The dress appeared first, full, but with the odd effect of making Suzanne look taller. Or maybe it was pure bliss doing that, because she beamed as brightly as the winter sun, beginning that fateful walk down the center aisle, acknowledging the oohs and ahhs with a slight inclination of her head. She was beautiful for a woman of any age, but the years had somehow come together on this day to make her more solid somehow. She moved like a gift, wrapped in all that jewel-encrusted gold. It was probably just the reflection off the walkway, but her glowing skin was bested only by her eyes, dewy with emotion.
Arun, in turn, was thunderstruck. She reached his side, unable to look away from him as well, blindly offering me her bouquet before holding her hands out to him. He took them almost by rote, staring into her face like he was trying to adjust his eyes to some new phosphorescent light.
Oh yeah, this guy was totally going down.
I’d have found that more amusing if I wasn’t preoccu pied with stopping the wedding, Warren’s hard attention, the Tulpa’s paranoid edginess, and the small task of staying alive.
With all those concerns buzzing around my head, I barely listened as the western priest began to speak, the words unexceptional despite the bridal pair’s status, the guest list, and the opulent setting. Even the eastern priest’s melodious Hindi rang familiar. In the end, a wedding was a wedding. But at this one I kept my attention divided; half on a gently swaying Arun, half on the violent stare-down between Warren and the Tulpa.
Glancing back at the American priest, I tried to mentally nudge things along, but like Judge Ito, he was milking his moment for all it was worth. He was also beginning to sweat despite the coolness of the day, his eyes shut as if his words about love being the foundation of a marriage were a heartfelt prayer.
And his weren’t the only eyes shut. The Tulpa had willfully broken the staring contest, and now he faced forward, a look of intent concentration petrifying his features. Well, why not? I thought, swallowing hard. His archenemy wasn’t going to make a move with all these people about. Yet something about this panicked Warren, and his restless gaze darted between the Tulpa and me.
Then a muffled argument broke out at the back door. That confirmed it; the Tulpa was using his mental energy to call for backup. Fortunately, due to my preemptive security measures, the Shadows couldn’t enter the room in the middle of the ceremony without an invitation, and-most importantly-without making a scene. Thus, at a particularly loud shout, the Tulpa’s brows furrowed and he cracked an eye in the direction of the door. Suzanne, and most of the guests in the back row, glanced over as well.
Poor Suzanne.
However, the American priest only grew louder, speaking passionately about this most sacred personal union. Arun still stood starstruck next to his bride. That pulled her attention back to the ceremony, but the continued banging and shouts unnerving the crowd were working their way across the pool deck. Even the water below us seemed choppier, and though the Tulpa had to notice, he was the only truly still form alongside this sudden makeshift sea.
Well, I thought, breath catching. Not quite the only one.
The head was a black, unmoving abyss in the restless crowd, though the depth of that darkness lessened when Mackie lifted his empty gaze and threw off his stillness. He’d been slumped, lost in the crowd of hundreds, which was why I hadn’t made him out before. Yet he straightened now, deeming whatever was happening outside those doors as his cue to move. He rose, knocking into the guests hemming him in, and edged his way to the center aisle.
I gasped, holding back a scream only because Suzanne stiffened and I needed time to inch my hands down to weapons at thigh and back. If I brought attention to my defenses before I could get to them-never mind draw them-Mackie’s knife would open my aorta before you could say “Kiss the bride.” Besides, was it too much to hope the Tulpa would wake the fuck up and intercept?
A giant pause in the priest’s diatribe caught my attention, and I angled my eyes over to find him staring mutely as Mackie drew closer. Suzanne whimpered, distressed by the minister’s loss in concentration, and I slowly tucked my hand in the hidden hem of my sari.
Where was Carlos? I wondered, heart pounding. Where were the grays? And why wasn’t anyone in the audience screaming at the sight of a walking skeleton?
Because they can’t see his face, I realized, gaze shifting again to his. Sure, they passed along quizzical looks after he’d passed, but he was walking so stiffly it was almost like he was a part of the ceremony-which was probably how he saw it. He only inched closer, drawing the moments out, a familiar low whine starting to whirr in his throat as he reached one bony hand beneath his dusty bowler hat. I found the trident at my back.
But why wasn’t the Light moving against him? I wondered, sliding my bouquet hand down my leg. I risked taking my eyes off Mackie long enough to locate Warren, and found him leaning against the pillar again, face hard, eyes shuttered.
Damn him, he was going to let this happen!
The noise from inside the hotel increased, and a sharp bang made everyone, save Mackie, jump. That was when the Tulpa finally opened his eyes. His brows furrowed as he found me, no doubt unnaturally white and wideeyed, and he finally turned to stare Mackie fully in the face.
There was no other way to describe what Mackie did next. Still believing the Tulpa was my protector, his head snapped so far forward it was as if he possessed an extra row of vertebrae. His beef jerky skin stretched over his neck and he hissed.
The guests around him gasped. The Tulpa stood, rising like a plank, free of his chair, and more horrified gasps sounded as the two faced each other across half an Olympic-sized pool.
Warren remained where he was, content to let the Tulpa and Mackie take one another out.
Suzanne’s restless movement let me know it was time. I pulled out my gun as she turned toward the ruckus. Poor Suzanne, I thought, aiming at Mackie. She just wasn’t meant to have the wedding of her dreams.
Someone screamed. Mackie tested the Tulpa, whose eyes were still locked on him, by taking another step toward me. The Tulpa responded by baring a mouth full of fangs, which only made Mackie yank out his soul blade, eliciting real screams.
Suzanne growled in frustration and yanked at her voluminous gold skirts.
“That’s it!” To my utter surprise she reached behind her, pulled a sawed-off shotgun from a Velcro holster hidden somehow at her back, and aimed the barrel down the aisle. “You guys are fucking up my wedding!”
And she shot Mackie straight through the chest.
The crowd exploded into action, everyone running for the single set of doors like rats escaping a maze. Everyone, that was, but those who knew what was going on. Or, I thought, ears and mind buzzing, those suddenly finding out. I blinked as guests fell into the pool, swimming toward the other side to avoid the corpse now sprawled on the center aisle. I saw Warren straighten from the corner of my eye, but my gaze winged back to the Tulpa as the screams escalated.
“Hello, boys.” Suzanne reached behind her without looking, and again I was surprised when she pulled out the saber I’d planted, the one I thought no one knew about. I replaced my gun at the small of my back as she handed me the shotgun, though kept my eyes on her. Everyone did. A smile like flint glittered on her goldpainted face. “Miss me?”
Warren and the Tulpa both froze, and their shocked expressions spoke volumes.