Chapter 1
1
Palmer
Five Weeks Later
M ost brides would be giddy with excitement on their wedding day. Then again, I mused, most brides expected the groom to attend the big event. From my vantage point draped atop one of the four leather thrones on the raised dais in the VIP section of Club Nyx, I had an undisturbed view of the entire floor. As I watched haints of all kinds mingle with human guests, I wondered, not for the first time, if I was out of my mind to do this.
The thing most people don’t understand about monsters is our overwhelming need to fit in; it is an ache we have to fill, whether it is to feed, to comfort, to fuck, or to possess. We have to seem human, so we take on disguises. Even I play a part: the eccentric, bored club owner looking for her next thrill. Club Nyx serves as a front for the Nyxian Council, providing us with a steady income and a safe place to conduct business during the day. Here, beings who need our unique brand of help come to petition us, much like Gatlin, my would-be groom, did. But at night, the lights go down and the music comes up. The darkness softens our glamours, conceals our fangs, and makes us seem more human. In the night, we blend in and try to take what we need.
Maybe if this works, I won’t have to play anymore. What an appealing thought.
The song changed, though the tempo of the thumping bass never did. I emptied my Moscow mule, my little copper cup barely reaching the tabletop beside me before somebody whisked it away and replaced it with another. My choice of drink was tame this evening. I wasn’t trying to get drunk before my bonding ceremony.
At least I looked the part, my dress extravagant. A long black lace number covered me from neck to wrist to ankle with a slit cut on either side up to my thighs. I wore patent leather stilettos with spikes along the vamp that matched the spiked cuffs at my wrist and neck. Heavy rings with skulls, ravens, and other portents of death wrapped around my fingers like silver snakes. Paired with my dark makeup, I looked like every human’s idea of a monster bride.
“He’s here, Councilwoman Duvall,” Drake, a council enforcer, whispered, his voice a silky tenor in my mind.
“Escort him up and stay close. He may be the type to deliver bad news in person,” I thought back, knowing that if my possible partner refused our contract, he would be fair game to anyone else in the club.
And he’s far too delicious; he’d be gobbled up in no time.
I smirked at the thought. I tracked Drake, watching him escort my groom-to-be across the dance floor to the VIP staircase. Gatlin Rose was dressed as if ready for a funeral, in black from head to toe with a matching black briefcase. His blond hair swept away from his face in neat style, and I itched to run my fingers through the artful curls and mess them up. His face was classically handsome, Scandinavian with icy blue eyes to match, and I felt a little flutter in my chest.
He’s an artist to boot, and I have such a weakness for artists.
“Councilwoman.” Drake bowed and departed, leaving a skittish Gatlin before me.
“Mr. Rose, welcome back to Club Nyx.” I trailed my eyes down his body appreciatively.
He was muscular, more so than I, and that was saying something. My people, the Boo Hags, were once known for our distinct musculature. Finding a man more toned than me wasn’t typical.
“It looks different at night.” He shifted nervously.
“Things often do,” I said as I rose, looking up just a bit, our heights within a few inches of one another. “Do you have something for me, Mr. Rose?”
“Gatlin,” he prompted, reaching into his briefcase, “Since we are to be… bonded, you should call me Gatlin.”
I faltered, surprised. I suppose it was that simple. “As you wish. Any questions about what we are about to do?”
“No. I talked it over with Gemma. She said it was like a handfasting,” he replied, handing me the completed contract.
“It is. For a year and a day, I will provide for you and Gemma, and you will be bonded to me as a husband would, providing me with sustenance, companionship, and anything else beyond that we mutually desire.”
He blanched. “Yes, ma’am. I went through all of the paperwork.” He was no doubt thinking of the very blunt and detailed sexual contract included within our bonding contract.
“Excellent. Gatlin?” I stepped forward, taking him by the chin and bringing his gaze down to my own. “Your consent matters. Once the handfasting is done, you are only required to keep me company and allow me to feed from your lifeforce. That is all . Anything after that must be freely chosen, and if it is not, the binding will break. Anything nefarious on your end will result in Gemma’s treatments stopping and the lifeforce expended restored to me to use as I see fit.” He stiffened under my touch, perhaps angered that I would suggest he was capable of such a thing. Then again, he didn’t know the lengths humans would go to get out of a contract with a monster. “In turn, if I do anything to you without your consent, then all of my lifeforce will be given to you, to do with what you will.”
“How will you know that someone has broken the contract?” he asked, his hand taking mine from his chin and holding it captive in his firm grip.
“The magic will know. It always knows,” I replied cryptically, not willing to debate magical dogma at this time. “And its justice is swift.” I allowed a shudder to shake my composure. He needed to know that the big bad monster feared something, and I honestly did. Magic always exacted a price. It wasn’t something to be fucked with like the human Magic Users were wont to do. The idiots.
My admission brought a different light into his eyes. He stood taller and nodded. “Alright, let's do this then.” He let go of my hand.
Curiously, I felt the loss.
“Very well, shall we?” I gestured to the double doors a few feet behind the thrones.
“Yes, ma’am.” He opened his briefcase and I returned the contract.
“We’ll need that inside.” I crossed the dais, Gatlin keeping up with my stride.
I nodded to the council enforcers on either side of the door, stopping momentarily. “Since we are to be bonded, you should call me Palmer.”
