“Just friends, period,” I said. “She’s getting married.”
I didn’t know how else to describe it. I’d put my feelings for Willow into storage when I’d found out she was going to be Danvers’s blushing bride, but I couldn’t stand by and let her marry a monster.
“But you don’t have feelings for her?” she challenged. Why was Naomi pursuing this? And in front of Wren?
“Of course I do,” I admitted. “She’s my friend. I like her and I owe her a debt of gratitude. Besides, I bet you’ve never been to a necromancer’s wedding.” I hadn’t been to one, either.
“What about the aunts?”
“I don’t think they’re invited,” I replied.
She raised an eyebrow. “Of course they’re attending. I mean Wren. What if they recognize Wren?”
“Deci and Morta met her the other night at Claire’s,” I reminded her. Contrarily, I wanted to go to the wedding now. “Having Claire back will keep them off my back, at least temporarily.”
“What should I wear?” Wren asked.
“We’ll go shopping,” Naomi said.
“It’s an evening wedding, so I’d go with formal attire.”
“Where’s it going to be?” Naomi asked. “Some moldy old graveyard at midnight?”
“No,” Talbot said. “It’s at the Saint Paul Hotel.”
I whistled. “Fancy. How do you know that?”
“We got an invite as well,” he explained. “A few years ago, Dad sold Sean Danvers a rare athame, one of two owned by famous necromancer twins. Danvers stops in the store every once in a while to see if the matching knife has shown up.”
“Been studying up on necromancers, have we?”
He gave me a meaningful look. “I thought the knowledge might be useful.”
Wren and Naomi had their heads together.
“I’m taking Wren shopping,” Naomi announced.
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
Naomi and Wren both gave me amused looks. “No way,” Naomi said. “We’ll be fine. I’ve wanted to get to know Wren better anyway, and a shopping trip is the perfect opportunity.”
Talbot and I exchanged worried glances, but there was no stopping my cousin.
“I don’t have any money,” Wren said.
“I can take care of that,” I said. I dug through my jeans pockets and came up with five hundred dollars.
“That’s a start,” Naomi said. “Nyx, having a girlfriend is expensive.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I muttered.
I said good-bye to Wren reluctantly, but she couldn’t follow me around forever. “Be careful,” I called out after them, but they were already out the door.
“You two have been spending a lot of time together,” Talbot said.
I glared at him. “Are you forgetting that I just broke up with Elizabeth?”
“You’re practically acting like an old married couple.”
“We spend twenty-four seven together,” I said. “What did you expect?”
“Do you like her?” he asked.
“What’s not to like?”
“You know what I’m talking about,” he said.
There was a surprising rush, and it was almost four o’clock before there was a break.
“We didn’t even have time for lunch,” I complained, but it was halfhearted. I had actually enjoyed the rush, even though it was a short-lived one.
Talbot stared at me. “There’s something different about you.”
I pushed the memory of the night I’d spent with Wren to the back of my mind. “Quit fucking with me and get back to work,” I said.
“No, really,” he replied. “You look…older.”
“Older? Not possible,” I said. “I’m stuck, remember?” I’d been twenty-three ever since my mother had died, over two hundred years ago. I’d stay that way until I found my thread of fate.
“Well, something unstuck you,” he said. “You look older.” I shrugged it off, but Talbot’s comment bothered me the rest of my shift. “We need to talk to Dad when he comes back.”
Wren and Naomi came back hours later. Naomi didn’t look like she’d enjoyed their little excursion, though. Her face looked like she’d swallowed a tornado.
“When were you going to tell me?” Naomi asked.
“Tell you what?” Talbot asked, but we both knew what she was talking about. The message was clear on her face.
I glanced at Wren to see if she’d spilled the sibling beans, but she shook her head.
“That Wren is my sister,” Naomi continued. “Or, more accurately, half sister, since her mother is Hecate.”
“I’m sorry, Naomi,” Wren said. “I wanted to tell you, but…”
“But Nyx convinced you not to,” Naomi replied. “It’s not your fault, Wren.”
My cousin was angrier than I’d ever seen her. Her face was red, her eyes were squinty from the effort of holding back tears, and she was sweating. But underneath the anger, there was pain and disappointment.
There was no sense in denying it. “How did you find out?”
“I noticed when we were in the underworld,” Naomi said coldly. “But I thought it was just a coincidence until Nyx did that tricky little occulo spell to conceal what Wren looked like.”
“We had to,” I said. “She looks so much like—”
“Like Sawyer,” Naomi finished coldly. “And me.”
“He’s still your dad,” I said.
“Was my dad,” she said. “He’s dead, remember?”
“Naomi, he loved you, you know that.”
“He neglected to tell me I had a sister,” she said. “You don’t do that to someone you love. So everyone knew? Everyone but me?”
“Your mom doesn’t know,” I said. “And I think we should keep it that way.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You want me to lie to my own mother?”
“Don’t you think Nona’s been through enough lately?” I asked. “Do you think telling her that her deceased husband had a child with her mortal enemy is going to make her feel any better?”
“Sometimes truth is more important than anything else,” Naomi said stubbornly.
