Chapter Thirty-Eight
Soph leaned towards the mirror, the eye-liner pencil positioned beneath her eyelid, but she stopped short of applying it; her hands were shaking too much.
“Are you ready? We’re going to be late.” Eli appeared beside her, using the mirror as he knotted his tie. Soph exhaled sharply and set the eye-liner on the bench.
“Can you get mum?” She asked. He gave her a sideways look, but left the bathroom without question. She gripped the edge of the sink to stop her shaking and stared at her reflection. Her hair sat about her face in full ringlets that bounced when she moved. Zita appeared in the doorway, her makeup and hair already done. She wore vibrant purple robes that would make her look like a quack anywhere else, but at a witch wedding would mark her as family of the bride.
“I can’t do this,” Soph admitted. Zita made a tsking sound and set her bag by the door. On both hands, she wore carrier jewellery in gold. Circling each of her fingers like knuckle dusters, the metal held various crystals that touched her skin through their settings. Her mother picked up the hairbrush and ran it through Soph’s hair, smoothing the ringlets out to waves.
“It’s going to be fine, Baby. Luie wants you there.”
Luie had called multiple times over the past few weeks, begging Soph to remain in her bridal party as the maid of honour. Initially Soph hadn’t wanted to, but with even Eli encouraging her to get out of the house, she’d caved.
“Nona will be there.”
“And she’s sworn to protect you. She’s not the one who needs the black witch powers. She has no reason to take action.”
They’d discussed this a hundred times, of course, but Soph was anxious. Unconsciously, her hand rose to rub her shoulder. Cole had continued to apply small amounts of pixie wine and her wound had slowly healed.
“It’s time to get some fresh air, Baby,” Zita coaxed, taking up the eye-liner pencil and turning Soph to face her. With steady hands, she drew black lines beneath Soph’s eyelids. “You’ve been cooped up here for weeks watching trash stories about yourself. It’s time to see some real life people.”
“And what if they stare?” Soph whispered. She remained still as Zita pencilled in her eyebrows.
“Oh, they’ll stare.”
“And what if they talk to me?”
Zita grasped Soph’s chin, forcing her daughter to meet her eye. “Then the first thing out of their mouths better be ‘thank you’ for having their damned asses while they fled that penthouse.”
Soph swallowed. “Where’s Eli?”
Zita let her go and picked up her bag again, smiling wryly. “He’s downstairs. My charged crystals make him twitchy. Anyway, Baby, I have to go. I’ve got to pick up a few things from downtown to drop off at the reception. I’ll see you there, all right?” Soph nodded and Zita gave her a kiss goodbye.
Soph stared at herself in the mirror a moment longer, then pushed off the sink and went to find Eli. He met her in the entrance hall and as soon as he saw her; he opened the door.
“We’re going to be late,” he reiterated, ushering her out.
“What if Sierra is waiting for us?”
“Then at least we’ll have an excuse for not being there on time.” he steered her towards the garage where his Audi was idling out the front. Without letting her make any more excuses, he forced her into the passenger side, then went around to the driver’s side. In seconds, they were roaring down the driveway and onto the street.
The moment they were out the gate and on the other side of the barriers that protected the mansion, Soph sank down in the seat, her chest so tight she could barely breathe. Eli squeezed her thigh, but said nothing. No predator witches jumped out of the bushes at them, and the further they got from the mansion, the less pressure she felt.
Eli eased off the accelerator, and they cruised out of the city and into the mountains. The ceremony and reception were going to be held at Grimshollow Peak, a popular spot for witch and mortal weddings. The canopy threw rays of dappled light across the road and when Eli rolled down the windows, Soph closed her eyes, letting the wind wash over her. She took a deep breath and sighed.
“Feel better?” He asked.
“Fine,” she admitted dryly. “I’m paranoid.”
“It’s understandable. You just have to try not to let it define you.”
“Easy for you to say.”
Eli smiled, then leaned over to kiss her. She shoved him away in horror. “Oh my fucking gods, Eli! Watch the road!”
He smirked, but returned his attention to the road as they ascended the mountain. Within half an hour they were pulling into the carpark at Grimshollow Gardens. It was a gorgeous spot, with rolling green lawns that overlooked both the city and the ocean. Lush, ancient forest enveloped the space on the other three sides; a reminder of the wilderness at the edge of the calm.
