Chapter 26 In Wild Disarray
Jack Webster
I had officiated over a hundred weddings in my time. Some were beautiful, some were awkward, and some were downright bizarre. But this one? Oh, this one was already shaping up to be something I’d tell my grandkids about.
Assuming I lived that long.
I stepped into the music room of Evermere, a mansion that looked more like something plucked from a Martha Stewart magazine.
Much fancier than any place I had performed a marriage before.
With vaulted ceilings, intricate gold crown molding, and a grand piano off to the side, it felt less like a manor house and more like a palace.
Which, I supposed, made sense. King Lucian had personally asked me to oversee this union, a fact that still made me a touch uneasy. There were rumors about the vampire king’s sons, the trio of dhampir princes who worked as monster hunters and enforcers of supernatural law.
And now they were getting married.
To the same woman.
The girl must have nerves of steel, I thought, glancing toward the entryway where she was meant to enter. Or she’s been drugged.
I was curious to meet her, truth be told, but then I saw the grooms and…
Oh. My. God.
The first one I spotted was the tallest. He had cognac brown eyes, an aura of mischief, and an outrageous outfit.
A ruffled poet’s shirt, dramatic as sin, tucked into black trousers beneath a fitted brocade velvet jacket that looked like it had been pulled straight from the closet of a Victorian stage actor.
His short, untamable red hair stood in wild disarray, as though he’d rolled straight out of bed, thrown on the most outrageous thing he owned, and decided, Yes.
This is exactly the vibe I want to bring to my wedding today.
I could not for the life of me figure out why no one else seemed surprised by this choice of attire.
Even the glowering man with a face like a Norse war god only turned his head slightly and muttered, “Really, Zane?” in a tone that suggested this was both entirely expected and still somehow exasperating.
“I’m making an effort, brother. This is me trying.” The redhead—Zane, I now knew—shrugged and flashed a grin far too smug for a groom about to enter a legally binding marriage. “Zane Cimmerian,” he introduced himself, even bowing as he shook my hand.
“Jack Webster, at your service, Prince Zane.” I pulled my hand out of his as soon as civilly possible.
Next to him stood a veritable mountain of muscle and tension.
Long black hair pulled away from his face by a blue hairband, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and skin the golden tone of someone with native heritage.
He was adjusting the cuffs of his black dress shirt, which, in contrast to Zane’s flamboyant attire, was buttoned up to his throat like a man preparing for a funeral.
“Koa,” Zane said, gesturing lazily. “The animalistic one.”
“And you’re the irritating one.” Koa shot him a glare that promised violence.
“True.” Zane beamed, and Koa merely grunted. “Don’t mind him. He’s vibrating with nerves right now.”
“You want me to vibrate my fist into your face?” Koa growled low in his throat.
Sweet Jesus, he looked like he’d tear me in half if I sneezed wrong!
It was the third one, however, who unnerved me the most. He stood like a statue, tall, regal in his navy three-piece suit, his waist-length blond hair as straight as a sword’s edge.
I swore the air crackled around him, and when his gaze flicked to me, I briefly wondered if it was too late to fake my own death and escape this room.
His green eyes… I did not know how to describe them, save to say I had never felt more studied in my life.
As if I were something small and skittering he could crush if he so chose.
“Casimir Cimmerian, Mr. Webster. Thank you for coming.”
Heaven, save me. I’d heard about this one. People whispered that his mother was a Valkyrie, and now I was inclined to believe it.
Well, what did I expect dhampir monster hunters to be like? I asked myself.
I’d been told to tread carefully, and five minutes in their company told me why, but when the vampire king asks you to perform a little wedding for his sons at their estate, you don’t say no. Even if you are a human.
Especially if you are human.
I adjusted my glasses, suppressing a shiver as I wondered if I’d survive the day.
“Yo, Brum-Brum!” Zane shouted suddenly. “Put a hustle in your bustle! You’re holding up the show!”
Who?! Surely he isn’t talking to the bride that way!
