Page 108 of Bloodgrove

“Of course.” She smiled at him. “But not here, in my wedding dress.”

“Of course.” Will’s gaze traveled over the white fabric that covered her to the throat, the lace winding around her neck and wrists like restraints, and the diadem of long spikes that looked so much like the mask she had worn when they first met. Her maid would add the long veil when the time came.

“If I were marrying you, I would marry you in the silk dress,” he said before he could stop himself. He would never forget the sight of her wrapped in the soft silk, the storm in her eyes while the clouds broke beyond the windows.

She laughed softly. “Then I suppose I shall have to become a widow soon.”

At that moment, a loud murmur swept through the crowd. The small orchestra fell silent, and the servants returned to their places along the walls.

“He is here,” Elodie breathed and leaned over the balustrade.

Carried by six vampires in chains, the Red Hand’s palanquin divided the crowd like a ship cutting through a tide. Everyone sank to the floor, and the voices grew louder. It was the night of the full moon, and Elodie had truly succeeded in bringing the most powerful man in the city into her home.

Hidden within the folds of her vast skirts, Will gently squeezed Elodie’s hand. She returned the pressure, nearly breaking his fingers.

“There is your fiancé,” Will whispered. From this height, the scene felt distant, not quite real, merely another opera. The villain and his faithful servant had entered the stage, confident of victory before the finale. Will could only hope the performance would run its course and the heroine would have her revenge.

As expected, Duke Wilkinson hurried to the Red Hand and basked in the glory as though the entire affair had been his idea from the beginning.

“He did nothing for this,” Will growled. Elodie had sold everything of value in the house. She had ingratiated herself with the worst people, nodding and smiling, allowing herself to be struck and insulted, all for this one goal. And no one would acknowledge it, because she had not achieved it through force. She had danced her way into the minds of the nobility, and now every one of them had come. Either to watch her fall or to claim a share of her success—but all of them had unknowingly succumbed to her charm.

“You deserve this victory,” he added. He hesitated, then pressed a kiss to her temple. He dared no more, not now, with servants and guards swarming through the house and a single sharp-eyed guest could catch them. “It has been an honor to work for you.”

She smiled up at him, and her little finger hooked around his.

“We will see each other on the other side.”

Then she was gone, and Will watched four scarlet, disfigured priests enter the ballroom. Four months ago, the sight of them would have shocked him. Now, his thoughts remained with Elodie.

She had seemed strangely distant, even when he showed her the ballroom. Her praise should have been everything he wanted, but she had merely nodded and sent in the servants.

Chapter 54

Building with magic meant creating without compromise, the purest version of his vision. And for Elodie, he had fused two hearts and had merged the cruel, ensnaring beauty of this city with his bones. A ribbed vault of white marble and rough limestone flowed into a central column that rose like an immense tree, supporting the ceiling and spreading its branches across the room. The hall had become a white fairy grove—a vast mosaic pond shimmered across the floor, and stone vines crept over windowsills and fireplaces. Pale tracery, pointed arches, and mirrors decorated the walls as though they were the ruins of a palace long since lost beneath the sea. The guests, all dressed in dark red, moved through the white grove like fallen leaves from a copper beech.

Will stayed by the doorway after Elodie had entered the ballroom to thunderous applause. He didn’t share their excitement; melancholy wrapped itself around him, and he allowed himself a few moments to enjoy his work. No one paid him any attention, since every eye was fixed on the bride, and he let himself be enchanted by his own magic. Perhaps, in a world where the rules of magic would have been explained to him from childhood on, this might have been his reality: creating wonders.

A noblewoman spotted him and waved him over to her spot at a fireplace. Tonight, like the others, he wore dark red—a gift from Elodie, along with the reminder that she still owed him a suit. But even the knowledge that she had dressed him for their final adventure together could not overcome the heavy sense of loss.

Again and again, he accepted praise with a nod, but the only praise he longed for was Elodie’s. He barely heard the four priests declare Elodie and Duke Wilkinson husband and wife in unison. Over the heads of the guests, he watched Duke Wilkinson pull the newly married Duchess Wilkinson into a long kiss.

The guests cheered.

Will gagged.

“A blood moon!” someone cried, pointing into the red night beyond the windows.

The cheering grew louder. Through the tall balcony doors, an enormous red full moon shone into the room.

“A blessed marriage.”

“They will have powerful children.”

“The gods are with us!”

At the same time, the Red Hand’s vampires strained against their chains, and he had to calm them with magic. From where he stood, Will could barely make out the man’s expression, but what he could see promised nothing good. Elodie had not only drawn him from his lair during a full moon, but during a blood moon as well. And from everything Will had learned about this city, that could only mean even greater power.

It felt as though Elodie had planned even that, impossible as it was.