He chuckled, and I could not conceal my grin as I opened the double doors.
At the entrance of the usually sleek but functional room, Gatlin paused, most likely because it looked nothing like his last visit there. The long mahogany council table had been replaced by a shorter one draped with a white tablecloth and topped with a massive floral arrangement of peonies, roses, and carnations. Around the room, small round tables swathed in black were adorned with crystal vases displaying similar arrangements of lusciously petaled flora. A central aisle of scattered pale pink petals led to a wedding arch woven of the same white and pink flowers.
The room was packed. Guests mingled throughout the room, human and haint with a few European monsters and a sea witch thrown in. We were noticed quickly, the din of the room dying down before applause broke out.
I dipped my head to the assembly, putting my hand on Gatlin’s arm. He swayed as if to step away; my fingers flexed momentarily to halt his instinct, but he had already corrected himself. He offered his elbow to me, and I linked arms with him, walking down the aisle to the wedding arch.
Sable Oxendine, the head councilwoman, emerged from the group of well-wishers, her brown hair trimmed close to her scalp, her black tuxedo elegant. The only thing marring her elegance was the pair of enchanted sunglasses she wore out of respect for the humans in the room. After all, the stare of a Wampus cat drove humans insane.
When she halted beneath the arch, the clapping ceased immediately.
“Gatlin Rose, before we begin: the contract?” She stretched out her hand, her long black nails pointed and sharp.
He opened his briefcase, handing her his contract.
“And all has been explained?” she probed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh,” she said, her smile feline, “I do like him, Mer. Good choice.”
I made a noise of acquiescence in the back of my throat.
Sable ran her hand over the contract; a warm orange glow washed over it while she probed the contents. “Excellent, it is all in order. Let us begin!” she called to the crowd, and a cheer rose from around us.
I unthreaded my arm, taking my place beneath the greenery. Gatlin joined me, and Sable began.
“We are gathered here to witness the bonding of Merewynn Palmer Ruth Fortunato Duvall and Gatlin Keith Rose. As with our foremothers, we will bind these two souls together for a year and a day, knowing that the heart is dynamic and changing. They pledge to honor the commitments discussed in the binding contract that they both signed.” She again swiped her hand over the contract, drawing from it a cord of pale pink energy held tightly in her hand. The agreement was then passed to Councilman Attwater, a slick-haired, smarmy individual, to be copied and returned later. “You will now make six vows before me and those here who bear witness. I will ask each of you separately to voice your commitment. Once you have both avowed, we will move to the next oath. Please take her left hand with your right, Gatlin, and cradle it with your free hand until the binding is complete.”
I held my hands out, an eternity stretching between the time she gave the instructions and him taking my hands in his. Sable wrapped the first of many cords around our hands, and the energy stuck quickly to our skin. I watched the current glowing innocently against our flesh, suddenly unwilling to meet Gatlin’s gaze.
Sable began. “Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Palmer against her pain, actively working to protect her from it and alleviate it?”
“I will,” he said, his voice steady.
“Palmer, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Gatlin against his pain, actively working to protect him from it and alleviate it?”
“I will,” I echoed, as sure as he did.
“Then let the binding be so.” Sable’s voice reverberated, the first of six vows taking root in the very fabric of our world, creating a strand of pale blue light taken from the Ether itself, twining it around our hands.
Sable continued. “Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Palmer to share in her happiness, taking the time each day to look for the joy within her spirit always?”
“I will.”
“Palmer, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Gatlin to share in his happiness, taking the time each day to look for the joy within his spirit always?”
“I will.” The words created another strand of energy, this one yellow.
“Then let the binding be so.” Sable took the strand and joined it with the others, “Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Palmer to share in her trials so that your souls may grow and strengthen together?”
“I will,” he replied.
“Palmer, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Gatlin to share in his trials so that your souls may grow and strengthen together?”
“I will.”
“Then let the binding be so.” This time, she gathered a gray strand of essence and bound it with the others around our hands.
“Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Palmer to share in her dreams so they may be brought to fruition?”
“I will.”
“Palmer, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you partner with Gatlin to share in his dreams so they may be brought to fruition?”
“I will.”
“Then let the binding be so.” Sable gathered a cyan strand and placed it upon our joined hands.
“Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you use your anger to fortify the growing bond between you and Palmer?”
“I will.”
“Palmer, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you use your anger to fortify the growing bond between you and Gatlin?”
“I will.”
“Then let the binding be so.” A strand of red energy formed and snaked around our hands, the energy knowing where it needed to go.
“Gatlin, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you revere Palmer and esteem her as an equal in this bond?”
“I will.”
“Palmer, from this day forward, a year and a day, will you revere Gatlin and esteem him as an equal in this bond?”
“I will.”
“Then let the binding be so.” Sable placed her hands above the writhing energy, the strands of power weaving together tightly.
The sounds of the world around us were silenced as the energy wrapped around our hands pulsated and absorbed into our skin. I looked from our hands to Gatlin’s face, his bright blue eyes glowing from the current of magic he just absorbed. I couldn’t quite understand the look in his eyes, and I took a step forward without meaning to, drawn in by the moment.
With an audible pop, the sound returned, and I blinked, stepping back. I squeezed his hands before letting go, turned, and smiled at our guests.
“And so we are bound,” I spoke.
“And so we are bound,” he replied.