Blue-Blooded Vamp Page 70



Michael let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Sabina.”


I nodded and held his gaze. Michael knew I still didn’t approve of his actions where Mac was concerned, but it wasn’t really my business. Even as the leader of the cabinet, I tried to keep my opinions to myself unless an issue arose that affected more than one race. I wasn’t a dictator, but more of a mediator. I’d learned my lesson the hard way about trying to control people.


I cleared my throat. “Anyone else have anything to report?”


The aisle seemed so long. Longer than it should, considering the happiness of the occasion. I’d never given much thought to weddings. In fact, I’d never so much as been invited to one. But now here I was, in one.


Giguhl’s green-scaled arm was linked through mine as we made the journey together. I looked over at him and found his gaze riveted to the altar, where Zen, Rhea, Brooks, and Adam already stood. I looked at the mancy and smiled. He winked back, looking both relaxed and downright sexy in his formal black chiton.


On either side of the aisles formed by the parted crowd of spectators, I spied dozens of familiar faces. Georgia and Slade on Giguhl’s side of the congregation. I was so glad to see Georgia smiling. After we’d returned, she had still been in a funk about Mac and had never warmed up to owning Lagniappe. But when I’d recommended Georgia to Nyx as an advisor, Brooks had stepped up with an offer to purchase the bar from the vampire. The situation worked out brilliantly for all concerned, since Brooks was a far better bar owner than performer and his drag queen employees worshipped him.


Speaking of Brooks, he’d also done an amazing job of pulling together the demon wedding of the millennium. After some initial bitchiness, Brooks and Valva got along famously once they’d discovered their shared love for all things gaudy. After that, the Vanity bride and the Changeling had worked together like two fabulous generals staging a rhinestone-studded battle against singledom.


The courtyard of the house Adam and I owned in the Garden District had been transformed into a sort of faery autumn garden. Tiny white lights crisscrossed overhead, creating the illusion of stars or faery dust. Valva had tried to explain the theme they were going for, but I hadn’t really paid attention. Anyway, there were flowers everywhere and they’d thrown jewel-toned ribbon all over everything without a pulse. The effect was totally not my taste, but then, it also wasn’t my wedding.


Giguhl and I finally reached the front of the altar, where Rhea and Zen stood side by side to officiate the ceremony. Brooks and Adam waited for us at the altar, since they were the other best men. While Adam wore a chiton, Brooks had opted for a tuxedo with a bow tie and cummerbund in Vegasy gold lamé. I took my place between them and turned back toward the audience.


Giguhl fidgeted at the head of the aisle, waiting for Rhea to give the signal. Soon, the fae musicians to the side of altar started playing a fae wedding march. The entire crowd turned in time to see Valva appear at the back of the clearing.


She looked spectacular in her magenta wedding gown, especially with the plume of peacock feathers unfurled behind her like a train. Since Asmodeus and Lilith couldn’t be here for the ceremony—there’d be another one in Irkalla later—Maisie walked her former minion down the aisle.


Watching the pair approach—Valva on six-inch gold Louboutins and Maisie floating—my eyes began to sting. If someone had told me ten months earlier that one night my ghost sister and I would be watching our minions get married, I’d have punched them in the face and told them to seek professional help. But now there was a certain poetry to this event. Everything felt like it had come full circle.


Maisie and Valva finally reached us. Rhea and Zen stepped forward. “Who gives this female to join in the sacred bond of soul mating with the demon Giguhl?” asked Rhea.


“I, Maisie Graecus, High Priestess of the Chaste Moon and Chosen of the Underworld Dark Races, do.”


“And who gives this male to join in the sacred bond of soul mating to the demon Valva?” asked Zen.


I’d been so busy smiling at my sister that Brooks had to nudge me with his elbow. I stood straighter and stepped forward. “I, Sabina Kane, High Priestess of the Blood Moon and Chosen of the Mortal Realm Dark Races, do.”


Zen and Rhea nodded at us to take our places next to our demons. Giguhl and Valva stood shoulder to shoulder and hand in claw. The ceremony was short but sweet. And at the end, after Giguhl slid the ring onto his demon bride’s finger and they were pronounced demon and wife, Valva launched herself at her husband and proceeded to kiss the snot out of him.


When they were finally finished, a moment of shocked silence followed before the courtyard erupted into cheers.


