Blade Bound (Chicagoland Vampires 13)

“Meaning there is no guarantee,” Ethan said.

Gabriel pushed a hand through his hair, his frustration obvious. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to talk about this here. It’s not the time or the place.”

“If there’s danger out there, it’s exactly the time and place.”

Gabriel grunted, an acknowledgment of Ethan’s protectiveness.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“Don’t live in fear,” Gabriel said. “Just live. Keep your people close; keep your eyes open. That’s all any of us can do.”

A few feet away, Tanya turned back, beckoned Gabriel to her. His attention shifted, narrowed on his wife, like a man too accustomed to the possibilities of danger and loss.

He pressed a hard kiss to my forehead. “Be careful, Kitten,” he said, then strode to his wife.

Ethan and I stood quietly together for a moment.

“I told him not to call you Kitten,” he muttered, probably just to make me smile. Which worked.

“Yeah, well, we can’t always get what we want.”

The words were out before I’d thought about them, and I reached out, squeezed Ethan’s hand, made myself lean into the uncertainty.

“I don’t want him to be right. I don’t want Mallory to be right. I want the world to spin like it has for these last few months, when my toughest decision was picking out a bridesmaid dress for Charlotte.”

“And perhaps dealing with the ghost.”

“And the ghost,” I said with a nod as our friendly neighborhood necromancer, Annabelle, swirled on the dance floor with her husband, looking radiant in her signature pale pink.

Ethan put an arm around my waist, pressed his lips to my temple. “We take each night as it comes, just as we have before. That is all we can do, and the best we can do.”

I nodded, let myself have a moment to lean against him, be still beside him, at least until my stomach grumbled.

“Let’s also take in some food.”

I would not argue with that.

• • •

By the time the early hours of the new day approached, just as Mallory had predicted, my face hurt from smiling, I’d ditched my shoes, and curls were slipping loose from the updo Lindsey had worked so carefully to achieve.

Supernaturals, used to the late hour, still danced to the band, which had been playing for hours. A few hearty humans danced, but the rest sat droopy-eyed at tables, yawning as they waited for an opportunity to leave.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Lindsey said from the stage, microphone in hand. The crowd quieted. “We’ve reached the end of our evening—literally, because the sun will be up in a few hours, and we still have to get Ethan and Merit to their very special bridal suite.”

The crowd hooted.

“But before we go, it’s time for one last tradition. Merit, if you’ll join me onstage, it’s time for you to throw the bouquet!”

Good luck, Sentinel.

I glanced back at Ethan, who winked rakishly. This was the last moment of our wedding, and therefore the last moment before our wedding night began. Uncertain future or not, there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes.

I stepped onto the stage, accepted the bouquet Lindsey offered me. And a good thing, too, as I’d lost track of it hours ago.

A number of women and a handful of men gathered in front of the stage, laughing as they prepared for the ritual. “Everyone ready?”

The screams were high-pitched and energetic. I glanced at Lindsey. “You want to get down there, too?”