Page 6 of Fanged Desire
Wedding of the year. That’s what people were calling it, and looking around, I couldn’t argue with them. Jordan and Sky had spared no expense for their big day. The sprawling estate was decorated to perfection, ivory-draped tents, and an endless array of flowers grown right there in Sigred’s gardens. The ten thousand fairy lights were the cherry on top, illuminating the gathering as dusk ushered in another hot summer night.
Everyone was there – business associates, Leyore nobles, old friends, and a few new ones too. I spotted Ursula, the little witch and occasional babysitter of Jordan’s terrible twins. The toddlers were there too, puffed up and pompous with their title ofring bearers. They were cute, until they got a hold of you and covered your steam-pressed suit with whatever sticky substance they’d last laid their hands on. I made sure to stay well out of their field of view.
I was hiding out near the drinks table when Dylan appeared at my elbow, radiant in a deep blue dress. “Are you allergic to children or do you just despise those two?”
“Jesus Christ!” I started despite myself, nearly toppling the table when I jolted forward. “Don’t sneak up on me like that unless youwantto spill blood at this wedding.”
Dylan shrugged, flashing a faint, fanged smile in insincere apology.
“Nah, it’s not just Hazel and Hilda.” River was at my back a moment later; the clairvoyant vamp could never pass up an opportunity to tease her so-called friends. “Hunter hates all children.”
“I like them just fine.” I spoke through gritted teeth, collecting my composure and brushing a hand through my hair. “So long as they stay far away from me.”
I adjusted my suit jacket, casting a casual glance over my companions. Amara had joined the congregation, sidling up alongside Dylan and shooting me a shy smile. Dylan unconsciously wove her arm around her wife’s waist, a casual show of affection that made something in my chest clench. But I brushed the sensation aside, shifting my focus to avoid cracking my relaxed expression.
They were all radiant, so much so that one might condemn them for outshining the brides. But if that was the case, you haven’t laid eyes on Jordan and Sky.
I’d already greeted both of them, alternating between them while they prepared for the ceremony. Jordan was a force to be reckoned with, a hurricane of red hair and unbridled excitement. River had to talk her down from marching across the gardens to marry her lover immediately.
Sky was a little more composed, but I’d never seen her smile so brightly. I had guarded her from an enthusiastic Maxine,who came at her with a hairbrush and curling iron, brandishing mascara like a lethal weapon.
They had both since disappeared into the mouth of the manor, waiting to be summoned for the opening ceremony. Already, guests were finding their seats, filling the chairs that flanked the string of lights stretching across the grass. I followed after the others, taking a seat near the back and settling in to watch one of my best friends marry the love of her life.
The music faded and then began anew, and the air buzzed with quiet anticipation. All around me, conversation reduced to soft murmurs and whispered chatter as the ceremony began, just in time to catch the golden glow of the setting sun. Tonight was about Jordan and Sky, two people who had defied the odds and made the strange world of supernatural alliances their own personal love story.
A hush fell over the crowd, and I glanced toward the manor. From opposite sides of the grand estate, Jordan and Sky appeared at the same time. Jordan, in a golden draped dress, looked more polished than I had ever seen her. But her unruly hair tumbled down her shoulders like always. And Sky, in an elegant, flowing number that shimmered in the evening light, drifted across the pathway like a falling star.
They walked toward each other as the music swelled, moving with a quiet, deliberate grace. It wasn’t the typical procession of one partner waiting at the altar for the other, it was two equals, coming together from separate paths to meet in the middle.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched them approach one another. The love between them was almost palpable, radiating with every step they took. Jordan’s face, usually so overtly expressive, was softened with what looked a lot like barely contained tears of joy. Sky looked equally enraptured, her expression full of warmth as she made her way toward her lover.When they met in the middle they took each other’s hands, and the world seemed to pause just for them.
Despite the beautiful procession, a sudden, uncomfortably familiar ache bloomed deep inside my chest. I swallowed it, fingers curling around the edge of my chair as I watched Jordan and Sky standing together, exchanging soft murmurs and tender smiles. The officiant began speaking, but I barely registered the words. All I could see was the way Jordan looked at Sky – as though nothing else in the world mattered but her.
I wouldn’t admit it, not even to myself, but the sight of their love – pure, unguarded, and tender, made something in my heart churn. Love like that wasn’t meant for people like me. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want it. Just a little bit.
I watched with a small smile as the twins, dolled up in matching dresses, tottered forward to proudly deliver the rings. I watched Jordan and Sky exchange them, their hands trembling slightly as they slid the bands onto each other’s fingers. When they kissed, sealing the vows they had made back when they first fell in love, the crowd erupted into cheers, but I couldn’t move. My heart was too busy twisting into gnarled knots that proved increasingly difficult to unravel.
Later that night I ended up on the balcony, leaning over the balustrade with a cigarette between my teeth. Smoking didn’t do much for vampires, but there was small comfort in having something to do with my hands. Below me, the celebrations spilled out into the gardens, loud laughter and indecipherable chatter spirited away by the faint breeze.
And yet, despite the celebratory atmosphere, I couldn’t shake the itch under my skin, that restless energy that had nothing to do with the wedding or the crowds, or even the dwindlingred liquid in my glass. My mind insisted on wandering back to Micere, the nightclub that had been occupying far too much of my thoughts as of late. Or rather, one specific dancer who had a way of commanding my attention without much effort on her part.
Kinsley. The brunette with a surprisingly bendy back and a mind I was eager to untangle.
I had been stopping by the club over the past few months more often than I was proud to admit. Never too close, always at the bar, a Bloody Mary in hand, shamelessly watching the same woman glide across the stage. I hadn’t returned to cash in another private session. Not yet, at least. As if watching from the bar might keep me at a safe distance. To Kinsley, it might have seemed like her fanciful new client was playing hard to get. But in truth, I hadn’t worked up the courage to speak with her again.
Maybe it was better that way – keeping my distance, appreciating from afar. The last thing I needed was to get too close, to blur the line I had so carefully laid out for myself. It was safer to hang back. Or at least that’s what I wanted to believe. Still, the pull was undeniable, and I found myself glancing at my watch, eager to slip out early enough to catch Kinsley’s next performance.
My traitorous thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, lilting voice. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
“What’s got you all distracted? You’re supposed to be congratulating the brides.”
I apprehensively dragged my eyes up to find Maxine grinning at me, before the petite, preening vamp shrugged. “Or giving your condolences, I guess. Sky is officially doomed to deal with Jordan for the rest of her life.”
From the flush in her cheeks, she was clearly riding the wave of wedding euphoria, sloshing what I suspected was her third orfourth crimson cocktail in her hand. There was a playful note to her words, but those amber eyes were inconspicuously watchful.
Maxine always noticed more than she let on. Her talent for perception was artfully hidden under layers of chiffon and designer shoes. Tonight she was dressed to the nines, sage silk and silver jewelry, like a dryad far from her forest. And she was also keenly aware that my mind was miles from here.
“Funny,” I murmured, sipping the last of my drink. “Let’s hear you say that to Jordan’s face. I’m sure she’d love to have you working overtime next week.”
