"You won't see me again," Isa said, lowering the gun only after Robert had been handcuffed. "In fact, you'll never see Paul or Ritchie again either."
Which had been something Chance refused to negotiate on. Isa already had a hell of a time convincing him that Robert needed to live in order to stand trial for the multiple murders, racketeering, embezzlement, and bribery Frazier had spent three years gathering evidence on. But Ritchie and Paul? Small potatoes.
Or, as Isa surmised right about now, dinner. They'd been assigned to watch the church's exterior in order to ensure that nothing unexpected happened. Like, oh, a few dozen SWAT team members barging in. But they'd mysteriously disappeared right before Isa entered the chapel. Chance hadn't wanted to leave Isa's side during Robert's takedown at the altar, but Isa flatly insisted. She'd been pushed around by Robert for too long, so he'd know, in the end, exactly who helped put him in jail.
She wondered if Ritchie and Paul knew, in their last moments, that they were merely Chance's consolation prize. Still, dead was dead, as Chance had once stated. Guess the end result really was more important than the motivation behind it.
Several of the men being handcuffed from the groom's side of the church gave Isa very cold glares as they were led away. Mentally she shrugged. Frazier told her that she and her grandmother would need to be sequestered by Witness Protection until after all the trials, but Isa had other ideas. Ones that involved the very gorgeous vampire with a lot of friends in grave places. Chance would keep her and her grandmother hidden far more effectively than any government relocation program, and a lot more enjoyably, too. Isa doubted Witness Protection could provide the same kind of extracurricular perks that Chance did.
He came out from the back of the church, shouldering though the throngs of people and flashing the special ID Frazier had given him. His face looked more flushed than usual, and when he reached Isa's side and kissed her, his lips were almost warm.
Oh yeah. Bye bye, Paul and Ritchie.
"Are you ready to go?" he asked softly.
Isa nodded. "Big, fussy weddings were never my style, anyway."
Chance laughed. "I'll have to remember that."
Frazier came up to them then. "Isa, you're going to have to come back with us and give a statement. Plus, uh, I'm sure nothing will happen because it was self-defense, but you're going to have to be booked for shooting Robert."
"Right," Chance snorted. "Come here for a moment…"
He put an arm around Frazier in a friendly way, ignoring her brother's stammering about procedure. Then when Chance had him mostly concealed by the tall cross behind the altar, Isa saw his eyes go green. A moment later when they walked back out, Frazier had stopped talking.
"We have five minutes before he snaps out of it," Chance said to Isa with a wicked grin. "I didn't think I should leave your brother mentally asleep for longer, considering his current circumstances."
"How are we supposed to get past all," Isa's hand swept out to encompass the multitude of SWAT team members, FBI, and police officers, "this?"
"Never underestimate the resourcefulness of a vampire, darling," Chance murmured. Then he led her quickly to the nearby confessional box, squeezing them both inside.
The panel slid open at once on the priest's side, and a pale blonde head appeared next to the privacy grill.
"What are your sins, my child?" a smoothly accented English voice asked.
Chance laughed. "Too many to list, Bones, and so are yours. If you don't mind, I'd like to add to them."
"Indeed. Desecration of the confessional, coming up straightaway."
There was a tear of metal, and then the grille separating them was gone. Bones—this was the vampire her grandmother spoke about?—gave a hard tap at the wall behind him and it fell away, revealing an exit had been recently cut but then dry-walled back into place.
"The rectory," Bones supplied, crawling through. "Let's not dawdle."
Chance and Isa climbed through the space as well. With all the commotion, there should have been sufficient sound coverage to muffle their escape, but soon people would notice that the gun-toting bride was nowhere to be seen.
Once inside the rectory, Bones gestured to the window. "Your car's across the street. I'll stay here and delay anyone who might have a mind to come after you. Best get moving, or Greta may take off without you."
"You let a hundred and twenty-six-year-old woman drive my Camaro?" Chance asked in disbelief.
Bones laughed. "You're older than she is, who are you to throw stones?"
"How old are you?" Isa gasped. Okay, so she hadn't gotten around to asking some things.
"One hundred and forty-three," Chance supplied, giving her a quick kiss. "But don't worry, darling. I don't feel a day over the century mark."