Silent Bite-A Scanguards Wedding (1001 Dark Nights) (9 page)

His colleague nodded.

“Good. I need somebody to watch that Ursula’s parents don’t enter the tent.”

“Something wrong?”

“You could say that.”

Cain tilted his head toward the door to the living room. “Thomas and Eddie just arrived. Maybe they can watch the entrance to the tent. I would do it myself, but I still have to do a sweep of the perimeter.”

“I’ll ask them.”

Not losing a second, Oliver marched into the living room. Thomas and Eddie stood near the fireplace, talking in low voices, though he could hear what they were saying thanks to his superior vampire hearing. His vampire colleagues were both blond, but they looked very different tonight. They had exchanged their usual leather biker uniform for elegant black tuxedos and looked like eligible bachelors from a TV show. Only, the two weren’t single. In fact, they were married—to each other.

“Thomas, Eddie!” Oliver called out to them, interrupting their—very intimate—conversation. The two lovebirds had only gotten together a short while earlier and by the looks of it were still in their honeymoon phase.

“Oliver, the man of the hour,” Thomas replied with a smile.

“Is this how you’re getting married?” Eddie asked, shaking his head.

“’Course not. But I need your help right now. Can you guard the tent for me?”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “You think somebody’s gonna walk off with it?”

Ignoring his joke, Oliver said, “Just guard the entrance and make sure that neither Ursula’s parents nor any of the other humans enter the tent.”

“Sure, we can do that. But why don’t you want them to enter the tent?”

“Because the flowers are white, and they need to be red. Or it’s bad luck.”

Eddie shrugged. “Okay, that makes no sense, but if you want us there, we’ll do it, right?” He looked at his partner, who nodded.

“Thanks guys!” Relieved, Oliver rushed out of the room and into the kitchen. Several members of the catering staff were feverishly working on preparing food. But the person he was looking for wasn’t in the room. Leaving the kitchen, he pulled out his cell and dialed a number.

“Yeah?” Wesley replied.

“I need you to do me a favor. Can you come to the house right now?” Oliver walked along the corridor when the door to the basement and garage opened.

“I’m already here.” Wes stepped through the door. Behind him, Haven appeared, and a moment later, Blake.

“You’re not dressed yet?” Blake asked. “The guests will start arriving soon.”

“What were you guys doing down there?” Oliver asked, ignoring Blake’s question. It would take him all of five minutes to get dressed.

Wes gave a noncommittal grunt and brushed some dust from the sleeve of his tuxedo. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“There’s a problem with the flowers.”

“What problem?” Wes asked. “They looked perfect when they came this morning. I made sure of it. Hey, if they screwed something up after that, it’s not my fault! Besides, I was doing you a favor!”

Oliver grabbed his friend by the shoulder. “Hey! I’m not blaming you. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. They’re the wrong color. We can’t have white flowers at the wedding. It’s bad luck. I need them to be red.”

Wes tossed him a not-my-problem-look. “There’s no way you can get a florist to supply that many red flower arrangements in the short time we’ve got left. Even if you went to several florists, they wouldn’t have enough to replace all the current ones.”

“For once, Wes is right,” Haven added.

Wes glared at his brother. “I said I’m sorry! Okay? I’ll deal with the dogs after the wedding.”

“You mean the pigs?” Blake threw in, chuckling.

Wes whirled around to Blake. “You’re not helping!”

“Stop it!” Oliver ground out. “That’s not important now. What’s important is that Wesley turned the pigs red.” And that unfortunate incident would now provide the solution to his problem.

Haven loosened his bow tie. “Well, at least somebody agrees that my little brother has no business practicing witchcraft.” He tossed a sideways glance at Wes.

“One of these days you’re going to change your opinion on that,” Wes warned.

“Quiet!” Oliver shouted, and at last all three fell silent and stared at him as if he’d finally lost it. Maybe he had. “Wes, I need your help. You have to turn the flowers in the tent red. Now. Before Ursula’s parents see them.”

“How?”

“You turned the pigs red. Use the same spell!”

A wide grin spread over Wesley’s face. “Does that mean you’re going to donate a little more of your blood?”

