The entire vampire community of Seattle seemed to be seated in the gallery below. As Nerissa and I peeked out the curtain on one of the side balconies, I realized that if the Fellowship of the Earthborn Brethren wanted to damage the vamp population, they should have attended with flamethrowers and stakes. Luckily, my guess was they didn’t know squat about what was going on.
Roman hadn’t skimped on the decorations. A thousand flowers must have filled the hall, wound round every post, formed into garlands that draped leisurely across the stage, and the smell of gardenias and lilacs filled the air. An entire symphony was positioned in the orchestra pit, playing something I didn’t recognize—it was light, airy music, oddly out of keeping with the more gothic elements of the wedding, but it was pretty. A small choir stood behind them, waiting.
The guests filled the room—there must have been at least five hundred vamps out there in the audience. I knew full well they weren’t all from around here. They must have come on the run, summoned from different areas of the world, because Blood Wyne was the one officiating, and wherever you found a queen, you found members of her court. But where nobility walked, so did the requisite security, and they were lining the aisle and the edges of the stage. Except the ones on stage were actually hovering in the air, a circle of vampires ready to drop down on any enemy at the first sign of trouble.
I pulled back and closed the balcony’s curtain. The old theatre had once been grand, but now she was fading like an aging glamour girl. The brocade on the seats was still lovely, if a little threadbare, and the curtains on the stage were crimson to honor Blood Wyne. All in all, aged but still refined and elegant.
Nerissa and I were dressed and ready. Camille had fixed our hair and taken care of my makeup. The dresses fit perfectly, and she had found me a pair of shoes that would work fine—faux crocodile peep-toe pumps with four-inch heels and a one-inch platform. I was able to walk in them just fine. Delilah and Camille both looked gorgeous in their bridesmaids’ dresses, but Nerissa—she took my breath away. The beaded gown fit smoothly but snugly over her figure, and her hair was swept up into a chignon, with wispy tendrils curling down around her ears. Camille had found us jewelry, too—a sparkling Swarovski crystal tiara for Nerissa, and for me, gold combs to sweep my curls back into a cascading tangle down my back. I wore no necklace, but I did wear the wedding band Nerissa had given me. Nerissa was wearing a tiered necklace—ever-descending loops of sparkling crystal on a floating necklace. She, too, wore her wedding ring.
As she looked at me, tears formed in her eyes. “I know this isn’t our wedding day . . . not really . . . but you are so beautiful.” She leaned down and lightly brushed my cheek with her petal pink lips. “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”
“Well, make up your mind now because if you think we aren’t, we’d better get the hell out of town in the next twenty minutes. If we play the part of runaway brides, I guarantee we won’t be coming back to Seattle.” I gave her a toothy grin, then sobered. “Seriously, if you want to go, we will. I’ll leave with you. I won’t make you go through with this—ever. But make up your mind now.”
She paused, thinking it over for a moment, then shook her head. “No. We gave our word. And Roman gave his. I trust him to stick to our deal. And really, I do see the logic behind it. No, we’ll honor our end of the bargain.” And so we rejoined the others in the staging room. A dozen assistants were running around, making certain everything was ready.
Smoky, Morio, Trillian, and Shade were out in the audience. I wasn’t really worried about them. If any vamp even got the hint of an idea to put the fang to one of them, I figured the vamp would come out on the worst end of it. All Smoky and Shade would have to do was to turn into dragons and that would put a stop to any such idea. I wondered if Roman’s brothers and sisters were here—at least the ones who were capable of traveling and not out for his blood—but decided not to ask.
Roman entered the room, followed by an entourage of security officers. His warlord’s body cut a gorgeous figure, dressed in a pair of black leather pants, and a crimson shirt, open at the neck, and his hair was out of the ponytail, hanging long around his shoulders, silken and shining. He wore a golden crown—a circlet that fit snugly around his head. As he glanced at me, the smile that crept around the corner of his lips would have made me catch my breath, if I still breathed. He was captivating, his glamour out in full force, and the fact that he was my sire only made it have more impact. But I knew I wasn’t the only one. Beside me, Nerissa gasped as I nudged her with my elbow and she turned around.
“Roman . . .” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“You’re gorgeous.” Nerissa said it for me.