Tales of the Otherworld (34 page)

“They’ll take coffee,” Savannah said as she came back in. “And muffins.”

“You’re becoming quite the little hostess,” Maria said as Savannah set about preparing the tray.

“I feel like I’m stuck in a Jane Austen novel,” Savannah grumbled.

“The lowly ward,” I said. “Consigned to servitude. When you’re done with that, you can report to Maria for your next orders. We’ll be showing Benicio the house.”

“And this bedroom we turned into an office,” I said, walking from the master bedroom into the adjoining area. “It’s too small for a second desk, so we’re thinking of finishing the basement for a large office, making this room a sitting area or library.”

“There’s only the three bedrooms?” Benicio said.

“Yes, Papá.” Lucas kept his voice soft but words emphatic. “We don’t need any more. Not for quite some time.”

Benicio smiled. “So you think now, but things may change once you’re married.” He stepped into the hall. “I noticed a lovely new subdivision going up just outside the city. It has estate-sized lots, and the builder assured me their zoning would allow a second, smaller residence on the property for hired help.” He lifted his hands against our protests. “I know you don’t want a battalion of employees, but you’re both very busy. I’m sure a housekeeper—”

“We have a woman who comes in every week,” I said.

“Perhaps, but that must hardly make a dent in your workload, Paige. A housekeeper could do the laundry, cooking, day-to-day tidying.” He looked at Lucas. “I’m sure it isn’t easy for Paige, especially with you gone so much.”

“We do fine,” I said.

“Perhaps, but I have someone in mind. A young witch, recently emigrated and in a rather difficult position.”

“Father,” Lucas said sharply. “That is—”

“I—I’ll be downstairs,” I said quickly. “Helping Maria and Sav—”

Benicio caught my arm. “My apologies, Paige. That was underhanded of me. Yes, there is a witch, but I’ll find her other work. I simply want to make things easier for both of you. Your time is so much better spent on the work you love. We’ll speak no more of housekeepers, though.”

“Or new houses,” Lucas said.

Benicio nodded and let us lead him down the hall toward Savannah’s room.

“I did want to ask about your honeymoon, though. How are you getting there? The last thing you need is airport delays. I’m not using the jet this week—”

“No, Papá.”

“Have you decided how you’re getting to the reception? I hope it’s not a limousine. Weddings should be special. Romantic. Perhaps a horse-drawn coach—”

“Benicio?” Maria looked up as she climbed the stairs. “If you want to help, I have something you could do. I know Paige and Lucas wouldn’t want to impose by asking …”

“Anything,” Benicio said.

“It’s the reception favors. Savannah and I are making them—putting the candies into the little pillows and tying on the ribbons. Could you give us a hand?”

“Er, yes, I suppose—”

Maria put her hand on Benicio’s arm and led him away. “And could you ask the boys to come in and join us? Yes, hardly bodyguard duties, but I know they’ll be good sports. We can make a production line of it …”

Countdown: nineteen hours

“Black and white,” I said, staring down at the brandy snifters stuffed with matchbooks. “Black and white. Could it be any simpler?”

Savannah plucked out a fuchsia matchbook. “Maybe they thought
they were doing you a favor. Livening up a seriously boring wedding color scheme.”

Elena took a book and turned it over. “Maybe we could bleach them. The matches won’t work, but it’s a nonsmoking reception anyway. Who’ll notice?”

“I’ll buy some flowers to match,” Jaime said. “Just a few scattered in with the white ones, so it’ll look like an intentional accent color.”

“It’s not that bad. At least everything else is—” Elena stopped and crammed the matchbook back into the snifter. “Savannah? Jaime? Grab a couple glasses and we’ll set them out for the rehearsal party.”

I snatched a matchbook before they could whisk the glasses away. “Lucas with a K? Who spells Lucas with a K? Where’s my phone? Maybe a rush order—”

“I thought you didn’t even want matchbooks,” Savannah said.

“Well, no, but—” I took a deep breath. “Oh God, I can’t believe I’m panicking over the matchbooks.”

Jaime grabbed my arm and motioned for Elena to take the other one. “Savannah, hon? See if you can scare up a bottle of champagne. If anyone complains, tell them it’s an emergency.”

Countdown: fifteen hours

After three glasses of champagne, the matchbooks could have spontaneously combusted and burned down the reception hall and I wouldn’t have cared.

