Blade Bound (Chicagoland Vampires 13)
“I was just thinking the same thing,” I said. “I’ll be glad when tomorrow is done.”
He arched a single golden eyebrow, his signature move. “You’re already ready for our wedding to be over?”
“More that I’m ready for our lives to begin, and to be done with wedding planning. And,” I admitted, “to see what Mallory and Lindsey have in store.”
“You’ll be good tonight.” As if sealing the obligation, Ethan lifted my chin with a finger, then lowered his lips to mine. The kiss was soft, teasing. A hint of things to come. A promise and a dare.
“As good-bye kisses go,” I said when I could form words again, “that wasn’t bad.”
“I’m saving some of my energy for tomorrow, of course.” His eyes went flat. “You know they want us to sleep separately.”
Vampires weren’t usually superstitious, but they did like their rules. One of those, we’d been advised, was the bride and groom sleeping in different rooms so they wouldn’t see each other, even inadvertently, on their wedding night.
“I saw Helen’s memo.” Another reason she wasn’t on my favorites list. “She wants to put me in my old room.”
Ethan smiled. “That hardly seems fair, since I’ll have our suite to myself.”
“You’re the Master,” I said in Helen’s clipped tone.
“That is a disturbingly good impression.”
“I know. I’ve heard it a lot the last few weeks.” The clock on the opposite wall began to peal its midnight chimes. “I should get dressed. Lindsey has specified our outfits.”
His gaze narrowed. “Has she?”
I patted his chest. “She has, and mine will be completely bachelorette-party appropriate.”
“That’s what concerns me. You’ll be careful?”
“I will, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. Not now.”
The union of sorcerers, finally realizing that Sorcha’s destruction had been partly their fault, had set wards around the city. We couldn’t stop her from walking into the city—that was the CPD’s job—but if she attempted to use magic within that barrier, we’d know it.
And for four months, there’d been nothing from Sorcha. And other than a run-in with some unethical ghost hunters and a murderous ghost a couple of months ago, Chicago had settled into a beautiful and golden summer.
It was weird. And wonderful.
“You’ll be good,” Ethan said, nipping at my ear. “Or I’ll be bad.”
I’m pretty sure that was a win-win.
CHAPTER TWO
THE GOOD WORD
“Well,” I said, staring at the white stretch limo that sat at the curb, “at least you didn’t get the one with the hot tub.”
“Only ’cause it was booked,” Lindsey said. She’d worked soft waves into her hair and squeezed into a short black bandage dress that looked absolutely phenomenal. She glanced at me, gestured with a finger in the air. “This was a good call.”