My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding (8 page)

“The Red Skulls were nice enough to leave a couch open,” he said. “I thought about trying to find you, but I didn’t want to start opening doors.”

I wished he had.

When we made it to his room, he ducked his head inside the masculine, blue and green space, then back out to look at me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“House rules,” I said. “I’m across the hall.”

His lips quirked. “Did your mother say anything about me having guests?”
 

“Rule breaker,” I said, as he drew me inside.

“Count on it,” he said, his lips against my ear before he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me.

The sensation of it rushed over me and I melted into him and the sheer warm, sweet desire of it. The door slammed shut, and my back was suddenly against it. My body collided with his and I gave in to the sensation of completeness, belonging. Him.

At last I broke the kiss. He took the opportunity to nibble at my ear. “I can’t wait to marry you,” he murmured. I ground against him, making him groan.

Warmth flooded through me. “Me, too.”

I touched his cheek, his strong jaw.

He kissed my palm.
 

I wanted this to be an easy, simple, fun wedding week, but, “I need to tell you about what I found yesterday.” I took both of his hands in mine, drawing him over to the bed. He went quite willingly, happily in fact, until I began explaining to him about the old observatory.
 

The bed dipped as he sat next to me, and I handed him my cell phone with the pictures of what we’d found.

He studied it, stiffening as he enlarged the photo of the swirled design on the stone floor.
 
“It’s similar,” he said, tilting the phone to see.

“I know,” I said, trying not to worry. Failing. “That’s Pluto. I think the planetary designs have something to do with the old observatory.”

“Pluto’s not a planet,” he said.

“Thanks for reminding me.”

He frowned. “It’s clear that whoever built this had an occult fetish.” He handed me the phone. “Let’s hope it was a hobby and not the real thing. You didn’t mention sensing any danger.”

“This place feels okay.” Slightly weird. Definitely creepy with that lady wandering around the garden. “I saw a ghost, but Pirate had no clue she was there. I’m trying to understand it, but…”

“This is the dog that likes to play board games with the recently deceased.”
 

“Exactly.” I knew he’d understand.

“Rachmort’s getting in tonight. Let’s show him the pictures, maybe even take him out to the site.”

“Okay. Good.” I liked that. My mentor was a leading necromancer and one of the foremost experts on demonic powers.
 

Dimitri drew me close, his cheek resting against the top of my head. His other hand moved up my side seductively. “Now let me greet you properly.”
 

“Hmm,” I said, kissing him lightly on the neck. “You mean I get more than crispy bacon?”

We shared a long, deep kiss.
 

“One more thing,” I said, trying to stay focused. “And it’s not even about the wedding.”

“Too bad,” he said, leaning in to continue what we’d started.

“My powers aren’t working right lately.”

He drew back.

“I couldn’t levitate yesterday,” I told him. “Not that I’m great at it in the first place, but I couldn’t even get off the ground. Also, my protective emerald,” the one he’d given me, “it’s turning into jewelry instead of weapons.”

He touched the jewel at my throat and it warmed slightly. “It’s supposed to give you what you need.”

Like a way to contact the ghost. I had a sinking feeling that the woman I’d seen in the garden was the same Elizabeth whose grave I’d visited.

She’d said she needed my help. If she appeared again, I’d try to make contact.
Less panic, more action
. Was I a badass or what?

Dimitri turned the stone and we watched the facets catch the light. “I wonder if our powers are merging, now that we’re so close to being married.”

I nudged him. “You mean I get to fly?”

He grinned. “You know what I mean. The longer we’re together, I know I can sense your needs better. When you’re on the mark, when you’re hurting.”

I nuzzled his neck. “When I’m horny.”

His eyes darkened. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I dropped my head. “I’m not asking for protection.” Sure, he was mister tall, dark, and dangerous, but I could take care of myself, too. I ran a hand along his arm. “Where were you yesterday?”

He flexed his shoulders as he glanced away, then back at me. “I’m trying to think of a way to give you the simple version,” he said, irritation filtering into his voice. “The best way I can describe it is ‘clan business.’”