Adam caught my hand and winked. I shot him a rueful smile. We hadn’t gotten around to making our own union official. I still wore the ring he gave me that night in Tuscany and now he wore a matching one I’d had made. I guess we just felt like we didn’t need other people to confirm the vows we’d already made to each other. Our souls were already joined. The fires of Irkalla had fused them in a way no wedding ever could.


Still, he liked to tease me about making me an honest woman and often referred to himself at the “kept man of a goddess.”


The faery band burst into song to accompany the happy couple’s procession from the altar. Giguhl jumped forward, threw up his claws, and yelled, “Let’s party!”


The reception was held on the lawn beside the house. We were lucky enough to snag a double lot with lots of high walls and privacy. It had cost us a mint, but we loved living in New Orleans and the ease with which we could travel to any of the dark race capitals as needed.


Thousands of tiny white lights hung in the trees and candles floated in the pool. Colorful tents dotted the lawn and offered a variety of dishes favored by all the dark races. To cap it all off, a large stage had been erected for the band.


Speaking of the band, they’d just taken the stage and were warming up when Adam sauntered up to me bearing two flutes of champagne. He clinked his glass to mine and turned toward the stage. “I feel like our little demon is all grown up now.”


I took a sip and enjoyed the cold bubbling sensation as it slid down my throat. “Don’t worry. In no time he’ll be back to running up our credit cards and trashing the house when we’re out of town.”


“Speaking of trashing houses, I’m glad Erron and Ziggy worked things out.”


Erron and his new all-mage band were supplying the entertainment for the reception. Once the Recreant returned to the States, he’d made amends with Ziggy and they went about transforming Necrospank 5000 into a new, more mage-centric incarnation.


“But the new name has got to go,” Adam continued.


“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I think The Foreskins has a certain charm to it.”


At that moment, Erron Zorn strutted onstage. The small wedding party applauded politely. After a months’ long hiatus from music, tonight would mark Erron’s first public performance with his new band. He waved to his fans and pulled his guitar strap over his head. Behind him, Ziggy tapped a rhythmic beat on the drums.


“This first song goes out to the happy couple. Can we get Giguhl and Valva on the floor for their first dance as demon and wife?”


Giguhl looked so proud and happy as he led his bride onto the floor. Valva strutted ahead of him, flicking her peacock tail. Watching them, Adam put his arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him and let out a contented sigh.


I’m not sure why I expected two demons to dance to a traditionally romantic song. However, after my initial shock at their choice, I realized the acoustic version of “Super Freak” fit Giguhl and Valva better than any cheesy ballad.


“Sabina!” a female voice called.


I turned to see Georgia and the female vampire I noticed earlier at the wedding approaching. I moved forward and gave Georgia a hug.


We pulled away and Georgia turned to the female. Unlike Georgia, who was tall and had the figure of a cover model, this chick was shorter and had a short, spiky haircut. Judging from the bright red color, she was probably about a century old. “Adam, Sabina, this is Shane Bettencourt.”


“Chosen, it is an honor.” Shane started to kneel and touch her hand to her forehead, but I stopped her.


“Please don’t. You can just call me Sabina.” I stuck my hand out. She hesitated and glanced at Georgia, who nodded. Finally, Shane took my hand and gave it a couple of hearty shakes.


“So how do you two know each other?” Adam asked after he greeted the vampire, too.


“Shane owns a bar in Los Angeles that I go to a lot.”


I glanced at Georgia. Her eyes skittered away. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was insecure about her new relationship or because of the obvious similarities between Shane and Georgia’s ex, Mac. Sure, Mac was a werewolf, but she had the same masculine energy and had been a bar owner to boot.


“Oh yeah?” I said to Shane. “What’s it called? I used to live in L.A. Maybe I’ve been there.”


“I kind of doubt that,” she said, glancing toward Adam. “It’s called The Pearl Diver.”


I bit my lip. “Really?”


Shane nodded. “You should come next time you’re in the city.”


“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” Adam said, earning a nudge from me.


Georgia cleared her throat. “So, Sabina, when are you finally going to make an honest man out of Adam?”


I shrugged. “We like living in sin.”


“Amen,” Shane said. She flashed Georgia a wink.


“Anyway,” Adam said, “I don’t think anything we’d come up with could compete with that.” He nodded toward the dance floor.


The Foreskins had picked up the beat and now the dance floor was crowded. In addition to Giguhl and Valva, who’d switched to some pretty impressive disco moves, Queen Maeve, Nyx, Slade, Brooks, Zen, and a dozen other powerful vampires, mages, weres, and fae danced their asses off. Even Maisie’s spirit swirled and dipped among the corporeal partiers.

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