served a purpose. Crap.
“Smile, Janie. You look like you mean to kill someone instead of marrying Bruiser.”
I huffed. Pasted a smile on my face. “Can’t I do both?”
Deon tittered. “You are such fun, Queenie. Go. This is your time.”
I took the first steps to the doorway, and the people who would walk me down the aisle; not to give me away, but as an honor guard. Molly grinned and wiped tears from her eyes. Koun, Eli, Alex, and Deon stepped toward me together. Deon removed the ostrich feather from his hat. The suits were back tux, black tie, and black shirts, with gold cummerbunds. My court colors.
Koun stepped to me and extended his left arm. Eli held out his right. I figured they had fought over who was going be hamstrung by having only his left arm free to shoot. Eli had lost, but he didn’t seem unhappy about it. Alex stood just in front of his brother, Deon in front of Koun.
Things didn’t feel exactly real. The world seemed distant, far off. A little too bright, too crystalline, glistening, the way the remnants of a dream can feel when one wakes facing the morning sun.
Exhaling, I slid my arms through Eli’s and Koun’s, a strange sensory moment. The wool of their jackets was smooth along the silk of my sleeves, a soft shush sound. Eli smelled of gun oil. Koun of the floral scent of vampires. Perfumes, vamp-scent, a hint of blood, flowed out to me from the sitting crowd. I blinked at all the smells, and the world steadied.
The music trailed off. There was a pregnant silence before the piano began notes I didn’t know. In that moment of silence, the gathering stood and turned to me. My gaze swept the crowd until I found Bruiser at the end of the aisle, white tie and tails, hands clasped in front of him. Waiting for me.
His eyes met mine down the length of the chapel, his dark as warm chocolate, so full of love. That instant connection between us was intense, like being hit by lightning, juddering through my body. He smiled. My smile trembled, becoming something real.
The music was not the traditional wedding march. It was something poignant, maybe from a ballet. The piano and the strings drew the attendants and then Molly and my group down the aisle.
Bruiser stepped down the aisle toward me. Leo Pellissier stood behind him on the dais, wearing his priest-like suit and collar. Vamps in a church. Leo an outclan priest. So much changed since the Mithrans got back their souls.
After that, everything was blur, until Leo pronounced us married: “Jane Yellowrock and George Dumas, the Dark Queen and the Prince Consort.”
Bruiser kissed me. Whispering, lips to lips, “I love you. I love you. I love you, forever.” The blood-hedge fell, shooting sparks of power across us, like holiday sparklers burning over our skin.
***
I wasn’t sure how we got there, but suddenly we were outside in the Sunrise Stone Chapel’s garden, tiny fairy lights strung everywhere, tables laden with food, including a suckling pig, steak tartare, salmon, a table of BBQ and country fixings provided by Lincoln Shaddock, MOC of Asheville, several tables of Louisiana favorites, chairs everywhere, a bar for humans, a more private blood-bar for the vamps, and a DJ playing Could I have this Dance for the Rest of My Life. We were mobbed, pictures were taken. And then a song began. I knew this one, though its name wouldn’t come to my tongue. It was the first song Bruiser and I had ever danced to. Latin beat. His arms went around me. And we danced. Just like that first time.
Hips to hips, my right though stepped between his legs, arms high and tight. My eyes held his brown ones. He adjusted his hold and dipped me. My left leg wrapped his thigh, holding myself in place. “I adore you,” he said.
A shot rang out. Bruiser staggered. Blood bloomed on the front of his shirt, at the juncture of his neck and collarbone. Scarlet over the white bow tie. Splashed over me. Hot. Another bloody gout, before the first could cool. He caught me to him with one arm. Eyes wide.
In a single eyeblink, I rammed my right leg down, into the ground. Feeling Eli on the move. Firing.
I shifted my weight but my body was bent wrong to hold us. Staggering, I screamed, “Koun! To me!”
People were shouting. Gunfire. Multiple shots. Bruiser’s blood … Pulse. Pulse. Carotid artery. Maybe subclavian. Or the main trunk artery between the two. His blood. Over me.
His knees buckled. My feet out of position for the weight. Beast shoved strength into me.
I twisted beneath Bruiser’s weight. My husband’s weight.
Eli raced behind me, lateral to my position. Firing.
Koun lifted Bruiser in one arm. Over his shoulder. Yanked me up, my upper arm in his hand. Racing vamp-fast. Dragging me. Out of the fairy lights. Into the dark.
Blood gouted from Bruiser. More shots fired. Bruiser’s next pulse slowed. Seven so far? More? Bleeding out. Dead in ten seconds.
More shots were fired. Koun cursed in some language I didn’t know. Shouted. All the lights went out. The music died.
Leo popped in front of us and eased Bruiser to the ground. The bigger Onorio was no burden to the much smaller vampire. Koun shouted orders. Covered us. Bare seconds had passed.
Leo ripped Bruiser’s shirt. Bit into Bruiser’s opposite shoulder. He held out his wrist to me. I jerked up the silk dress. Removed a throwing knife and my nine-mil. Sliced Leo’s wrist. Racked a round. Placed the weapon at my knee as Leo’s healing blood dripped into the entrance wound in Bruiser’s throat where it joined his shoulder.
I cut off a section of the voluminous skirt and crammed it into the exit wound on Bruiser’s upper back. The exit hole was the size of my palm. Fragments of bone scraped my flesh.