“That’s lame.”

He sighed. “I know.”
 

I swore some of these clans were worse than children fighting.

“Did you fix it?”
 

He didn’t look happy. “I will. Eventually.”
 

He wasn’t the ruler of his clan. His sisters were. At least they’d be arriving in a few days.

“Okay.” I knew he was dealing with a lot here. “Just call me next time.”
 

“I tried,” he said, frustrated. “Cell coverage is terrible around here. It’s like living in the stone age.”

I’d give him that. “Well, you had me worried sick.”
 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, embracing me.

“Be careful. I like you in one piece.”

He grinned at that. “What else do you like about me?”

“This,” I said, reaching up to brush a kiss over his lips. “This,” I continued, touching my lips to his collarbone. “This,” I murmured. He gave a small groan as I ran my hand over his waist, down to his thigh.

He leaned back on the bed and I climbed over him.

The door burst open behind us. “There you are.” Hillary stood in the doorway, holding a clipboard.

Fricking biker witches and their feel-good powder.
 

She appeared completely recovered. Perky, even. Well, until she saw what I had in my hand. Again.

“I thought you two understood you have separate rooms,” she said, her expression and her voice ice cold.

Dimitri sat up. “Listen, Hillary—”

“We do,” I said tightly, cutting him off, holding his leg in a death grip.

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Finally, she said, “I’m calling a meeting so that we can go over our exciting week to come,” she said. “Are you ready?”

No.

“Yes,” I said, taking Dimitri’s hand.

***

I grabbed a shower on the way, a cold one, and changed into a lilac sundress and straw wedge heels. It was about the only thing that could halt this parade, and not for long.

Hillary waited while I got ready, then escorted Dimitri and me to the sitting room where—curse our luck—she’d recovered enough to set up a large message board on an easel. It was draped in white cloth, like some sort of fabulous surprise. We all knew better than that.

She stood at the front of the room, quite proud of her creation while the biker witches burrowed into various couches and chairs like students on a Monday morning.

No surprise that the couch at the very front of the class was unoccupied. I sat, trying to stay positive, and was rewarded when Grandma joined me. Dimitri took the spot on the other side and Ant Eater, who was paying the price for wandering in late, plopped down into the chair next to us.
 

“Your fault for making her feel better,” I said under my breath to the gold-toothed witch.

She didn’t even have the courtesy to look guilty.

At least she’d changed out of that god-awful tea party dress and back into her leather pants and black T-shirt. She had her sleeves rolled up and was half-heartedly playing with a vial that contained a glittering gold spell.

For reasons that escaped me, Hillary had changed clothes as well. She was a vision in white, with ivory skinny jeans and a lace shirt, set off with a thin gold chain around her neck and tiny gold ball earrings. Then again, this was the woman who gardened in sundresses.
 

What I’d give for a leather skirt and a matching bustier.

My mom clapped her hands together. “Okay, everyone. It’s time to get started. Are you as excited as I am?”

Dimitri leaned close. “I would have been more excited if she’d have given us a few more minutes,” he whispered in my ear.

Oh, Lord. Imagine what she could have walked in on.
 

Hillary would have had a heart attack.

With the flourish of a model from
The
Price Is Right
, she unveiled a long dry-erase board. It was divided into subsections and meticulously filled-out in red, black and green ink, which frankly made it look more like an invasion plan than a wedding party schedule.
 

She tucked her blond hair behind her ears. “We have a packed week, and it’s going to be so much fun as long as you follow the rules.” She eyed the crowd, pleased as all get out to be running the show. “First off, in precisely seven minutes, we will begin the bonbon favor making party.”

I swear I heard Ant Eater groan.

Dimitri shifted in his seat. “You don’t need me for that,” he reasoned.

“What? You only want to be here for the fun parts?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.

Too bad. If I had to do it, it didn’t seem fair for him to make an escape, simply because he had a penis. Even if it was a really nice one.

