3. Protection
Chapter 3
Protection
Rancho Bautista del Murciélago—A short time late r
A fter Tig and Jayden left, Cerissa took a while to calm down and get back into the party mood of the sangeet . Karen and her other friends helped, bringing her glass after of glass of wine, trying to get her drunk enough to sing.
Their attempt didn’t work, but it cheered her up.
Once the party wound down and their guests said goodnight, Cerissa fell face first onto her king-sized four-poster bed, exhausted.
Henry cuddled next to her and tried to soothe her nerves, stroking her hair and talking softly about their honeymoon plans.
But sleep refused to come. She couldn’t stop the worry deep in her belly that the person threatening them would sneak into the wedding and try to kill Henry.
“ Mi amor , how may I help you relax?”
“Not the way you want to.” She chuckled into the pillow as he massaged her back. The crystal implanted in his wrist connected their emotions, and she could feel his lust growing.
“And what is it I’m thinking?”
“Quique, we agreed—we aren’t making love until after the ceremony.”
They’d held off for a week to make their wedding night extra special.
“We did, didn’t we?” A little sigh escaped him and he ran his fingers through her hair, pushing it aside to rub her shoulders. “Tomorrow, then, querida mia .”
The massage sent tingles of pleasure along her spine, and for a moment she reconsidered her determination to be patient. His hands on her body felt so good. But they’d waited six nights already. She could wait one more.
Turning her head to look at him, she smiled. “Tomorrow.”
Under his tender touches, she finally dozed off.
T he next afternoon, Cerissa drove to Karen and Rolf’s home to begin her transformation for the evening. She’d packed and delivered all of her bridal attire a few days earlier, and beauticians had set up in a guest bedroom to perform their magic.
The stylist wrapped Cerissa’s hair into a braided updo, and the cosmetics specialist enhanced her makeup for the wedding photoshoot. After they finished, she traipsed into Rolf’s barn, still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Ari followed, carrying a backpack, and the horses nickered as they moved past the stalls.
“Are you sure this is a good location?” she asked.
“The barn’s the best place to hide the fusion generator. I checked with Rolf. His crew is gone by now. They leave a half-hour before sunset. And none of your guests will wander out here.”
Cerissa took a moment to find Candy, whom she’d been riding when she first met Henry. The horse walked over to the wood rails and nudged her. Stroking the beautiful white blaze on Candy’s forehead, Cerissa offered a carrot. “Easy, girl.”
Candy accepted the treat without touching Cerissa’s fingers.
She gave Candy one more gentle pet and glanced over her shoulder at Ari. “Where do you want to put the device?”
He pointed to the back of the barn. “That bale of hay should work.” He unslung the backpack and removed a one-foot-tall cylinder, about six inches in diameter. “Give me a moment to set this up.”
“That’s it?”
“The fusion generator for a dome this small doesn’t have to be large.” He then took a laptop from his bag.
“If you say so.” Cerissa watched as he worked, opening a program on the laptop and selecting the dimensions and geolocation of the dome, mapping it on a grid overlaying a 3-D map of Rolf and Karen’s estate. He selected and marked other key aspects, including a portal for cars to drive through. The plan was to park everyone on Robles Road and shuttle them to the front door.
A deep boom resonated, shaking the barn’s walls, and the horses whinnied and stirred, pacing frantically in their stalls.
Cerissa spun in place, looking for the source. “What was that sound?”
“Sort of like a sonic boom. Don’t fret, it’s normal.” Ari gestured for her to leave the barn.
When she reached the circular driveway outside and looked around, she couldn’t see anything.
“Keep watching.”
Ari fiddled with something on his phone. That was when a green cross-hatched overlay outlining the dome appeared. He tossed a rock at the barrier, which struck the surface and bounced back to earth.
Her jaw dropped open, and with her head tilted back, she spun three hundred and sixty degrees, taking in the whole protective behemoth. “It’s real?”
“It’s real.”
The wedding could take place without her fearing the worst. “Thank you, Ari.”
“Anytime, Ciss.”
She waved goodbye and went inside to change into her red wedding sari with gold trim. Time to embrace the evening and forget about potential dangers lurking about. Whoever sent the stake would never reach them through the dome.
Night fell, and Cerissa peeked out the opening between the white curtains to see her friends gathering on Rolf and Karen’s lawn. The wedding overlooked the rolling hills of post-harvest vineyards, now gently washed by moonlight. The setup crew had installed a backdrop behind the rows of guest chairs to block their view of the bridal party. Soft floodlights illuminated the grassy area and twinkling lights bordered the center aisle leading to the mandapa , with its open top and four pillars wound in vibrant rose garlands embodying the four stages of life.