I turned and froze at the wolf pup who entered the room.
And of course it wouldn’t be a normal wolf pup.
This thing was the size of a Great Dane, still obviously a pup, but with an alarming set of claws and unsettling blue eyes.
He was currently wearing a top hat. A top hat.
Complete with a black silk vest. And in his mouth was a ring pillow. Which he was actively chewing.
“Aw, c’mon, Brummy! You had one job,” Zane sighed from the piano bench. “Just carry the pillow. I told you this like eight times.”
The wolf did not care. The pillow was being disemboweled as four golden bands vanished down his throat.
That was the moment I knew this ceremony was destined for disaster.
“Brumous!” Koa groaned. “You ate the rings?!”
“Retrieve them, Z,” Casimir ordered.
“And how would you like me to do that, hmm? Use telepathy to politely ask his intestines to return them?”
“You could reach in and get them,” Koa suggested with a grin. “You got those long piano fingers. Bet they’d fit right down his throat.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Or we could just marry her without the rings,” Koa shrugged. “I’m going to be her legal husband, anyway. You two will only be her side pieces.”
“We haven’t even rolled the die yet, Koa,” Zane argued. “Besides, I’m literally the one playing her wedding music. That’s husband energy if I’ve ever seen it.”
“And I’m the one who carried her inside when we found her half-dead in the driveway,” Koa shot back. “Husband energy.”
“I’m the one who debrided the infection twice, sewed up her arm twice, and set her dislocated ankle,” Casimir deadpanned. “Husband energy.”
“Bleeding night!” Zane groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “We are not measuring our husband energy right now. Can we just—”
“Fix. The. Ring. Problem. Z,” Casimir rumbled, and I swore lightning flickered behind his green eyes.
“How?!” Zane threw his hands up. “What do you want me to do? Order him to have a digestive reversal?”
Still, he stood and lunged for Brumous, who seemed startled by the sudden motion and took off in a streak of charcoal gray, pillow stuffing and a shred of silk hanging from his jaw. Zane dove after him, narrowly missing as the wolf launched himself under the piano.
“Eight out of ten, Brumous,” Casimir called. “Minus two for poor choice of cover. Far too easy to access. Capture imminent.”
“Christ alive,” I whispered under my breath. “What is happening?”
“Cough up the rings, Brumous, or no more eggs at breakfast.” Koa’s voice turned into a storm approaching.
The wolf pup froze. Stared at Koa for ten seconds. Horked up four rings.
“God have mercy!” I exclaimed, hand flying to my mouth. “I— You— What—”
“Got ’em!” Zane emerged from beneath the piano, saliva-slick bands laid out on one palm. “Don’t worry, officiant-man. We’ll just rinse ’em off in some vodka. It’s all good.”
Casimir, who I now suspected was the only sane one here, muttered, “You’re disgusting.”
“I’m resourceful.” Zane winked, then turned toward the piano. “I’m also the musician, so if you’ll excuse me?”
And then, I kid you not, he settled himself behind the grand piano and began to play Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March.” Perfectly.
Like concert-level skill. His hands moved with such grace and precision that, for a moment, I almost forgot I was about to marry a young woman to three terrifying half-vampires using rings that their oversized wolf had just vomited up.
“Lady Serafina!” a voice rang out, and we all turned to the door where a staff member bowed at the waist.
And then she walked in.
I had seen many brides in my day, but none quite like her.
She was delicate like a bird that might break if held too tightly in her lilac dress. Not a wedding gown, but something simple and sweet that could easily be worn again. Golden hair fell in natural spirals over her shoulders, gray eyes bright with something soft and fragile, but quietly fierce.
She also had a fading bruise at her temple, a healing split lip, and a red welt on her jaw, and I would have been tempted to suspect one of her soon-to-be husbands if it wasn’t for the look she gave all three of her men.
It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t dread. It wasn’t even nervousness.
It was pure, unshakable devotion.
And the most terrifying part?
They looked at her the same way.
Three dhampirs—predator-eyed, battle-worn, cold-blooded hunters—softened the moment she entered the room.
