Dead Perfect

It was a good thing they were getting married soon, she thought, her eyelids fluttering down, because she didn’t think she could bear this kind of blissful torture much longer.

Planning for the wedding turned out to be one of the most enjoyable things Shannah had ever done. Ronan told her to spend whatever she wished, to buy whatever she wanted or needed, and she took him at his word.

She bought a white silk wedding gown fit for a princess. It had a fitted bodice studded with crystal beads, a full skirt, a long train, and a matching veil. She bought new shoes, all new underwear, and a white nightgown that was so light and frothy it felt like she was wearing nothing at all. And looked that way, too.

She let her mother take care of ordering the cake and the flowers and arranging for the reception after the ceremony.

Shannah addressed the invitations late one night. Not that there were that many. Counting her friends and family and friends of her parents, the total was right around fifty.

“What about your friends in Las Vegas?” she asked as she addressed the last one. “Wouldn’t you like to invite them?”

Ronan shook his head. “Might be tempting fate, don’t you think, so many vampires, all in one place?”

Shannah grinned at him. “Maybe you’re right.”

“We could go there for our honeymoon, if you like.”

“I’d rather go some place more romantic, like Paris or Italy.” She looked thoughtful. “I suppose you’ve been to those places already, and lots of others besides.”

“Yes, love, but not with you.” Moving toward her, he kissed her cheek. “Seeing them with you will be like seeing them for the first time.”

“You always say the sweetest things.” Putting her pen down, she rose and went into his arms.

He looked at her, his dark eyes hot. “I’m not sure I can wait for our wedding night, love.”

“Me, either.”

He sat on the sofa, drawing her down into his lap. His tongue laved her neck, just behind her ear. The touch sent a jolt of electricity racing through her.

“What about all that talk about chivalry and being a product of your generation?” she asked, her voice breathless as he pressed his lips to her breast. The heat of his mouth penetrated through her sweater, warming her skin.

“Maybe it’s time to put my old-fashioned ways behind me,” he said with a low growl, and claimed her lips again.

She couldn’t think, not when he was kissing her with such intensity. His mouth was hot and hungry on hers, stealing her breath so that she could scarcely breathe. She clung to him, her hands kneading his back and shoulders, her whole body trembling and aching for his touch.

“Shannah.” His voice was a groan, a plea.

“Maybe we should elope,” she said, her voice as desperate as his. “Now, tonight.”

He laughed hoarsely, then lifted her off his lap. “We’ve waited this long. Besides, I want that white dress to mean something when you wear it down the aisle.”

In the days before the wedding, Ronan continued to help Shannah adjust to her new lifestyle.

All the things she had anticipated with dread proved to be unfounded. Drinking blood wasn’t disgusting but pleasurable, not only for her, but for those she took it from. She reveled in her new powers, both mental and physical. Every emotion, every sense, was heightened. She saw and heard things more clearly, felt things more deeply. She learned to tune out the barrage of noise that assaulted her on every side.

She threw herself into a fit of redecorating until Ronan declared he didn’t recognize the house anymore. He was generous to a fault, never complaining no matter how much money she spent. It was such fun to shop without worrying about the cost, to buy whatever caught her fancy.

With her increased energy, it took her no time at all to repaint every room in the house.

Ronan watched, amused, as his bride-to-be transformed his dreary house into a home. Her taste ran to bright colors—a cheerful yellow for the kitchen that they no longer had any use for, pastel colors for the guestrooms, a deep blue for the bedroom that had been hers. She had decided this would be the room where they kept their clothing. She bought a new bedroom set because, as she said, while she didn’t mind sleeping in his lair down in the basement, she wanted this to be the room they used to change clothes and do the other things people usually did in the privacy of their bedroom.

“Like making love?” he had queried.

She had nodded, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink.

She bought new carpeting and new furniture for every room in the house, including his lair.

The one thing she was adamant about was sleeping in a casket. She simply refused to consider it.

“I don’t care if every vampire ever made slept in one,” she declared vehemently. “I won’t, and that’s all there is to it.”

She bought an antique four-poster bed, flowered sheets, and a wine-red comforter and carried it all down into his lair, advising him that he could sleep in his casket if he pleased, but she was sleeping in a bed.

To please her, and because he had no intention of sleeping alone once they were married, he got rid of the coffin that had been his resting place for the last few centuries.

Three days before the wedding, they flew to New York. Ronan had made reservations at the Waldorf and rented a new Cadillac, since they couldn’t just materialize in her parents’ living room. Shannah’s parents had invited them to stay at the house, but Shannah had politely refused, explaining that Ronan had business in the city and that it would be more convenient for them to stay in a hotel.

It grieved Shannah to lie to her parents but there was no other choice.

She was nervous the night they went to visit her parents for the first time since her transformation. What if they noticed the difference in her? She didn’t think she would be able to bear it if they turned away from her in horror.

“Relax,” Ronan said as they pulled up in front of her parents’ house. “It will be all right.”

Shannah took a deep breath. “I hope so, but…”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “No buts, love. Trust me.”

As it turned out, Ronan was right, as usual, and all her worrying was for nothing. Her parents were delighted to see her, naturally overjoyed that the doctors had been wrong in their diagnosis.

“You look wonderful, dear,” Verna said. “No one would ever know you’d been sick a day in your life.”

“You’re going to make a beautiful bride,” Mr. Davis said as he embraced his daughter.