Koun appeared at Bruiser’s side. Held a wrist out to me. I sliced it. He added his blood to Leo’s, a faster stream into the bloody flesh.
The former master of the city of New Orleans was so pale he almost glowed in the moonlight, his blue veins a dark tracery, his hair a silken tangle in the night. Leo withdrew his fangs, licked the punctures closed, and nodded at the wound where his blood dripped. I cut another swath of fabric from my wedding dress. Padded it into the entrance wound, leaving a spot for Leo’s blood to trickle into. Took up my weapon again, scanning the area.
I wanted to hold Bruiser. Tell him everything would be okay. But I was needed here. Doing this. Keeping him safe while he stabilized. Onorios are hard to kill. Especially with Koun and Leo feeding and healing him. He would heal. He would. He had to. I was not going to be a widow on my wedding day.
Beast opened her vision, everything in greens and grays and I scanned the grounds for bodies, scanned the higher elevations looking for shooters. Where did Eli say our own shooters were? Above the bridal entrance. Had to have moved them to cover the back of the building. The party.
I saw a greenish form at the inn. Third floor. Ours? I couldn’t tell. Wouldn’t try that shot even if I knew it was an enemy. Odds of making it were nonexistent for me, with this weapon and with silver-lead rounds. They were good for close in work, not distance shooting. But I could aim at the window for cover fire if necessary. I had a full mag.
Koun was talking into comms, earwire in his ear. He took my small knife and sliced his other arm, this time bleeding into Bruiser’s mouth. I slid my short-bladed vamp-killer from its sheath on my leg.
The shooter at the inn adjusted a rifle. I tapped Koun’s shoulder and pointed at the Stone Inn. He nodded and spoke again. I was deaf from the shots. Cold. Very cold. Drying blood in the winter air. Future forecast was a nasty ice stormfront moving in. I could feel its bite in the air.
Koun tapped my shoulder and put his mouth to my ear so I could hear. “That’s Sarah. She took down one enemy at the edge of the woods. Spotted at least one enemy shooter on the chapel roof. None of our shooters can get to them.”
“All our shooters are human. We aren’t,” I said.
Koun’s pale eyebrows raised. He studied the grounds while slicing his arm again, adding more blood to Bruiser’s mouth. My Sweet Cheeks was actively swallowing. A massive weight fell off me, though he was far too pale in Beast’s night sight. Death pale.
Leo eased the saturated dressing, formerly a wedding dress, to the side and licked the wound, his saliva clotting the blood. Once that would have been gross to me. Now I was grateful.
Koun said, “Our shooters are moving into better position. We—”
A form popped into position in front of me. Sword. Slicing down. As aimed with my nine-mil, I lifted my blade, blocking the descending strike. Steel clanged on steel. I fired. Three shots. Silver. Mid-chest. The attacker grunted. Dropped to one knee. Her head fell off.
Lincoln Shaddock stood behind her, longsword raised, bloody, already curving to the side. Blocking the sword strike of another. Koun danced away, fighting a third, his two short swords forcing him to dart inside the opponent’s long swords. I fired at a fourth, but he disappeared, vamp-fast. So I shot the fifth one. Eli slid in, a black form in the dark. Cummerbund, the only thing on him that might reflect light, was gone. He took out two more. Koun, now holding longswords, beheaded all the downed warriors.
“Roof,” Koun said.
“And the pathway to the woods behind us,” Eli said. He handed me a handful of healing amulets. “Liz sent ’em. Use ’em.”
I shoved them against Bruiser’s shoulder and under the half-clotted dressing. Bruiser grunted. Breathed. I started shaking. Beast pushed something into my bloodstream and I steadied. Warmed.
“Lincoln Shaddock, Master of the City of Asheville,” Koun said. “Would you care to accompany me to the roof?”
Below is the second part of the freebie serial. As before: this is ROUGH, unedited, and way overdue! I’ve turned off comments here, but if you want to point out typos, or cannon inconstancies, you can do so at the Faith Hunter Official FaceBook page: https://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter
The Elopement That Wasn’t (prt 2) https://www.facebook.com/official.faith.hunter
Copyright Faith Hunter 2024
This story starts shortly after FINAL HEIR, and just before book 6 of the Soulwood series,
“Sounds like a party I’d be delighted to attend. I got an extra longsword or two hanging in the Fraser Fir.” Linc pointed his sword at the corner of the church.
Koun tossed and caught two swords removed from the attackers. “These are sufficient.”
Together, they vanished, the popping sound of air displacement unheard by my damaged ears. Vamp-speed.
Leo said, “I will protect my George. I will get him to a limo, where he is safe.”
Because all Leo’s limos were armored. Right. But, they were my limos now. More or less. But definitely, “My Bruiser,” I snarled.
Leo laughed, that smooth as silk sound that moved across my skin like warm feathers. I wanted to punch him in the face for that.
“Leo. Go,” Eli said. “Take Jane.”
“Like hell,” I said.
“Kiii… Kiii.” Bruiser stopped.
I wrapped my arms around him, my ear to his mouth.
He licked his lips and tried again, his breath almost too fast to talk. “Kick some … ass, Love. Be safe.”
I kissed him quick but gently. “Get well.”
Part three of The Elopement That Wasn’t
Copyright Faith Hunter 2024