The first guests were arriving, and they crossed the lawns to the cliffs where an arbour adorned in wildflowers waited. The witches were easy to spot; those on the bride’s side wore various shades of purple, and those on the groom’s side were in green. Witches who weren’t family wore bright robes of any colour, and guests who didn’t have magic wore typical suits and dresses.
Eli cut the engine, and the two of them sat in silence, staring out at the forest. For the first time, Soph got the feeling that Eli was nervous about being out, too.
“Do you know where you have to go?” He asked eventually. She pointed to a white tent down by the treeline. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. “Let’s go then.”
* * *
Soph stopped in the entrance to the tent, taking in the eleven other women within; nine bridesmaids, one mother of the bride and one bride. Luie was still wearing a white shift, but the bridesmaids were already dressed in their pale gold gowns. Each was slightly different; some had lace, others had long sleeves or no sleeves at all. They all milled about, touching up each other’s makeup, drinking champagne and laughing.
The tent itself was otherworldly, with wildflowers and fairy lights hanging in bunches from the canopy, and soft white and grey furs underfoot. A table in the middle held everything from food and drinks to crystals and candles. The sides of the tent had been raised to let in air and light. Beyond, they could see guests crossing the lawn and milling in groups, but the arch was out of sight.
“Soph!” Luie spotted her first and crossed the tent, flinging her arms around her cousin. Soph returned the embrace, burying her face in Luie’s shoulder. She’d missed her cousin and her best friend. “I was starting to think you were bailing on me,” Luie pulled back to search her face.
“Me? Never,” Soph smiled, and it felt brittle. Already the other bridesmaids were whispering. Luie took her hand and tugged her into the space.
“You better get dressed, so you can get me dressed!”
Soph allowed herself to be whisked into the excited anticipation of the other women. None of them said anything to her directly about the night in the penthouse, but she felt an odd sort of reverence from them. This was the coven who had fought alongside her, whose escape she’d protected. Despite everything in the media, these women knew what had really happened at Sinister.
A few of them helped Soph into her bridesmaid dress; pale gold, almost white like the others. Hers was full length and loose fitting, with thick ties on the shoulders; a wiccan dress.
“That’s healed really well.” Luie observed, brushing her hand over Soph’s shoulder as she helped tie the dress. The wound was a pink scar now, fading every week with the help of the pixie wine. Soph nodded, and a bridesmaid handed her a crown of baby’s breath to put over her hair.
“Is Nona here yet?” Soph asked as she helped Luie into her bridal gown. Ivory white, it was quite simplistic and similar to Soph’s dress in cut. The crown the bridesmaids placed on the bride’s head, however, was something else. An explosion of wildflowers, leaves and berries, with small crystals nestled within, it set Luie apart from the others.
“Yes, she’s been here for hours, casting her spells.”
Soph grimaced, and Luie took her hand, giving her a pleading look. “Please forgive Nona, Soph. I don’t know why no one will tell me what’s happened, but she’s aged about ten years since you cut her out. She’s devastated.”
“I can’t forgive her. Ever.”
Luie shrugged, but she glanced out of the tent, searching for someone. Then she pointed. “Looks like Eli’s forgiven her.”
Soph dropped Luie’s hand and went to the edge of the tent. Nona and Eli stood together, chatting. As she watched, Eli laughed at something, and she felt her chest clench. What were they talking about?
“Blessings!” Luie’s mother announced with a clap, and the bridesmaids filed out of the other side of the tent into the forest. Soph followed, bare feet soaking up the coolness of the forest floor. The witches spread out, silent white-gold waifs flitting through the trees. Soph could hear those closest to her chanting, and she joined them; a calling to the Ethereal to bestow power and blessings on the bride on her wedding day.
The Ethereal guide her.
The Ethereal hold her.
Give her strength to protect.
Give her the Founder’s Blessing.
A soft light filtered through the forest canopy, and Luie stepped into a shaft of it, her white dress glowing. She closed her eyes, raising her hands to the light. The coven gathered in a circle around her, holding hands. They continued to chant and Soph joined them, though she was uneasy.