Excitement threaded through Cerissa and her heart beat faster as she viewed the beautiful structure. The mandapa served as a gateway to her new life with Henry and manifested their future unity and togetherness as husband and wife. It also created a sacred space, with the symbolic fire waiting to be lit in a large engraved brass brazier in the mandapa ’s center, a representation of the divine to witness their union.
Karen had done a marvelous job of choosing the wedding coordinator. The woman specialized in Hindu weddings and had selected the location, then supervised the setup of decorations and sacred objects before all the guests arrived.
Light notes of wild sage filled the air, along with the musty scent of overturned dirt from the recent grape harvest. Cerissa took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy smells, and relaxed into the moment. Then Henry walked toward the mandapa and the love she felt gutted her.
Karen patted her shoulder and handed her a tissue.
Cerissa dabbed at the happy tears flooding her eyes, trying not to smear her makeup. An effervescent shudder ran through her, and her heart swelled with happiness. She was getting married .
Before the hour was over, Henry would be her husband, and she’d be his wife.
Rolf and Karen’s estate—Shortly before the ceremony
H enry toed off his patent leather loafers, stripped off his socks, and entered from the right side of the mandapa . The strange feeling of standing barefoot in a tux, in front of sixty friends and family, was something he’d never expected to experience. But one did not enter the mandapa wearing shoes. The pillared area became a sacred space for the ceremony, and Hindus never wore shoes in sacred spaces.
Cerissa had been adamant about the tradition.
His business partner and best friend, Rolf, joined him on the groom’s side, as did Ari. Both were attired similarly in tuxes.
Father Matt waited behind the brass brazier at the back of the mandapa . Also shoeless, Henry’s friend and confessor nodded at him with a reassuring smile. The Episcopal priest’s brown hair hung straight, smoothly stopping at his strong jaw line, and he wore a closely trimmed beard. Gold wire-frame glasses outlined his eyes—he looked like a young John Lennon, but thinner. His black clerical suit included a white, stiff stand-up collar.
So here Henry stood, his rather pale feet on display, as he shifted from one foot to the other in the cool night air, eager for the wedding to get underway, and praying nothing would disrupt the ceremony. Prior to their coming out there, while still in the changing room reserved for the groomsmen, Ari had reassured him the dome protected them completely. Nothing could go wrong.
Henry sighed. Cerissa’s cousin delivered what he promised…usually.
When the musicians plucked the first strings, Henry’s pulse quickened. The light melody of “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” began. The anxious energy writhing inside him transformed and his heart thundered in anticipation of soon seeing his bride.
The bridesmaids moved much too slowly toward him. They wore royal-blue satin dresses, the color perfect on both ladies—Karen with her auburn hair in a floral-adorned bun and Anne-Louise with her salt-and-pepper locks in a marvelous curly updo. The tailor had designed each dress to the lady’s preference. Karen had chosen a backless halter dress, while Anne-Louise preferred a full bodice. Ever the peacemaker, Cerissa had hunted for a stylish shop that could custom-make those dresses. Henry smiled wistfully at the thought, grateful when the ladies finally took their place on the left side of the mandapa.
The curtains parted again, and a tan and black German shepherd stepped onto the white-papered aisle. Bear carried the rings in a backpack and gripped the handle of an overfilled basket of rose petals between his teeth. Cerissa had worked for weeks with the dog to get him to walk on his own and let nothing distract him. The oohs and aahs from the audience didn’t change his slow progression. Rose petals littered the carpet as the basket swung in the air. At one point, he stopped and turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder at the curtains, his thick black eyebrows twitching.
A slender hand shot through the curtain’s opening to make a shooing motion.
Bear resumed his slow walk and made it ninety percent of the way down the aisle before the distractions got the better of him. When he reached the front row, he changed course to sniff everyone there and collect pets.
Henry moved in the dog’s direction.
Rolf pulled him back. Descending the mandapa ’s steps, he strode to the wayward dog, leaned over to grab the short leash tucked around the backpack, and, when he straightened, brushed his dislodged blond bangs back into place, then returned to the mandapa ’s right side, giving Bear the visual cue to sit.
Much to Henry’s surprise, the dog obeyed.
Then the strings stopped. A soulful trumpet blew the overture, and the wedding march from A Midsummer Night’s Dream began. His throat tightened. This was the moment.
Radiant in red, Cerissa appeared from behind the curtain. He struggled to stop his moistened eyes from overflowing. His soul mate, his bride, his happily-ever-after, moved with grace and beauty. Wearing a red sari with gold trim, the ruby pendant he’d gifted her at their engagement party centered above her breasts, and with the heavy bangles on her henna-painted wrists, she didn’t look like a traditional Western bride, but she looked like his.
She was his.
The words, the vision, the feelings, choked him, until he swallowed past the lump and forced himself to take a breath. His chest filled with air and his lungs inflated with love. He couldn’t wait to say, I do .