We held the rehearsal party in the hotel meeting lounge. Just finger foods and drinks, decompressing and enjoying the company of friends before the insanity to come.

“—walking around the corner,” I was saying. “And Lucas is madly waving me back, but, nope, I’m not retreating because I have this spell.”

“Which she’d only mastered the week before,” Lucas said, quickly glancing around to make sure his mother wasn’t nearby. “But, naturally, she’s eager to use it.”

Elena grinned. “Naturally.”

“Understandable,” Lucas said. “Though, perhaps, in hindsight, testing it against a Ferratus half-demon may not have been the most…judicious choice.”

“So he’s barreling around the corner, and I’m standing there, as calmly as can be, reciting my spell. I cast it and— Pfft. Nothing. Here comes this half-demon, high on god knows what, and me planted in his path like a moron going, ‘Hmm, that’s odd. The spell should have worked …’”

Someone tapped Lucas’s shoulder. I turned to see Troy.

“Fair warning,” Troy murmured to Lucas. “Your dad’s making his way over here. He wants to talk to you about the wedding.”

“Wedding’s tomorrow,” Clay said. “Tell him it’s too late to bug you about it. Better yet, I can.”

Jeremy laid his hand on Clay’s shoulder and shook his head. “Let me run interference this time. He wanted to speak to me on another matter.”

As Jeremy slipped away, Jaime shook her head. “Is it just a control thing with Benicio?”

“I think he honestly wants to be involved,” I said. “Problem is, his idea of involvement
is
control. But if it gets worse, we have a backup plan.”

“In the meantime, why don’t you guys call it a night,” Elena said. “It’s getting late. Slip out now and get a good night’s sleep. I’ll call you a cab.”

“Better yet, take your dad’s ride.” Troy grinned. “He can’t complain about that…and he can’t follow you without his wheels. Come on. I’ll talk to the driver.”

“Here,” Troy said as we crawled into the SUV’s leather rear seat. He handed us a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “I’ve told the driver to take the scenic route. Oh, and—”

He leaned in and pressed the button to raise the black glass divider between the front and rear seats.

“How, uh, private is that?” I asked.

He grinned. “One-way glass and completely soundproof. Enjoy.”

Countdown: eight hours

Lucas reached over and brushed a curl off my cheek. I slid across the six inches of mattress between us, and snuggled under his arm, head on his chest.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked.

“Awhile.”

“Worrying?”

“A bit.”

He adjusted his arm under me, hand dropping to my bare hip. “About the wedding particulars…or the generality?”

I tilted back my head to look up at him. “The particulars. You know that. I’m definitely getting married today, and I’ve been practicing my binding spell, so don’t even think of running.”

A soft chuckle. “I won’t. So I presume, then, that a wedding gift, given now, would not be unreasonably premature?”

I jumped up and swung over him, crouching on all fours and grinning down. “A gift? For me?”

He blew strands of my hair off his face. “No, for my other wife-to-be.”

I scrambled off him and hopped from the bed.

“It’s in—” he began.

I grabbed a bag from under the bed and handed it to him. “Yours first.”

His brows arched, then he pulled himself up until he was sitting, his back against the headboard. He reached into the bag and pulled out an old leather-bound grimoire.

His brows arched higher. “I’ve been looking for this for—”

“Years,” I said, plunking down beside him. “But you didn’t have Robert Vasic to dig it up for you. Now, where’s mine?”

He opened the book and began leafing through it.

“My gift, Cortez,” I said, reaching for the book.

He snatched it away at the last second. As I fell forward, he grabbed me and pulled me to him in a laughing kiss that turned slow and delicious, and all thoughts of my gift slid from my brain until I felt something poke my shoulder.

I turned to see him nudging my back with a manila envelope. I took it, opened it, and pulled out …

“A list?” I said, staring down at the handwritten page.

“A to-do list.” As I frowned, he plucked it from my fingers. “Step one: Pick a suitable date. Step two: Confirm with all parties. Step three: Select a destination from the choices provided.” Still reading, he took three glossy brochures from the envelope and passed them to me. “Step four:
Book flights. Step five: Plan itinerary. Step six: Enjoy seven days of hell chaperoning five teenage girls.” He laid the paper down. “I thought it was time the Sabrina School had a class outing.”