“More important than your sister’s safety?” Talbot interjected. “What do you think the Fates will do if they find out that Wren is Sawyer’s daughter?”
The discussion ended without a resolution to the question he posed, but it haunted my dreams. What would the Fates do to Wren? And how could I protect her if they came after her?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Although Naomi still wasn’t talking to me, she’d embraced her sister wholeheartedly. The evening of Willow’s wedding came and they were getting ready for the event at Claire’s; she had also been invited. That information should have set off warning bells somewhere in my brain, but I was distracted. I hated the thought of Willow marrying the necromancer, but I didn’t see how I could stop it.
When I picked Wren up at Claire’s, I was in a pissy mood. Even seeing Wren in a low-cut dress that fit her like a second skin didn’t cheer me up. Well, not much, anyway.
I chanced a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“We’d better leave or we’ll be late,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to go?” I asked. There was something in her voice that made me think she’d changed her mind.
She squared her chin like she was preparing for a fight. “I’m sure.”
On the surface, it looked almost like a high-dollar mortal wedding. The bridegroom had rented out the ballroom and spared no expense decorating it.
It was all wrong for Willow, though. She was a naiad. She should be married under the stars next to the lake where she was born, standing next to a vigorous young man. Not in a crowded ballroom to an evil man smelling of mummy dust and cruelty.
The room was full of people proudly wearing the House of Hades insignia. The House symbol had been a bident, which looked like a modern-day pitchfork, but it was too similar to Po
seidon’s trident. They’d then adopted the pomegranate to honor Hades’s unwilling bride Persephone.
Danvers, as the bridegroom, looked handsome in his tux and tails, until you got close enough to get a whiff of his soul. He’d at least had the decency to host an open bar before the ceremony.
Or maybe he figured that his guests needed some liquid encouragement to let him get his hands on Willow.
The entire room was gorgeous. Centerpieces were precisely placed on the tables and enormous bouquets of purple calla lilies were suspended from the ceiling. More calla lilies stood in vases with belladonna and white dittany. The effect was stunning, but every time I looked up, I got an oppressive feeling in my chest, like the ceiling was pressing down on me.
“Nyx, so lovely to see you here.”
We both recognized the voice. Wren flinched while I repressed a swear word. It was Nona, my least repulsive aunt. She was Naomi’s mother, which counted for a lot, and Sawyer Polydoro’s widow. If she was here, it was likely the rest of the family was somewhere in the crowded ballroom.
“I didn’t know you knew Danvers,” she continued. She swayed slightly. My aunt was drunk but was attempting to hide it.
“I don’t,” I said. “I know—I mean, I know the bride.”
“I see,” she said. I had a horrible sinking sensation that she did see exactly what my relationship with Willow had been.
“How do you know the groom?” I asked Nona.
“He knew Sawyer,” she said. She’d managed to say his name without breaking down, although tears welled in her eyes. She took a long sip of her drink.
Wren flinched at the mention of her father and I rubbed her back to soothe her.
“And who is this?” Nona asked, but there only curiosity in her eyes, instead of homicidal rage, which meant the spell had held. I wondered why her sisters hadn’t told her that I was involved with Hecate’s daughter.
“This is Wren,” I said. “Wren, this is my aunt, Nona Polydoros.”
“Naomi’s mother,” Wren said, with every appearance of delight, but her hand trembled when she held it out to shake Nona’s.
The gleaming white chandeliers were made of bone. I hoped it wasn’t human, but I wasn’t betting on it.
I spotted Trey at the bar. As I watched him, the wedding planner, who looked like he was more used to arranging faces than flowers, tapped him on the shoulder. They had a short conversation and Trey’s lips tightened. He shook his head several times, but the wedding planner handed him a note.
Trey walked over to an older sea nymph. He whispered something in her ear and she began to screech. He hustled her away, but not before the entire room had turned their way.
“What’s going on?” I asked Nona, but before she could answer, we were joined by Deci and Morta. I was surprised to find that the sight of them made me feel better, which said a lot about the tension in the room.
I had a suspicion my aunts had meddled in this somehow. Or maybe I didn’t want to admit that Willow might be going through with it willingly.
Whatever Trey had learned rippled through the room like a cold breeze. A couple of older women wearing House of Poseidon jewelry stalked out of the room.
“The groom has requested a Pignus Sanguinus,” Morta explained.
“What is that?” I asked. “Why is everyone so riled up?” For a second, I’d had the irrational hope that Willow had refused to go through with the marriage.
“He’s called for a blood oath,” Naomi said. I hadn’t seen her and Talbot arrive. I gave her a hug.
“How old-school,” Nona said, her nose wrinkling.
“What’s a blood oath?” I asked, though it was probably what it sounded like.
Nona didn’t meet my eyes. “If the bride is ever disloyal, she dies.”
“You mean he has the right to kill her?”
“No,” Nona replied. “The spell kills her. The groom might not even know.”
“That’s barbaric.”
“What about for him?” Wren asked.
“The bride’s family did not make the same request,” Nona replied.
Willow would probably be happy if he did cheat. Why was she tying herself to such a loathsome creature as Sean Danvers?