Three times they chanted, then they held a moment of silence, drinking in the sound of nature around them. Soph stepped forward. She knew what to do, though she felt out of place taking part in a light witch ritual. Nonetheless, she played the game. She moved towards Luie, scooping up a handful of rich, pungent dirt as she did. Luie opened her eyes and held her hands forward. Soph pressed the dirt into them.
“To ground you,” she said in a low tone, then held out her hand. A bridesmaid handed her a lit candle, and she held it over Luie’s dirty hands, dripping wax onto her palms. “To shield you.” She handed the candle back and accepted a goblet of water. She poured it over Luie’s hands, washing away the dirt and wax. “To cleanse you.” Then, heart hammering, she blew into her cousin’s hands. A white light sparked there, glowing faintly. Soph couldn’t help but grin. She hadn’t been sure it would work, being a black witch, but it had, and Luie was successfully blessed. “To guide you.” the white spark rose, zipping away through the trees.
The bridesmaids clapped and cheered, and Luie let out a little squeal of delight. “I’m getting married!”
They returned to the tent where some other witches, including Zita, were waiting in their purple robes with white cloths. They kneeled, cleaning the dirt from each of the bridesmaid’s feet as they reentered the tent.
“How did you go, Baby?” Zita asked as she helped Soph clean her feet.
“It worked,” Soph said in relief. That was the only ceremonial magic she had to perform that day. Now she could get through the rest of the wedding without worrying. The bridesmaids collected up their crystals and bouquets, preparing to head to the ceremony. A photographer was there now, and she snapped photos as the coven touched up the bride’s makeup.
“Psst!” Soph glanced at the entrance of the tent and found Eli peeking through. He waved her over.
“What are you doing?” She demanded. “Is something wrong?”
“I just wanted to see you,” he said, and his hands found her hips. “You look beautiful.”
“You were talking to Nona,” she accused. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Yes, and?”
Soph scowled. She didn’t like having to force it out of him; it made her look petty. By the humorous glint in his eye, he thought so, too.
“Well, what were you talking about?”
He shrugged, looking out to the forest. His hands were still on her hips and he drew her gently closer. “Just making arrangements. It wasn’t only Sierra she made deals with. She promised me the light witch powers at the end of this lifetime.”
Soph experienced an odd longing sensation. She wanted to hate her grandmother for the deal she’d made with Sierra, but she didn’t want her to die either. Eli nudged her, drawing her attention back to him. “Don’t worry. We didn’t make any resolute plans, just discussed some options.”
She met his eyes and the warmth he surveyed her with was so breathtaking, she couldn’t help but smile back. He brushed her hair back behind her ear, then cupped her face and kissed her.
There was a click to their left, and they broke apart to find the photographer smiling at them. “Great picture,” she said, wiggling her camera before returning to the tent. Eli watched her go with a frown.
“Twenty bucks that photo will end up on a magazine cover,” he muttered.
“What!” Soph pulled away from him, intending to find the photographer and have her delete the photo. Eli tugged her back.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her with a smile. “I’ll try to find her later for a chat. Don’t let things like that consume you today.”
“Soph!” Luie waved her over, and she bid goodbye to Eli before hurrying to the bride’s side. “Bet you’ll be getting married next,” Luie observed coyly as Soph pulled on her gold ceremony slippers. She snorted derisively.
“Doubt it. Eli’s not really the marrying type.” She checked Luie’s flower crown, ensuring it was sitting straight, then handed the bride her bouquet. Luie gave her a knowing look.
“More like you’re not the marrying type. I get the feeling Eli’s been waiting a long time for someone like you.”
Soph shook her head and gestured the other bridesmaids into line. They started across the lawns as soft flute music came to meet them. She stepped in line before Luie and, holding her bouquet before her, followed the others. Luie’s words had set her heart fluttering. Her relationship with Eli wasn’t the longest she’d ever been in, but she could see herself marrying him, walking across the grass dressed in white with wildflowers in her hair. Almost. That he had a fifty percent chance of being the person who killed her crushed her flutter like a butterfly under a boot. She drew a deep breath and blinked away tears.
They reached the edge of the ceremony, where hundreds of guests stood to watch Luie walk down the aisle. Soph glanced back quickly to see the giddy grin on her cousin’s face, then she sought Stefan.
