Sacrifice (Gryphon Series) (21 page)

The bus shifted
as Big Mike maneuvered his enormous frame down the narrow stairs. He gave a cursory nod with his teeth locked around that ever-present cigar. If he was impressed, it didn’t show. This dude was too cool to emote.

As h
e flung his tattered duffel bag over his shoulder he gave the framed picture a double take. “Huh. That must’ve been before he got his scar.”

He strode across the yard w
ith no further explanation.

“Wait
…
what
?” Gabe and I both called after him.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR

The tour of the Biltmore taught me two things. 1) Every room was more posh and extravagant than the last. 2) It would be very easy to get lost in this sprawling estate. Someone could venture off in search of a bathroom and never come back. The buddy system was going to have to be in full effect.

Fredrick paused just long enough for me to admire
the dining room with a sweeping glance. Wood beamed ceilings soared overhead. The hardwood floors were polished to a flawless gleam. A stone fireplace took up one entire wall with intricate pictures carved into its rock face. Two gigantic chandeliers hung over the beautifully ornate table that was large enough to seat two dozen people easily. Antique tapestries weaved in deep reds, golds, browns, and blues, hung from the walls to add warmth to the room.

From there we hustled through the library. Every wall—including those on the balcony—had built in bookshelves jam packed with various classics. The railings, crown molding, and fireplace mantel rose up to meet the ceiling with the most intricately carved woodwork I had ever seen. Plush ruby-colored chairs and couches were positioned around the room for guests’ reading and relaxing comfort. Not that we took even a second to relax and enjoy it as Fredrick ushered me along at the speed of light.

My abbreviated tour ended
abruptly when Fredrick deposited me at the door of Alaina’s bridal suite. To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure what happened after that. The door flew open, someone muttered, “About darn time!” and yanked me into the room. Bony hands shoved me up onto a tiny footstool and I got barked at to stay. Mostly out of confusion, I complied.

The
room looked like the residence of sunshine itself. Soft goldenrod paint coated the walls with accent trim in a brilliant white. The supple gold silk curtains and dust ruffle perfectly matched the paint. Two wing-backed chairs, the bedspread, and even the upholstered canopy over the bed were rich shades of brown with gold weaved through them. A table overflowing with goodies had been wheeled into the middle of the room. In the center rested a stunning arrangement of white roses and curly rods of willow. Around that sat every kind of cracker, cheese, or fruit a person could want and champagne flutes filled with sparkling lemonade. The decadence of it all made it look even more inviting. Temptation won out and I reached for a grape. A hand shot out of nowhere and slapped mine away.

“
Don’t move!” snapped a small, wrinkly old woman with an expression so sour the very idea of smiling would probably shatter her head. Thin, sandpaper skin made coarse from years of handling fabric clasped my forearms. “Stand straight!”

She snatched the tape measure draped around her neck and began measur
ing every inch of me. I sincerely hoped she was the person in charge of the dress fittings, or this was just awkward and inappropriate.

Alaina
picked that moment to stride in from her private bathroom. “Celeste! There you are! I see you’ve met Helga.”

“We’ve met,
” I squeaked as Helga goosed me with her tape measure.

The posh life suit
ed our bride-to-be quite well. She plucked a champagne flute from the table and rolled the stem between her fingers before bringing it to her lips. An appreciative moan escaped her lips. “So, do I get to see the dresses I have to choose from or … ”

“No!”
The wrinkled old woman barked and hopped down from her footstool. She scribbled one last measurement on a yellow legal pad then stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

A
light blush warmed Alaina’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to insult her.”

“I think she works with fabric instead of people
so no one catches on to the fact that she’s the devil.” Out of spite I plucked a handful of the formerly forbidden grapes and shoved them in my mouth.

When h
er moss green eyes widened to alarmed Os it occurred to me that jokes like that probably weren’t well received by someone that grew up in the Spirit Plane.

“She’
s not a people person,” I clarified as I chomped. “Not
actually
the devil.”

Alaina breathed a silent
phew
and took another sip of her lemonade. Just as I picked up a glass of my own, a soft knock sounded on the heavy six-panel door and Mom poked her head in.

“
Hello, Alaina.” I knew that smile. That was the fake smile she wore in dire circumstances when she was about to snap. Nothing good ever followed that smile. “Your room is lovely, dear. Celeste, can I borrow you for a quick sec?”

“Sure
.” I set my glass back down and followed her out into the hall.

“You’re talking through your teeth and that vein i
n your temple is throbbing,” I pointed out as soon as the door clicked shut behind us. “I take that to mean the wedding fun train is rolling on.”

Mom
pressed her lips together and peered down the hall in one direction and then the other. Convinced it was all clear, she leaned in and hissed, “I don’t know what religion Alaina’s relatives are, but they’re gathered in the Grand Foyer holding hands and chanting at the front door. It’s not my place to question anyone’s beliefs, but our guests are finding it a bit … off putting … to walk in and get chanted at.” She gave my arm a quick squeeze. “Could you talk to them, sweetheart … please? You know them better than I do.”

So much for being
stealthy with the supernatural stuff.

“
Sure, Mom. I’ll take care of it,” I said with a tight smile and turned to stride off down the hallway.

“Other way,
dear.”

I spun
around and marched in the opposite direction. “Stupid big house.”     