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
There was no sign of Willow. I wandered around until I spotted a giggling pack of naiads.
“Where’s the happy bride?” I asked.
The youngest one giggled. I smiled at her, but her sisters scolded her. She looked at her feet until they’d lost interest. Then she gave me a beaming grin and pointed upward and held up six fingers, before skipping away.
The sixth floor.
I knocked on a few of the wrong doors, which got me nothing but cursing and, in one case, an invitation to join them. I declined politely.
I finally found the right door. Willow was surrounded by chattering naiads, but they all fell silent when they saw me.
Willow was in her wedding gown, which consisted of so many layers of tulle that it looked like they were smothering her. Her dark hair had been severely straightened. She sat at a vanity, staring into its shiny glass surface. I doubt she even saw her own reflection, though.
“Willow?” I said softly. “I’ve brought you a present.”
Her pale blue skin had been covered with a heavy white powder. She smelled of misery and dark magic. She didn’t seem to hear me, so I touched her shoulder. She finally looked up, but her eyes were faraway. They finally regained their focus. “Nyx, what are you doing here?”
“I’m worried about you,” I said. “Why are you marrying that asshole?”
“It is none of your concern,” she said. She looked at her staring bridesmaids and snapped, “Leave us.”
They filed out of the room, but Willow still didn’t say anything.
“Don’t do it,” I said.
“You are a child,” she hissed at me. “Wanting only what you cannot have.”
“That is probably true,” I said. Her words hurt me more than I expected. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m your friend.”
She didn’t answer me, just kept staring into the mirror. Finally, she said, “I have to marry him.”
“You don’t have to,” I said.
“You don’t understand,” she replied. “I am marrying him today and that’s final. He’s even put in a specially made pool at his house on Magician’s Row.”
“Since when do you care about a pool?”
“Since I need water to live,” she reminded me. “Danvers expects us to live together. Always.” The gloomy tone in her voice made me want to scoop her up and carry her out of there, but she’d just go back.
I took a small wrapped box out of my pocket. “A wedding gift.”
“Thank you, Nyx,” she said, but she didn’t pick it up.
“Open it,” I said. “Please.”
She unwrapped it carefully. The moonstone gleamed up at her. “I thought it could be your something blue,” I said.
“What?”
“Something borrowed, something blue,” I said. “It’s a mortal wedding custom.”
“Oh,” she said. Willow’s expression didn’t change, but I noticed a slight tremor in her hand. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
I undid the clasp and put the chain around her neck, tucking the moonstone under her layers of tulle, where her groom wouldn’t see it. At least not right away.
I shut my mind against the thought of her wedding night.
“It’s for protection,” I said.
“Protection from what?” she asked, but the answer was in her eyes. Her future husband was a woman-hating fanatic. Her life with him would be a living hell. What I couldn’t figure out was why she was chaining herself to such a monster.
“From whatever,” I said. I kissed her forehead. “Willow, promise me that if you ever need help, you will come to me. No matter what.”
She nodded. “I promise. Now you must leave me.”
I cradled her chee
k in my palm, reluctant to leave her. We stayed that for a long time, but then Willow stirred. “I must finish my preparations now.”
I returned to the ballroom, not relieved at all. “Where were you?” Wren asked. “You’ve been gone for half an hour.”
“I needed to talk to Willow,” I said in a low voice. I didn’t want to advertise the fact that I’d been trying to talk the bride out of going through with it.
Unfortunately, our little talk didn’t seem to have done any good.
I caught Deci staring at us. What did she want? “I’m going to get us some drinks,” I said.
It was an open bar, after all. I ordered a glass of wine for Naomi, and a shot of Jack for Talbot and me.
When I turned around, Deci was there. “You brought the hell spawn to the wedding?”
“Nice to see you, too,” I said. “You’re looking better than the last time I saw you.” I wasn’t expecting a thank-you and none was forthcoming, but she looked like she’d made a miraculous recovery from Gaston’s poisoning.
She curled her lip at me. “You are blind, son of Fortuna, like all men,” she said.
Before I could ask what she was babbling about, the wedding planner tapped on the microphone for the band. “Please be seated,” he said. “The ceremony is about to begin.”
“It’s starting,” Deci said. “We have seats in the front, of course.”
“Nyx, you and your date should join us,” Morta said. It was a command cloaked in an invitation.
I took Wren’s hand and we followed my aunts to the folded chairs in the front row. Naomi led Talbot to chairs behind us. I turned around and mouthed, Traitor. She gave me a cheeky grin.
“Your aunts seem nice,” Wren said.
I snorted with laughter. “Morta makes Lady Macbeth look like a pussycat,” I replied. “And Deci is the most bitter person I’ve ever met.”
“What’s Nona like?” she asked.
Before I could reply, the groom and his best man took their places at the front. Danvers had a smug smile on his face and I wanted to wipe it away with my fist. I hated the sight of him, and it wasn’t because he was marrying Willow. Okay, it wasn’t only because of that.
There was something off-putting about the way his head was too large for his body, his slicked-back hair, and his chiseled jawline. He was a hair too tall, too rich, and too sure of himself.