Koa’s entire face lit up like the sun, Casimir’s wrought-iron expression eased by a fraction, and Zane transitioned into a flawless rendition of Pachelbel’s “Canon in D.” It was hauntingly beautiful, and for a brief moment, I thought perhaps the ceremony would be normal after all.
Then the wolf tried to eat her bouquet.
“Brumous!” Casimir snapped, yanking the creature back by the scruff of its neck. “Quit it.”
The wolf made a sound like a disgruntled foghorn and spat out flowers. Zane didn’t miss a note. Casimir’s face could have been carved from stone. The bride merely giggled.
She tamed them, I realized with dawning horror, but wisely decided not to comment.
“Proceed, Mr. Webster,” Casimir said coldly.
“Uh.” I licked my lips. “Right. Yes. Um. We are gathered here today—”
#
When we reached the vows, the trio of grooms produced a twenty-sided die.
“I beg your pardon?” I murmured.
“We agreed to roll for it.” Zane balanced the die on his knuckles. “Whoever gets the highest number gets to be the legal husband. You know, for tax purposes.”
I turned slowly to Seri. Surely, surely, she would object to this absurdity.
But no. She looked delighted.
Koa rolled first. Eighteen. Zane swore under his breath. Casimir rolled next. Seven. He showed no visible reaction, but I swear his hands actually creaked as they fisted at his sides. Finally, Zane rolled. Two.
“Are you serious right now?” he shrieked.
“Victory,” Koa beamed.
Miraculously, the rest of the ceremony went off without further incident, aside from Koa practically glowing with possessive pride, Casimir looking like he was mentally calculating the most effective way to kill me if I screwed up, and Zane doing, well, Zane things at the piano bench.
At one point, I even caught him making jerking-off gestures while mouthing, “Suck this,” at Koa!
By the time I reached the pronouncement, I was numb.
“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man—”
“Ahem.”
Some might have thought Casimir was simply clearing his throat. I, however, recognized it for what it was: A warning that I was seconds from the grave.
“Men and wife.” I hastily corrected. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Koa went first. Lazy, teasing, like he had all the time in the world to savor her. Zane’s kiss was hard, fast, and feral as he lifted her clean off the ground before Casimir shoved him back toward the piano. Casimir’s kiss was brief, but nearly scandalous in the unspoken promise behind it.
As the recessional began, I heard the opening notes of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.”
Ah, good. At least we’ll end with something normal.
Then the music changed, and I froze.
Was that Queen?
It was.
“We Will Rock You.”
I turned slowly to Zane, who was now slamming the piano keys with the force of a glam star at a concert and bellowing out the lyrics in a voice smoother than Freddie Mercury’s.
Koa roared with laughter. Casimir’s expression turned downright homicidal. Brumous howled in accompaniment. I stared into the void. And the bride?
She laughed. In utter delight. Like she couldn’t believe this was her life, and somehow it was exactly what she wanted.
In a daze, I signed the marriage certificate and handed it off to Koa, the die-declared legal husband, and waited until he autographed it.
As I quickly stuffed it into my briefcase, Zane’s fingers flew across the piano keys, his grin widening as he launched into George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex.” He winked at the bride, who obviously didn’t recognize the song, but Koa spun her around the room with a grin that could light up the darkest night.
Her laughter echoed off the walls, lilac dress swirling like a summer breeze, and Brumous bounded after them, top hat askew and barking joyfully as if he, too, were part of the dance.
Casimir dropped his head and pinched the space between his eyes, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I am beset by idiots.” But then his gaze flicked to his wife as she laughed in Koa’s arms, and something almost like a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“The photographer has arrived,” a staff member intoned from the door.
As the quartet descended upon the unaware woman, I took advantage of the distraction and fled, dress shoes snapping echoes off the Italian marble.
I did not know what in Jesus’ name I’d just witnessed, but I was certain of one thing: This woman was doomed to be adored by three monsters. And she did not seem to mind one bit.