Baker’s voice drifted through the door and the soft, feather down pillow. “Celia, Isaac and Gilda Levy are here with the dresses for the fitting. Princess Adriana has asked that you join everyone downstairs at your earliest convenience.”
Oh, hell. Early wasn’t convenient. Not at all. Damn it, anyway. I needed some rest. I was tired and depressed. The last thing I wanted was to be around people. And Gilda and Isaac were so damned perceptive, they’d know something was up the minute I walked into the room.
Still, there was nothing for it. They were here. There wasn’t much time for them to do any alterations as it was. It would be rude of me to make that time any shorter.
“Tell them I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“I’ll tell them ten minutes.”
“And get me some coffee,” I added. “Please. Lots and lots of coffee.”
I could almost hear Helen smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
I took one of the shortest showers on record, brushed my teeth and hair, and pulled on jeans and a little yellow T-shirt with horizontal stripes. I strapped on every weapon I’d be wearing at the weddings, from my knives on down to the Glock and ankle holster. Isaac was going to want to make sure the dress and jacket fit properly over my armament. He’d probably also renew the accuracy spells on my gear, which was never a bad thing. I practice at the range regularly and am a good shot even without the spells. But when it really matters, I want every possible edge.
When I opened the door to my suite, a scant seven minutes after my summons, Baker was waiting outside. She offered me a huge mug of coffee that smelled like everything good in the world. Taking the mug, I inhaled deeply, then took a sip, careful not to burn the roof of my mouth. It tasted fabulous. I wondered what blend it was and if I’d be able to find it back home.
Raised voices greeted my ears from downstairs. Oh, I so didn’t need to get in the middle of an argument this early. Instead, I blew on the steaming liquid in the mug and decided to take my time going down. Baker didn’t seem any more excited to get involved than me. Adriana’s voice, crisp and commanding, cut through the quarreling voices downstairs, saying in crisp, cold, English. “That is enough!”
I turned to Baker. “She really wants me down there, huh? You sure?”
She nodded vigorously.
“Peachy.”
I stepped past her and made my way down to the living room, where Adriana, Olga, and Natasha were gathered together with Gilda and Isaac Levy.
“Oh, Celia. I’m so glad you’re here.” Gilda beamed up at me. “Come with me. We need you to try on your dress and jacket so we can make any last-minute adjustments.” Zipping across the room, she retrieved a garment bag from where it was draped over the bar.
I doubted there’d be any alterations. After all, they’d just seen me a few days ago. Granted, it had been a rough few days, but I doubted I’d lost enough weight to change my measurements.
Isaac gave a short wave in greeting from where he was kneeling on the floor, pinning the hem of Natasha’s gown. She was standing on a raised stool, her expression one of martyred patience.
“Natasha, glad to see you’re feeling better.” I tried to make it sound like she’d had the flu, rather than being an instrument of near-assassination.
She turned to look at me, over Isaac’s muttered protest, and her expression lightened. “Princess, I’ve been wanting to thank you. I am told you were the one who saved my life.”
I admitted it with a shrug but added, “Not the only one. King Dahlmar’s friend…” I had gone blank on his name.
“Igor,” Adriana supplied.
“That’s him. Igor. He did CPR, too. Are you feeling better? What do the doctors say?”
“They say I will be fine. The only lasting effect is the lost memories.” Her face clouded with worry. “I do not like not remembering.”
I could understand that. I’d had a spell worked on me that affected my memory. It nearly drove me nuts before I was finally able to get it lifted.
She shook her head and smiled. “But Princess Adriana has been most kind. She has forgiven me, in spite of what I have done, and is still willing to have me beside her in her wedding.”
I glanced over at Adriana, who was smiling. That she wasn’t holding a grudge was pretty damned generous of her, all things considered—and not at all like the Adriana I’d first met. Being with Dahlmar had mellowed her. She was definitely less prickly than she’d once been. Love will do that to you.
Gilda shooed me toward the hallway that led to the nearest bathroom. “You have to try on the dress with the shoes and jewelry. I’m especially worried about the shoes. This brand seems to run narrow.”
She followed me into the good-sized bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind us before giving me a quick update on what I’d missed.
“The bridesmaids are arguing. The younger one…”
“Olga,” I said, and Gilda nodded.
“Olga is very angry and frightened. So many things have gone wrong. Nothing is going according to plan. She was counting on Natasha’s fear of her father to keep her in line, keep her agreeing to whatever Olga suggested. But that’s changed now that Natasha is no longer under the influence of the spell. The two of them have been arguing and sniping at each other. Olga insists that Princess Adriana is using her siren abilities to control King Dahlmar. Natasha disagrees.”
“Natasha’s right,” I said firmly as I slipped out of my shoes and unzipped the jeans.
“You’re sure?” She hooked the hanger with my dress over the hook on the back of the door, flipped the lid down on the toilet, and took a seat.
“Positive,” I assured her. “First off, Adriana is way older than she looks and way, way older than Dahlmar. Sirens live a long time, and she’s told me directly that she considers Dahlmar a younger man. She couldn’t have manipulated him using siren abilities because she doesn’t really have any, at least not to the level where she could control somebody as strong-willed as the king. Besides which, I made sure he had an anti-siren charm that would prevent her from doing any hanky-panky.”
“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t stop that.” Gilda gave me a saucy wink. “Adriana is a beautiful woman who is accustomed to getting her own way. There are many ways to manipulate someone; you don’t need to have psychic powers. And from what I’ve seen, most women’s normal abilities are usually enough to influence most men. Now we’ll just have to find a way to find a way to work that into the conversation. Because I am not letting those two little bitches ruin that girl’s big day.”
“I thought you said she’s a manipulator.”
She turned wide, innocent eyes to me. “Well, of course. But the manipulation she’s doing is only the time-honored sort that all women do. I respect that.”
I nearly laughed out loud, but managed to smother the burst of noise with both hands so that it came out in a muffled snort. Gilda was right, of course. We needed to intervene. But I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how we were going to manage that. Still, I was game. The new Adriana was growing on me. Besides, to my mind, every bride deserves a terrific wedding day.
I stripped down to my underwear. Gilda looked me up and down. “You’ve lost weight again,” she scolded. “You need to eat more. And that”—she pointed to the scar in the middle of my chest—“is a new scar. I thought you promised me you’d be careful.”
“I am careful,” I protested. She was right about the scar, though. It wasn’t huge, but it was noticeable. But I’d been damned lucky not to be hurt worse when Jan had done his thing.
I wished fervently that the feds would catch him. So far though, they’d had no luck. Damn it, he was apparently as good at hiding as he was at magic.