Standing by the altar wearing a dark grey suit, the groom looked close to tears, though he wore the same goofy grin as his bride.
They reached the altar and the flute music faded out. Soph took Luie’s bouquet, and the guests sat down. She glanced out over the crowd, searching for Eli. She found him right at the back, sitting beside Zita, who had a cigarette in her fingers. He smiled at her and she blushed, drawing her gaze away. Luie’s hints at marriage were still raw. Her eyes fell instead on Nona, who sat in the front row, wearing pale lilac robes that were befitting of her matriarchal position. Nona was watching her with an unreadable expression. Soph glanced away and down at her feet.
The ceremony was long. Not only did the officiant go through the legal marriage process but also the wiccan ones. By the time Luie and Stefan had read their vows to each other, Soph’s feet were aching from standing for so long. Nonetheless, when the officiant announced the couple married, and they kissed, she cheered along with everyone else.
Afterwards, they had an hour of official photos in which Soph ensured she stood as far as possible from Nona, then finally they were let loose to enjoy themselves. The reception was in a splendid glass hall that had stunning views on every side. It was adorned similarly to the bridal tent, with wildflowers and lights hanging from the ceiling, and crystals and candles on every table. A band and DJ were set up at the far end of the hall, their backdrop the ocean, and before them was a huge dancefloor.
There was a bridal table, but thankfully it was informal and only had space for the bride and groom and their parents. The family tables were still close and Soph found her name placeholder beside Eli’s and her mother’s. Zita’s bag was hanging over one of the chairs, but neither of them were at the table. Soph stood on her tiptoes, looking over the guests to find them. She spotted Zita outside, with a cigarette as usual, but now she was with her brother - Luie’s father - and her younger sister. Zita was telling them a story, her hand with the cigarette waving. Her siblings were laughing and Soph smiled. It was good to see her mum enjoying time with her family. So often she was on the outside.
Hands landed on Soph’s waist and Eli’s breath tickled over her skin as he kissed her neck. She turned in the circle of his arms to face him, and he kissed her lips instead. She could feel him smiling.
“You’re way too happy to be here,” she told him, though she didn’t move away. In his arms, she felt a tension she didn’t know she’d been holding melt away.
“I’ve missed this.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Missed me? I’ve only been gone an hour.” He laughed, giving her a squeeze.
“No. I’ve missed this,” he gestured around the hall and all the people filling it. “Witch gatherings. The clean magic in the air from all the blessings. It’s invigorating.”
Soph’s eyebrows went even higher, and she leaned back from him to look him in the eye. “Far out, Eli. You sound depraved.”
“I am depraved. When you have more vampire powers than witch magic, you tend to run in the wrong crowds.”
Luie’s father passed by them and approached the microphone near the band. He tapped it twice, and the guests found their seats. Soph sat down on hers, glad to be off her feet.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Luca said into the microphone as the crowd fell quiet. “On behalf of my family, my mother, and my daughter - whose wedding we’re celebrating - we extend our blessings to you all.”
“By the light,” the guests murmured in response. Zita arrived at the table, slipping into the chair beside Soph.
“Hope he doesn’t talk for hours,” Zita whispered. “I’m starving!”
Soph shook her head in dismay, but pointed to where waiters moved among the tables with canapes. Zita grunted appreciatively. Soph tried to return her attention to Luca’s speech where he was now gushing about his daughter, but Eli’s hand found her leg beneath the table, fingers trailing over the soft fabric of her dress, creeping dangerously high. Soph caught her bottom lip between her teeth, training her eyes on the candles in the middle of the table to keep from groaning. His finger drew a circle at the top of her thigh, then slid downwards between her legs. She wondered if anyone would notice if they snuck out the back for a quickie.
The guests clapped, and Soph quickly clamped her hand over Eli’s, halting his progress. He smirked, but didn’t look at her. Luca gave the microphone to Stefan.