“Just for this one spell,” Oliver conceded.

Wesley dug into his inside pocket and pulled out a glass vial.

“You always carry a vial around with you?” Blake asked.

Wesley winked at him. “First rule of a bodyguard: you’ve always gotta be prepared.”

Haven rolled his eyes. “More like first rule of an opportunist.”

Wes shrugged. “I need a few things from your pantry too. And a few minutes to mix the potion. Preferably where nobody can walk in on us.”

“The gym downstairs,” Oliver suggested.

Instantly, all three shook their heads.

“How about in the laundry room?” Haven suggested instead.

“That’ll work.”

It took fifteen minutes after Oliver had
donated
some blood before Wesley’s potion was ready for use. Making sure Thomas and Eddie were at their places to watch that nobody entered the tent, Haven stood inside the tent, blocking the walkway to the tradesmen entrance so none of the catering staff would disturb them during the spell, while Blake blocked the kitchen door so none of the waiters or kitchen staff could look into the tent from there.

“Do your thing,” Oliver said, waving his arms at the white flower arrangements that stood on the tables and decorated the podium as well as the rods that held the tent up.

There were tables and chairs for over a hundred guests in the tent. While the tablecloths were white, the white covers for the chairs sported red bows. And the napkins were equally red. He had to admit he liked the rich color. It reminded him of Ursula’s blood.

“Step back,” Wesley warned and walked into the middle of the tent.

Oliver heard him mumble something incoherent—presumably the spell—before he tossed the vial with the potion on the ground.

Instinctively Oliver took another step back when red smoke rose from the broken glass vial. As it swirled around, one by one the flowers turned red. But the flowers weren’t the only things that took on the magical color: the tablecloths and chair covers also turned red.

Oliver shrugged. It couldn’t hurt.

Wesley turned around to him, smiling broadly.

Next to Oliver, Haven hissed in a breath. Then he took a few steps toward his brother, hugged him roughly, and slapped him on the shoulder. “You did well, Wes! I’m proud of you.”

If Oliver didn’t have enhanced vampire vision, he would have missed the wet sheen that built in Wesley’s eyes as a reaction to his big brother’s compliment.

Finally Wesley had achieved something to win the approval of his brother. Maybe screwing up on the flowers hadn’t been so bad after all.

Oliver smiled. Nothing else could go wrong now.

11

For almost two hours he’d watched all the guests arrive. Nobody noticed him standing in the shadow of a hedge on the other side of the street. They were too busy parading in their fancy clothes. More humans than vampires arrived for the event, many of the humans Chinese. Clearly, the bride had a large extended family, though none of her relatives seemed to carry the special blood. Even from across the street he would have been able to smell it, so attuned was he to it.

Human valets were parking the guests’ cars, and a vampire guard at the entrance door checked the invitations. Another vampire guard stood at the tradesmen entrance through which the service personnel, the waiters and kitchen staff, entered.

He’d dressed appropriately. In his black tuxedo he would blend in with the guests as if he belonged there. Only the vampires on the premises would know he didn’t. But soon they would all be in the tent at the back of the house, and the only one he’d have to deal with was the one guarding the entrance door.

The house was lit like a Christmas tree. It made it easy for him to watch the goings-on. When the living room started to empty out, he knew that the guests were taking their places in the tent. It couldn’t be much longer now.

He lifted his eyes to the upper floor. In one of the rooms, Ursula would be waiting, alone, while everybody else would be in the tent.

It was time.

Calmly, he crossed the street and walked up to the entrance door, out of sight of the vampire guarding the side entrance. The door to the house was open, but blocking it was a vampire guard. The guy didn’t know him, and that was his advantage.

He flashed a charming smile at the guard. “I hope I’m not late.”

The vampire motioned to the interior. “It’s going to start in a few minutes.” Then he nodded to him. “Your name? And your invitation please.”

“Michael Valentine,” he answered and reached into his jacket pocket. “Uh, and here’s my invitation.”

With a single swift move, he pulled a stake from his inside pocket and plunged it into the guard’s heart, before the man could even react.

