Bruno didn’t argue, he just stood. He bent down to give me a tender kiss. Still leaning close, he whispered, “Whatever he wants, say no. You’ve done enough—more than enough.”
I didn’t answer. It wasn’t Bruno’s decision to make. It was mine. But I had to admit that I was leaning toward having the doctors give me enough sedatives to knock out an elephant, in hopes that I would be too deeply unconscious to dream.
Bruno straightened and shook his head. Walking past Igor, he gave the older man a very unfriendly look, but didn’t say a word. Only after the door was fully closed and we were alone did Igor come over to stand beside the bed.
“You are stronger than he knows,” Igor observed.
And more fragile than you think,
I thought. What I said was, “What do you need?”
He looked down at me, his expression so utterly bland that it was at odds with his words. “We interrogated Princess Olga thoroughly.” I winced. He didn’t say
torture,
but I couldn’t help thinking it. “While the man you knew as Jan Mortensen was one of their top men, he was not the head of the organization. That man is still in place. So long as he lives, the movement will continue.”
I didn’t speak, just waited. There was more. I could tell.
“They have one final plan in place for during the wedding tomorrow.” He sighed, sounding weary. Either the strain of the last few days was showing, or he was a superlative actor. I couldn’t tell. But the regret in his voice when he spoke next sounded sincere. “Unfortunately, the oath she had taken killed her before she could give us any details. But we have a plan.”
Of course they did, and judging by his presence here, it involved me. “Tell me.”
“We do not believe that the enemy knows that we discovered Princess Olga was the traitor. Her arrest was handled discreetly, as was her questioning. We have a spawn on staff who is capable of being Princess Olga for the duration of the wedding. He is one of our best agents. Having him in place in the wedding party will assure the safety of the king and offer us the opportunity to surprise the enemy, and possibly lead him into an indiscretion that will reveal the identity of their leader.”
It was possible. I wouldn’t have thought it was likely, but I wasn’t a spy. Igor was, and was good enough at his job to have risen to the top of the Ruslandic intelligence agency during a time of serious political turmoil. Too, the fact that it was the best chance didn’t mean it was a good one. I gave Igor a searching look and asked the million-dollar question. “Who do you think it is?”
“We don’t know,” he admitted. “But it has to be someone highly placed and close enough to the royal family for Olga to have been able to contact him or her freely and without notice. We have had her under close surveillance for the past several weeks.”
It made sense. And while Igor hadn’t said that Olga’s father, Prince Arkady, was a prime suspect, he had to be. Poor Dahlmar. He had already had to deal with the betrayal of his sons and his niece. Now his brother was a suspect, too. “So, what do you want from me?”
“Just do what you have been. Be the maid of honor. Guard the princess until the wedding is over.”
“That’s it?”
“We will handle the rest.”
He sounded awfully confident, but was he really? If he was that confident, why even tell me the plan? I could have just guarded her without needing to know all of this. I was emotionally battered and utterly weary. I wanted to crawl in a hole and not come out for at least a month, and they knew it. So why tell me?
Because Adriana needed me. If I quit now, and something happened to her, I would never forgive myself.
Igor watched while I worked it out in my head. “So telling me the plan will keep me in the wedding party, huh? Sadly, you’re right. But hey, how bad can it be?” I asked with a forced smile, even though I knew how stupid a question it was.
Igor smiled with me. His baring of teeth was as cynical as mine. What a pair we were.
* * *
Igor pulled strings so that I was released from the hospital immediately and with minimal fuss. Bruno didn’t say a word in argument, just glowered menacingly at all and sundry. I found this equally annoying and endearing. I was glad that he loved me and was worried about me. At the same time, I was irritated that he was trying to protect me, for the same reason I’d objected to protection in the first place. I knew that didn’t make sense, but emotions frequently don’t.
The doctor met alone with me one last time before letting me go.
Dr. Shablinski was an older woman, probably in her sixties. She wore her hair in a short, spiky style that suited her harsh features. She was striking but not pretty. And right now, she was annoyed and wasn’t bothering to hide it. I could hear it all too clearly in her heavily accented mental voice when she spoke to me mind-to-mind.