“Thanks for the warm welcome to the family, Luca,” Stefan began as the guests fell quiet again. “I must admit, marrying into the Del Monte family was a daunting prospect. The best of the best witches? I didn’t think I stood a chance.” He paused, and the crowd laughed. Eli’s fingertips resumed their exploration of her legs. “But when I asked, Luca gave his blessing right away, as did Teresa. And so here I am today, marrying the love of my life, and I’d like to thank you all for being here.” Stefan faltered and looked at Soph. With a sinking feeling, she shoved Eli’s hand away. “I’d like to thank one person in particular. You’ve probably all seen the footage from the penthouse at Sinister. Well, whatever you’ve heard or concluded about it, there are several witches in this room that were there. Luie’s cousin, Soph, was the one who held back the attacking witches on her own, giving Luie and the coven time to escape. If she hadn’t done that, well, we might not be celebrating today.”
Stefan raised his champagne glass, and the guests mimicked him. “To Soph,” he toasted.
“To Soph,” the rest chorused. Soph blushed, staring down at the table. She wished Stefan hadn’t done that. Eli’s hand found her back; this time comforting rather than teasing. She glanced at him and he gave her a slight shrug and a wry smile.
“Okay,” Stefan drew the crowd’s attention back to himself. “Nona is going to bestow a blessing, then we’ll do some dancing!”
Nona rose and went to the front of the room. A reverent hush fell over the venue. She didn’t go to the microphone, rather centred herself before the glass apex wall and bowed her head.
“We call on the Ethereal to bless this union. To carry Luisella and Stefan harmoniously through this lifetime together. Bless their children with health and strength. Bless their home with warmth and safety. Bless Luisella with the gift of light to protect her husband and bless Stefan with strength to protect his wife.”
“By the Founders,” the witches in the room responded.
The magic of the blessing permeated the air, settling over Soph like a morning dew. And yet she couldn’t help but feel bitter, and it seemed her mother felt the same.
“A shame she couldn’t extend such blessings on her other grandchildren,” Zita said savagely. Her fingers twitched towards her handbag, wanting a cigarette to take the edge off.
“Easy,” Eli cautioned under his breath. “Or she might curse you again.”
Both Zita and Soph stared at him, then dissolved into snorting laughter. Luckily, the band started up, covering their unseemly reaction to the blessing. Witches moved towards the dancefloor, forming rings around Luie.
“Come on,” Zita nudged Soph and stood.
“What? I’m not dancing.”
Zita gave her a sharp look. “Just because my mother is selective in her blessings doesn’t mean we are. Get up and dance for your damned cousin.” She took Soph’s hand, tugging her up to join the circles.
Soph looked back over her shoulder, shooting Eli a pleading look, but he was grinning, that wild warmth back in his eyes.
An earthly drumming beat struck the air and Soph took the hands of those on either side of her and moved with them, adding a quick hop step with each drum beat. They circled about Luie, changing direction at each eighth note. Nona, still at the head of the room, intoned a deep, guttural chant that carried across the entire hall, echoing off the glass walls. The drumbeats quickened until Soph was spinning in a blur. Laughter escaped her lips as the witches howled and catcalled at the bride.
Then Nona stopped, and so did the drums. The witches stilled their wild dance, arms up, eyes closed, pulling the magic from the Ethereal. And Soph could feel it in a way she never had before; a tempest of power funnelling through her fingertips, coursing through her blood and draining through her feet.
A lively flute song plucked the quiet, and the witches moved again, breaking the circle and spiralling outwards. Stefan wove through them towards his bride and those he passed ran their hands over him, calling coyly, and wolf whistling, but once he had his hands on Luie they fell back, cheering.
More men moved towards the dancefloor, seeking their partners, and as Soph twirled, she saw Eli approaching. His eyes held that feverish look, like he couldn’t help but be caught up in the magic. He stopped at her side, facing the opposite way to her, and they both raised their left hands, palms forward but not touching. They circled each other slowly, as did the other couples. The flute music was lilting, gentle like a spring day, then the drum returned, pounding through the flute music and spearing energy back into the dance. The single witches without partners trilled and whooped, sweeping through the couples tempered dances, breaking them apart, stealing the men.
Soph laughed as one of her cousins tugged away Eli and she spun, looking for someone else. She nabbed one of Stefan’s brothers as the drum stopped and the careful lilting dancing began again. Turning slowly with the brother, she looked for Eli, spotting him across the floor as the drum sped up the dance again. She darted away from Stefan’s brother, making a beeline for Eli, but Zita got there first. Soph twisted, grasping the first man she could. This time it was Stefan.