The low heels of
the sensible, yet cute, shoes I’d been told to change into shortly after we arrived clicked over the polished wood floors and echoed through the cathedral of a hallway. It would’ve been nice if my black pencil skirt allowed me a longer stride, but apparently urgent matters were not factored in when this particular item of clothing was designed. After all the guests were settled, we were supposed to meet on the back lawn for the ceremony rehearsal immediately followed by a catered dinner in the ballroom. For the occasion I’d been forced into heels, a sleeveless white shift blouse that buttoned up the back, and the infuriating skirt that caused me to shuffle like a penguin.

Staff members buzzed here and there
as they prepped for the wedding festivities. They strung rose and ivy garland down the hall, whisked candelabra centerpieces off to the ballroom, set up tables and chairs, and escorted guests to their rooms. I smoothed a renegade lock of hair that had fallen from the half-hearted twist I attempted and tried not to think about the knot of pain flaring in my chest. Surrounded by this spectacle celebrating the many facets of love I couldn’t
not
think about Caleb. Pain sawed into my heart with a dull, jagged edge and caused my hands to tremble. It would be so easy to seek out the comfort Rowan offered, but that vice needed to stop. Now. Since admitting to myself that I really was using him it didn’t feel right to allow it to continue. Six months too late I was finally going to deal with losing Caleb. I needed to meet the gut wrenching sorrow head on starting now. No more easy fixes.

G
uests milled about in the massive foyer gaping at the splendor of the elaborate winding staircase where Grams stood center stage. “This staircase was considered for
Gone with the Wind
but we turned it down because we like to keep our anonymity. Which, of course, is why I never mentioned my connection to the Biltmore bloodline.”

Despite my mood
, I couldn’t help but chuckle. I adored that crazy old broad. She had even changed into an outfit she deemed worthy of the Biltmore; a hat that looked like she’d plucked a parrot and hot glued its feathers to a beanie cap and a blue sequin dress straight out of the
Copa Cabana
. She shot me a wink through freshly applied fake eyelashes.

The reprieve she gifted me from my melancholy
provided just the boost I needed. With a deep, cleansing breath I pushed my way through the crowd and even managed to mingle as I went.

“Aunt Mildred, it’s so nice to see you!
Cousin Connie! Have you lost weight? Uncle Lestor, you dropped your box of … toupees. Let me help you with that. Wow, that one’s—festive. There you go. If you head over to that gentleman he’ll show you to your rooms. His name is Fredrick.”

Mid-way
through the packed foyer the crowd parted. Some people tried to look anywhere except directly at the spectacle the Council members created. Others openly stared. The majority of guests scurried past as quickly as possible.

I ran a hand over my face and s
lowly shook my head. Bernard, Big Mike, the cranky redhead, the Grand Councilwoman, and Sophia stood shoulder to shoulder holding hands. Their gazes focused and intense … and seemingly directed at the front door. The rhythmic chorus of their chant echoed through the foyer and resonated down the halls.

“
Haud malum , haud everto , haud diabolus vadum penetro hic. Servo is terra. Servo is domus. Servo illa populus.
Haud malum , haud everto , haud diabolus vadum penetro hic. Servo is terra. Servo is domus. Servo illa populus.
Haud malum , haud everto , haud diabolus vadum penetro hic. Servo is terra. Servo is domus. Servo illa populus.”

The
Capshaw’s, our next door neighbors from back in Michigan, entered the house to that booming chant. The poor couple jumped and lost hold of their luggage. It popped open and littered the floor with their clothing and unmentionables. As they scampered to gather up their belongings I hooked my hand around Sophia’s arm and yanked her around to face me.

“Oh
hey, Celeste! Can you believe this place? This is like luxury redefined!” Her almond shaped eyes glittered with appreciation. She oozed femininity with dark hair piled on top of her head and a silky red dress that hugged her curves. I suddenly felt like a little kid playing dress up.

“
Can the small talk. What’s going on?”

Her eyes flicked to
the Grand Councilwoman before she leaned in to whisper, “The Council needed the protection spell up STAT. For urgent situations like this it’s always best to call in a muse. We’re like magical amplifiers.”

“Why is there urgency?” I
asked through my teeth all the while keeping my fake smile in place for our guests.

“They didn’t tell you? I
… uhhh … ” Her words trailed off and she gnawed on her lower lip.

After that she
clammed right up, her leery gaze focused on her big boss. I took that as my cue to go straight to the root of the problem. I sidestepped around Sophia and used a little bit more Conduit strength than I needed to when I thumped the Grand Councilwoman’s bony shoulder with the palm of my hand. She stumbled forward, her haughty glare at full wattage when she turned my way.

“I beg your pardon.” Her words
came out clipped with annoyance.

“What part of
‘blending in’ do you not get?” I pointedly glanced around the room then back to her with my eyebrows raised.

She pulled herself up ramrod straight and folded her hands
. “I make no apologies for the discomfort of outsiders when I am acting in their stead to protect them.”

“Protect them from what?” I hissed
. “A fantastic time in a gorgeous mansion? ‘Cause that’s all I see you accomplishing here.”

The Coun
cilwoman peered down her nose at me. “Leave it to the Conduit of the Gryphon to speak about a situation she doesn’t fully understand.”

The
redhead snorted a humorless laugh.

I crossed my arms over my chest and
stared her down. “We haven’t been formally introduced, you must be the Grand Councilwoman’s lapdog.”

The girl’s nostrils flared. Her lips disappeared into a
stern, white line.

“
Terin,” the Councilwoman spoke as if disciplining a naughty child, “do not let her goad you into reducing yourself to her adolescent,
human
level. We have a job to do. One she is currently hindering us from.”

“Yes, Grand Coun
cilwoman,” she murmured in a husky voice. “My apologies.”

They turned their backs to me and clasped hands once more.