The vampire disintegrated into dust. Michael turned to assure himself that the vampire guarding the side door hadn’t heard anything suspicious. There was no sound coming from the tradesmen entrance. Quickly he swept the set of keys, cell phone, and loose change that remained from the vampire into the bushes.

Unimpeded, he entered the house. Without hesitation, he walked up the stairs, when he heard the music in the tent starting. But there would be no ceremony. No wedding. No blood-bond.

I’m coming for you, Ursula.

* * * *

“I think that’s our cue,” her father said when music came drifting up from the tent.

Ursula turned away from the full-length mirror in the guestroom and faced him.

He smiled back at her. “You look beautiful, Wei Ling. You’re a woman now. You make us very proud, me and your mother.”

“Even though I’m not marrying a Chinese man?”

“That was never very important to me.” He chuckled. “Now, your mother, that’s another story. But she’ll get used to it. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you, Dad.” She leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek.

For a moment, she hesitated. There was so much she wanted to tell him, to confess who Oliver was and what he’d done for her. How he’d rescued her from a life in shackles. Her parents knew nothing of it. After her release from the blood brothel, Oliver and Scanguards had gone through great lengths to wipe her parents’ memories and done the same with everybody who knew about her three-year disappearance. But there were moments like these when she wanted to tell the truth, though she knew it would only lead to pain.

“I love you, Dad,” she whispered instead. “For everything you and Mom have done for me.”

Somewhat embarrassed, her father smiled. “Time to go and meet your husband.”

“I don’t think so!” A menacing male voice came from the door as it shut behind him.

Ursula whirled her head around to the intruder and almost tripped over her long red dress. Her breath caught in her throat when she recognized the man. Though she didn’t remember his name, she knew he was one of the former clients of the blood brothel. Leeches, she and the other girls had called them.

“What is this?” her father asked, outraged. “Get out!”

“Only once I have what I want!” the vampire snarled, his eyes now glaring red, and his fangs descending.

Her father gasped, but Ursula knew the vampire’s look all too well. He’d come for her blood.

“What are you?!” her father choked out as he moved in front of Ursula as if to protect her.

But Ursula knew her father was no match for the vampire. No human was. She squeezed past him, glaring at the leech.

“Oliver will kill you if you harm me!” she warned.

“He won’t catch us. We’ll be long gone by the time he realizes.”

At his words, Ursula shook her head in disbelief. No! He hadn’t simply come to attack her here and drink her blood, he was planning to kidnap her!

“No!” she screamed, but she knew that the music in the tent would prevent her scream from reaching Oliver’s ears. He would stand there at the podium, waiting for her in vain. Waiting, while she was being kidnapped.

“Now come to me, and I won’t hurt you,” the vampire promised, then added, “ . . . much.”

“Leave my daughter alone, you monster!” her father yelled and jumped toward him before she could stop him.

“No! Dad! No!”

But it was too late. With one punch, the vampire knocked her father clear across the room and into the wall, where he collapsed with a groan.

“Oh no! Dad! No!” She ran her eyes over his body. She couldn’t see any blood, but the impact could have left internal injuries. Inside her, anger and worry collided. “You’ll pay for this!”

The vampire chuckled, and the sound made her shiver in disgust. Like a tiger, he approached, setting one foot in front of the other. Slowly, as if he enjoyed this and didn’t want it to end too soon. Like a cat playing with a mouse.

Frantically she looked around the room for anything she could use as a weapon, but came up empty.

She was at his mercy now.

“I’ve waited for this for so long,” her attacker confessed. “All those days in my cold cell I was dreaming of this, of finding another blood whore. I’d almost given up.”

“Get away from me!” she warned again. “Oliver will kill you.”

A moan from where her father had collapsed told her he was alive. She cast a quick glance in his direction and realized he was trying to move, but struggled.

“Maybe,” the vampire hedged. “But only after I’ve gotten what I wanted.” He fletched his fangs and took another step toward her.

Like a cold fist, fear clamped around her heart. She could see it in his eyes now: the madness. He wouldn’t be able to stop drinking from her once he started. He would drain her.