I am not pleased that you are leaving the hospital. It is too soon. Your ears will not be fully healed, and there is post-traumatic stress that needs to be dealt with. You must rest in order to heal, and I am certain you will not if you leave. So while I cannot stop you, you are doing this against medical advice.
I shrugged. What was there to say?
I understand and, actually, I agree with you. Once the wedding is over, I intend to take a nice, long vacation.
A … vacation.
Her voice sounded dry in my head.
How do you plan to do that if you can’t sleep?
Ouch. She was evidently as observant as she was efficient.
I don’t know. I keep remembering
… I let the sentence drag off unfinished, not wanting to repeat the demon’s parting words to me.
She sighed.
I am going to order a sedative for you—but only enough pills for one week. It will allow you dreamless slumber, but it is not a permanent solution. You will need to work something out with your cleric, and I would strongly suggest therapy. If you don’t have a therapist—
I have one back home on the mainland.
She nodded and started writing on a pad.
Good. If you give me her number and sign a release, I can update her as to what has happened. You are going to need to address tonight’s events.
No kidding. Tonight’s events. Last week’s. Last month’s. Last year’s. Sheesh. I could foresee paying for Gwen’s future mansion with the therapy bills. But she was the best. And it would absolutely be worth the price if she could help me pull myself back together. Because, while I had been trying to put up a good front in front of Bruno and Igor, I was faking it big-time.
At the same time, I was worried. Gwen had once told me that if anything happened to my protections, she wouldn’t be able to reestablish them—doing so might destroy all my memories.
I signed the appropriate paperwork, took the proffered prescription, and we were on our way.
Creede was waiting at the car. Like Bruno, he didn’t say a word. But it wasn’t the first time he’d seen me throw myself into danger right after a demon encounter. He just shook his head and got into the front passenger seat while Bruno got in next to me in the back.
Even early as it was, there was an electric excitement in the air. It was as if the whole country was a small child and it was finally,
finally
Christmas morning. Today was the wedding day.
The limo drove through the streets leading to the castle in the thin, watery light of dawn. I watched through the window as the vendors bustled and tourists stumbled sleepily up to the police barriers, clutching steaming mugs or Styrofoam cups as they shivered slightly in the early-morning chill. Later in the day it was supposed to be sunny and in the seventies, but at the moment it was quite cool.
Had it really only been days since I’d made a similar pre-wedding drive through the streets of Serenity? It felt like years. Bad, dark years filled with pain.
Enough with the depressing thoughts,
I admonished myself.
It’s Adriana’s wedding day.
I wished I could be as excited about it as the bystanders I saw outside the car windows. I just wasn’t. I tried giving myself a little internal pep talk, but the results were less than stellar.
Just get through the day. You can do this.
We reached the compound at 6:30. I sped to my rooms to relieve myself, have a quick shower, and retrieve my weapons and jewelry before heading down to the dressing room. At my request, the servants agreed to bring my breakfast there.
We were getting dressed in a different small room, not the one used for the fittings the previous day. I was glad. I don’t exactly believe in bad luck, but I wouldn’t have wanted to start this day in that room.
As before, the dresses were hung on racks, with the bridesmaids’ dresses shoved down to one end and Adriana’s wedding gown taking the rest of the space. I’d gotten only a peek at it before I was teleported away; now I took a closer look.
It was gorgeous, a simple, elegant design in ivory silk with embroidery and pearl beads and a long train trimmed in lace. I knew she would look absolutely stunning in it.
On the east wall were the hair and makeup areas. Neither were manned at the moment, but all the equipment was laid out at the ready. On another wall, a television played. The British announcers were filling the time before the actual event translating local background stories about everything from the designers of Adriana’s dress and veil to Rusland’s wedding traditions. A clock in one bottom corner of the screen showed a countdown until the wedding.