Hillary was on a roll. “Tonight at six o’clock sharp is the fork and knife barbecue. With a live band playing jazzy renditions of your favorite country hits.”

“Elevator music,” Grandma said under her breath.
 

I tried to ignore her because it was probably true.

Hillary pointed to the next board. “Tomorrow, at nine a.m. sharp, Ixia Papos will arrive from the Greek Institute to teach us some lovely ways to greet Lizzie’s new in-laws. Then at eleven a.m. sharp…”

Dimitri sat like a statue, muscled arms crossed over his chest, staring into space. “I’d rather check out that observatory.”

I eyed his strong, Grecian profile. “Not without me.”
 

“Then let’s get out of here,” he prodded.

I sighed.

“Where are you going?” Grandma asked.
 

“Nowhere,” I insisted.

“Okay, wedding favors!” My mother clapped her hands again. “You three. Pay attention.”

He caught my hand and wrapped it in his. It was warm and solid. “Fine,” he said. “I’m staying.”

Okay, but I really could hack it. “In case you don’t remember, I was the one who got you out of hell.” He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. “I was also the one who blasted that entire army of sex-on-wheels succubi.”

“Then I kept you from incinerating yourself,” he said under his breath.

Fair enough.

“Which time?” Grandma prodded.

“Shut it,” we said together, a little louder than was absolutely necessary.

“Have you even been paying attention?” Hillary bleated, her cheeks reddening, “because I don’t see how you’re going to make tulle wrapped bonbon favors correctly if you’re talking during the directions!”

“Sorry, Mom,” I said quickly.

Did anybody really care about wedding favors?
 

I didn’t. Then again, I was getting the feeling that this week leading up to the big day wasn’t about me.

I wriggled a little, trying to get more comfortable on my seat. The couch was old, and hard.
 

At least Hillary hadn’t heard what we were talking about. “We need to be more careful,” I muttered.

“Or, hey, here’s a thought—you could tell your mom you’re a demon slayer,” Grandma said under her breath, as if I could just blurt that out.

“I thought you were going to tell her,” Dimitri said, as Ant Eater passed him a stack of white tulle. He looked at it like it might jump up and bite him.

“Take fifteen pieces and pass it,” Hillary instructed.

He handed the entire wad to me. “I’ll watch and make sure you’re doing it right.”

“No,” Hillary strode over to our couch, heels clacking on the tile. “We need all the help we can get to make your wedding day perfect.” She stood above him. Even sitting, he was almost at eye level with her. Too bad for Dimitri, Hillary had an advanced degree in dagger eyes.

He looked like a trapped bear.

“Love means making compromises,” I told him, counting off fifteen squares of tulle and dropping them into his lap. Yes, he may be a hot-as-hell, badass shape-shifting griffin, but he still had to get along with his mother-in-law.

And if he was going to protect me from unseen dangers, he could at least make some wedding favors while he was at it.

“It can’t be worse than switch stars,” I told him. Handling them had taken years off his life. He’d grabbed an ice monster for me, he’d dealt with blood and guts and demon spittle. But a little tulle seemed to be his kryptonite.

If only our enemies knew his weakness.

He really did look miserable.

“Okay.” Far be it from me to cause him undue pain. “Why don’t you take off?” I asked. He wasn’t doing any good here. And yes, my powers did feel strange, but I wasn’t in any immediate danger. Besides, “I’ve got the Red Skulls.” I gave him a small smile.
 

He looked from me, to the tulle in his lap, to the schedule boasting events like flower headdress weaving and a ribbon tying party.

“I’m out of here,” he said, lightning fast as he stood. His griffin nature let him move a hair quicker than other men. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to it.
 

He kissed me on the head and was out the door before the tulle on the seat next to me stopped fluttering.

Typical man.

***

After a half hour of wrapping bonbons into little tulle squares, I changed my opinion.

He was a smart man.

I struggled to twist the top of the little bag while trying to tie a thin silk ribbon around it. I slipped, and the side of my hand crushed the bonbon. Gah. I’d never been good at crafts.