With a strange expression, Juliette holds out a small sky-blue compact. “For you.” She glances behind her, but the door is firmly closed. We’re the only ones here. “Giovanni asked me about something blue I was supposed to bring you?”
Shit. I take the compact and open it to reveal a small mirror. “Sorry about that. He heard the tail end of our conversation. I had to come up with something fast.”
“Me too,” she says, her cheeks pink. “I had to search my purse and act like I wasn’t sweating it. It was either the mirror or my Adderall pills.”
We share a look before breaking down into giggles. Lord knows I need a laugh after last night. It feels good to relax again, to have a friend. Maria, with her strange unexplained defensiveness of Giovanni, doesn’t count. I miss Amy. I miss Honor. Both of them should be here for today, even if it is a fake marriage.
I get up from the vanity seat and move to the bed, using the square foot of space the dress isn’t occupying. Juliette comes and sits next to me. This spot has the added advantage of being farther away from the door, so there’s less chance of being overheard.
She speaks low, holding my hands in hers. “I called the number you gave me and spoke to a girl.”
“Candy?”
“She didn’t tell me her name. She was pretty hostile, actually.”
“I’m sorry. She’s really fierce about protecting her friends, and I’ve been missing for days now.”
“I know. I told her what you said, that you were okay. That you were safe.” Juliette makes a face. “She asked for proof of life.”
“Oh my God. I do love that woman.” I sigh, missing all of them at once. It hits me like a freight train. “Well, she’ll tell my sister, and at least they’ll know I’m alive. And she’ll know to be on her guard.”
Juliette hesitates. “I told her my name.”
“Oh, but why? You didn’t have to do that.” I know how much she’s risking helping me.
“So that she could get in contact with me. I haven’t heard anything yet.”
I bite my lip. “I’m sure she’ll contact you.”
“What about the wedding?”
“What about it? I don’t have a choice.”
“I know, but it’s so messed up that you have to go along with this. What if you said no? I mean, Giovanni would be mad, but it’s not like he can make you marry him. Father Michaels wouldn’t pronounce you husband and wife if you don’t say ‘I do.’”
Father Michaels is the priest who officiates most of the family’s ceremonies. He has a larger church in Vegas proper, but for a private family affair like this one, he’ll use the chapel that’s on the property. He baptized me and gave me my first communion. I never had much love for the man or the hypocrisy of strict religious rules in a family of monsters, but he had to be past eighty-five.
Last night I held Giovanni’s body while he shot a man in cold blood, felt the complete lack of reaction. He’s capable of anything.
“No. I’m not going to risk anything happening at the wedding. If I was going to put up a fight, I’d do it here, in this room…” I look over at the dress. Fairy tale. “But I don’t really see the point in that either. He’ll get what he wants either way.”
Her eyes are troubled. “I feel bad I can’t do more.”
“You’ve already done plenty.” The phone call is a huge weight off my mind. I know that Kip will keep Honor safe once he understands the nature of the threat. Not some random psycho on campus but a targeted kidnapping connected to our past.
For that matter Honor has done plenty too. She protected me the best that she could, and in my own way, I protected her back. There were things she didn’t need to know, things that would only have endangered her. Things my father did. And now this.
It seems that my father and Giovanni are alike after all.
*
Juliette walks with me from the mansion, helping me keep the hem of the gorgeous dress off the dirt path. I’m not sure why it matters, but that’s how the family operates—propriety first, consent second. The blue compact is tucked into my garter belt, snug and secure. I figure it counts for both borrowed and blue. The dress and everything else are new. I don’t have anything exactly old, but three out of four isn’t bad.
We’re escorted by Romero, who spends most of the walk pretending not to look at Juliette. He waits outside as we go in.
I expected the crowd to be small. What I didn’t expected was to see only three people in the chapel. Giovanni stands halfway down the aisle, still and almost contemplative. Behind him I can see Father Michaels between the pews. Beside him stands a man I vaguely recognize as Lorenzo, Giovanni’s cousin. I remember that they were close even though Lorenzo’s parents weren’t officially in the life.
Giovanni comes down the aisle to meet me. “You look beautiful,” he says soberly.
I nod my thanks. “So do you.”
His lips quirk. “I know this isn’t what you dreamed of.”