When she saw me at the door, Adriana ran to greet me with a glad cry and a huge hug. She was wearing a full-length housecoat, her hair loose and uncombed. Even so, she was gorgeous. She was radiant with joy and quivering with nerves. Her embrace was gentle and warm, and I could feel her delight as she released me.
Natasha hugged me next. She was a little shy and awkward about it, but that just made it feel more sincere.
“You are all right?” Natasha asked as I followed her over to the corner to examine my dress.
“My ears still hurt,” I admitted. I was having some problems with my balance as well. It wasn’t anything too serious, a touch of vertigo. Dr. Shablinski had said both problems would probably fade in a few days. The ear damage had been extensive enough that a regular human would have been permanently deaf. Of course, I didn’t go into that with Natasha. “Other than that, I’m okay.”
“You were fortunate.” She shuddered visibly. “A
demon
. You are very fortunate.”
“You got that right.”
“Celia!”
I whirled at the sound of Gilda’s joyous shout. “You’re all right? I wanted so badly to warn you, but I could not move or speak. What a hideous, terrible spell.” Gilda burst into the room like a little tornado, with Isaac following in her wake. The two of them swept me into yet another hug. Apparently this was the day for it. While I’m not normally all that huggy, today it felt good, reassuring.
Gilda drew me away from the others, leading me behind the screens that had been set up to give us a private dressing area, and whispered, “Are you truly all right? You look … strained.”
“It was rough, but I’ll be okay.”
She pursed her lips, giving me a narrow-eyed look of pure skepticism. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
As she was helping me out of my shirt, she whispered near my ear, “We haven’t told your grandmother about what happened, darling. It wouldn’t help her heal. But she’s doing much better. She plans to watch you on television, so we’ll make you look extra special.” I thanked her for visiting my gran and wondered what the three of them—I assumed Isaac had gone, too; the Levys were rarely parted—had talked about.
It took a few minutes to slip out of my clothes. I was sort of sore. Sue me. Then I donned my best frilly underthings and armed myself. Next came the dress and jacket. I smoothed my hands along the fabric of the dress as I stepped out from behind the screen to give Isaac and Gilda a chance to examine their work.
The two of them circled me like sharks, examining me from every angle for long moments before finally expressing their satisfaction. I was happy with the result. The dress and jacket fit like a dream, and, thanks to Isaac’s magic, I could be well armed without looking like it. I had all my usual gear and then some—Isaac had tucked things I wasn’t sure even how to use into hidden pockets, murmuring, “If all else fails, throw them.”
Released, I sat on the edge of a chair and pulled on my thigh-high hose. Gone were the days when my legs would tan enough for me not to need stockings. These were black silk and as sheer as cobwebs. They perfectly matched my brand-new black lace bra and panties, so I felt very sexy pulling them on. I didn’t put on the shoes yet. The heels were high and because of the ear injury I figured I wouldn’t be entirely steady on them. I’d have switched shoes, but there was no time to rehem the dress. So I just said a quick prayer that I wouldn’t fall on my ass and make a fool of myself in front of the entire world.
Now that I was dressed, it was time to accessorize. I opened the jewel case sitting on the table beside me. Diamonds and amethysts sparkled in the bright overhead lights. I felt tears welling in my eyes as I looked at them. Isaac and Gilda were wonderful, wonderful friends. I loved them. But at this moment, I wished very much that I had family here. I missed my gran so much; missed Ivy’s ghost. I wanted to hear Gran say I looked pretty, have Ivy draw a heart in ice crystals on the mirror like she used to. I slipped on the earrings, controlling my expression, trying hard not to show anyone what I was feeling.
As if in response to my wish the temperature in the room dropped like a stone. The lights flickered overhead as Gilda fastened the necklace around my neck.
“Ivy?” I whispered. The lights flashed once in response. Our old code had been once for yes, twice for no. “I’m so glad you’re here.” I felt myself smiling. “I’ve missed you.”
As I watched, ice crystals formed on the full-length mirror in front of me, taking the shape of a heart.
Is that my cousin Ivy?
Adriana came over to stand beside me, her voice perfectly clear inside my mind.