“Oh hi, Soph!” He greeted breathlessly as the drums faded and they circled slowly. “Been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“Didn’t appreciate the speech,” she told him. “You could have given me a heads up.” He grinned.
“You wouldn’t have let me do it if I gave you a heads up. Eli’s an excellent dancer. Did you teach him? Luie’s been training me for months for this one.”
“No, he’s a witch. He already knows it.”
“A witch!” Stefan’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m surprised your Nona’s not more taken with him.”
Before Soph could reply, the drum beats exploded through those of the flute and she darted away from the groom. This was the last round of the dance. She wanted to get to Eli. Dress hitched in her hand; she dodged around cooeeing witches. Eli was coming towards her, staying just out of the grasp of the women who tried to claim him. He got close, opening his arms, and Soph flew into them. The music stopped completely, and the dancefloor fell utterly still.
Eli’s forehead touched hers, and she could feel each of his breaths against her hands on his chest. His fingers pressed firmly to her back, holding her against him, and she couldn’t help but smirk. He grinned back.
Music began again, this time with the whole band playing. The witches who’d ended the last dance without partners moved to the edge of the dancefloor, forming a circle. Luie and Stefan started first, stepping out in a careful waltz. Stefan counted the steps under his breath as he moved. On the eighth beat, the other couples stepped out, joining the same waltz.
“Let’s see you keep up with this one, Witchling,” Eli teased, and he twirled her into the dance, everything around becoming a kaleidoscopic blur. She couldn’t help but laugh as she let him lead her into the night.
* * *
Soph kicked off her shoes and sighed, pulling the flower crown from her hair and throwing it onto the back seat of the car.
“I had fun,” she preempted Eli’s asking as he pulled out of the carpark and onto the road to take them back down the mountain. Fat droplets of rain splattered onto the windshield, and lightning crawled across the sky in the distance. He looked over at her, a smile on his lips, grey eyes glowing.
“Me too.”
She stretched her arms up, then settled back into the bucket seat. The dark, winding road in front of them was mesmerising, and she had to stifle a yawn. “Luie reckons you and I will get married next.”
Eli laughed. “She told me the same thing tonight.”
She sat up a little straighter. “She did? What did you say?”
He glanced over again, one eyebrow raised. “I told her you’re not the marrying type.”
She frowned. “That’s what she said to me. Why am I not the marrying type?”
They reached a crossroads, and Eli slowed to check for cars. At the same time, his phone lit up with Cole’s name. He let the car crawl to a stop before the intersection and answered the phone through the car console.
“We’re on our way home,” he said by way of greeting.
“Don’t,” Cole responded, and it sounded like he was outside. There was an odd wailing in the background. Was it the wind? “The predator witches are here.”
Eli’s jaw worked, but he remained surprisingly calm. Soph, on the other hand, felt like her heart was going to jump from her chest. “Are you okay? Is Chase there?” He asked.
“We’re fine.” Cole’s tone was as calm as Eli’s. “They’re on the other side of the barriers. Waiting.”
“All right.” Eli scrubbed his face with his palms, and Soph couldn’t comprehend how he remained so unfazed. Her hand was tight on the door handle, and she stared out the window, trying desperately to keep her scream of fear inside. The rain increased. “We’ll go to Soph’s apartment and see if we can get in and put up a new barrier. I’ll call Zita and give her a heads up. Chase, if you’re able to get out the back without them finding you, can you get to Zita? I’ll let you know where to go from there. Cole, is Sierra there?”
“I can’t see her. There’s another woman watching, though.”
“Eli?” Chase’s voice came over the speaker. “It’s the woman who staked Soph.”
“Adriana,” Soph whispered. She could barely breathe, and she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her amulet burn hot against her skin. She stared out the window, watching headlights approach from the left. Eli glanced at her as there was static from Cole’s phone.
“Ethereal.” Cole gasped. Then there was a crack like a gunshot, and the line went dead.
“Eli…” Soph warned. The approaching headlights were rocketing down the road, veering towards them. The shape of a truck loomed out of the darkness. Eli turned.
“Fuck.” He slammed the Audi into reverse, but it was too late. The truck hit them.