“You mean—” My throat dried up. “A get-together? With the girls? That’d be amazing. Some of them might not be able to afford it, but if I can scrape together—”

“Would I give you a gift you need to pay for yourself? It’s been scraped. Or, I should say, reallocated from the fund formerly designated for a suitably ostentatious engagement ring, which the recipient refused to allow her fiancé to purchase.”

I kissed him so hard he pulled back, laughing and gasping for breath. Then he lowered me onto the bed and we kissed, bodies entwining—

The alarm sounded.

Lucas glanced over at it. “When is your first appointment?”

“Eleven.”

He shut off the alarm, then leaned over me again. “Then I propose we take advantage of the respite—and the empty house—and allow ourselves a well-earned lazy morning.” He tickled his fingers up my side. “I’ll finish what I began. Then, when you’re properly woken, I’ll whisk you away to a leisurely breakfast at Angelo’s.”

“I think I’m going to like being married.”

His mouth lowered to mine. I slid my hands down to his—

The doorbell rang.

“Didn’t hear it,” I murmured against his lips.

“Hear what?” he said, resuming the kiss.

It rang again. I let out a curse. Lucas lifted his head, hesitated, then motioned for me to wait. He crawled from bed, pulled on pants, grabbed a shirt, and padded into the hall as the bell rang again.

I waited two minutes, then pulled on my robe and crept in the hall to hear him arguing with someone at the door, his civility quickly fraying. Yes, the breakfast tray was a thoughtful gesture, and please, thank his father for that. Yes, while the morning at a spa sounded quite nice, we’d already booked our appointments. No, Lucas did not need to consult with his wife-to-be on that. No, we did not need lunch catered for the wedding party. No, we had not changed our mind about the jazz trio….

Finally, after physically edging his father’s messenger out, Lucas
sighed, forehead resting against the closed door. I crept up behind him and put my arms around his waist.

“Time to enact the backup plan?” I murmured.

“I believe so.”

Now that Lucas
wanted
to meet with his father, though, Benicio was nowhere to be found. So we enjoyed our breakfast at Angelo’s, then headed to the hotel to gather our respective halves of the wedding party and get ready.

Before we parted, I squeezed Lucas’s hand. “So I guess the next time I see you will be at the altar.”

He leaned down to kiss my forehead. “It’s a date.”

Countdown: five hours, thirty minutes

I found Savannah with Elena, Jaime, and Talia—Adam’s mother—in a corner table at the hotel restaurant.

Talia pulled out a seat for me. “I was just telling Savannah how much I loved the invitations. She did such a great job with them.”

“The invitations?” I laughed. “Believe me, Savannah didn’t pick those. She said they were the most boring things she’d ever—”

I stopped, gaze crossing over three confused faces and settling on Savannah, who was studiously picking apart a chocolate croissant. I turned to Talia, who had her wedding invitation in hand.

“May I see that?” I said, taking it before she could answer.

On the front of my invitation—my very formal, very simple wedding invitation—someone had sketched a cartoon of Samantha from
Bewitched
and Harry Potter. I stared at it, then burst out laughing.

“Did you do that on all of them?” I looked at her and sobered. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

“Only ours,” Savannah said. “The humans got the boring plain ones. Well, except Talia.”

Talia’s brows arched. “Humans? Is that what we are to you?
Humans?
”

“Okay, supernaturally challenged.” Savannah ducked Talia’s swat, then looked over at me. “So I’m not in trouble?”

“Only if you don’t make us one for our keepsake box. Now, we have hair appointments—”

My cell phone rang. It was Lucas, still looking for Benicio.

“Is my mother there?” he asked.

“Not yet. We were just going to swing by and grab her for the salon.”

A pause. “Ah. Well, if you see my father…anywhere, could you please tell him I’m looking for him?”

Maria was up, but not quite ready. She popped into the bathroom. I could hear low voices from inside, like she’d turned on a radio. As I turned, my gaze snagged on a pair of leather loafers half hidden under the bed. Men’s leather loafers, brand new and very expensive.

The bathroom door opened and Maria hurried out, closing it behind her.

“Oh,” I said. “Lucas is looking for Benicio. He wants to speak to him. If you see him…anywhere, could you relay the message? I’ll just wait in the hall. Let you finish getting ready.”

I called Lucas back from the hotel.