“Come on,” he said with a grin, “we don’t want to be late.”
“Late?” she asked, smiling. “Late for what?”
“Pete and Francine are getting married.”
Shannah blinked at him. “Married?” Vampires getting married. It was something she had never contemplated.
Ronan nodded, his expression rueful. “I can’t believe it, either, but they want us to be their witnesses.”
“Do a lot of vampires get married?”
“Not often, but it happens.”
“Do they always marry other vampires?”
His gaze rested on her face. “Not always.”
Shannah frowned. Ronan had been a vampire for over five hundred years. What if he married a vampire and they lived another five hundred years? Could any relationship possibly survive that long? Talk about being in love forever! She shook her head. Could any marriage, even the most sublime, endure for five centuries?
“Come on, love.”
Laughing, she dropped her winnings into her purse and followed Ronan out of the casino.
Taking her by the hand, he led the way down the street to a small white chapel.
Pete and Francine were waiting inside, along with Xavier, Domini, and Cleo. Pete wore a black tuxedo with a red bow tie and a matching cummerbund, Francine wore a slinky red dress that was slit up the sides, matching stiletto heels, and a red hat with a short veil.
“I’m glad you two could make it,” Pete said as they entered the foyer. “Tonio and Michal had to work the late shift tonight.”
“This is kind of sudden, isn’t it?” Ronan asked, shaking the groom’s hand.
“We had the night off and nothing to do,” Pete said with a shrug. “I’ve never been married before and neither has Francine, so we thought, hey, why not give it a try for a hundred years or so and see how it works out.”
A hundred years or so, Shannah thought. Most people didn’t even live that long, yet Pete and Francine were going to spend a century or so seeing how they liked being married because it was their night off and they had nothing better to do.
Xavier snorted softly. “You will probably be tired of each other after the first fifty years.”
Shannah stared at the vampires, thinking that they were making a mockery of something that was sacred. Her great grandparents had been married for sixty-two years. She had always hoped to have a marriage as strong and lasting as theirs had been, but that wouldn’t happen now.
She stood beside Ronan, her hand in his, while Pete and Francine were united in marriage by a red-haired man wearing a gold Elvis Presley jumpsuit.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister said in a strong, obviously fake Southern drawl. “You can kiss her now, son, she’s all yours.”
Pete kissed Francine, then swept her into his arms. “We’ll celebrate tomorrow night,” he said, addressing his guests. “Right now, I want to be alone with my bride until the sun comes up.”
Cleo laughed. Xavier patted Pete on the back.
Ronan wished Pete and Francine well, bade Cleo, Domini, and Xavier good night, and then took Shannah by the hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s go, love,” he said quietly.
Hand in hand, they walked back toward the bright lights of the casino.
“Something’s troubling you,” Ronan remarked while they waited for the street light to change.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She raised one shoulder and let it fall. “It’s just that, well, I always thought marriage was special. I know it doesn’t seem to mean much anymore. Celebrities change husbands like they change their underwear. Some of their marriages don’t even last a day! And Pete and Francine…” She shook her head. “They’re getting married because they didn’t have anything else to do tonight. It should mean more than that. People should be in love when they get married. It should mean something, a lifetime commitment. They talk about trying it out for a hundred years. I…” She blinked lest he see her tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run on like that.”
“No harm done, love.”
“I wish…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Stepping into the darkness between two buildings, Ronan pulled her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Holding you.”
She stared up at him and then she leaned into him, her cheek resting on his chest.
“I always wanted a big wedding,” she whispered. “I used to cut out pictures of wedding dresses when I was a little girl and I had a collection of bride dolls…and now…” There would be no long white dress, no honeymoon, no children. She sniffed back her tears. Crying wouldn’t change anything.
Ronan held her close while she cried, one hand stroking her back. He felt her pain and her anger, sensed the illness that was lying in wait to steal her away from him.
She would need his blood before the night was through.
He waited until she was in bed, asleep, before he went in to her. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he spoke softly to her mind. When he held his wrist to her lips, she roused enough to take what she needed before sleep claimed her once more.
Feeling restless, he went out into the night. He hadn’t gone far when Valerie materialized beside him.
“Do you mind if I walk with you?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
“You have been here a week,” she said, slipping her arm through his, “and you have not yet come to see me again.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“With your little mortal?”
“Uh-huh.”
“She hasn’t long to live, has she?”
He shook his head. None of the other vampires had detected Shannah’s illness but nothing got by Valerie.
She ran her fingernails lightly over his forearm. “Are you going to bring her across?”
“I don’t know.”
“Have you discussed it with her?”
“She’s against it. The funny thing is, I met her because she wanted to be a vampire, or she thought she did. Once she found out it was possible, she changed her mind.”
“Mortals,” Valerie said disdainfully. “I’m surprised they’ve survived as long as they have.”
He laughed softly. Like many ancient vampires, Valerie had conveniently forgotten that she had once been mortal herself.
“It’s a good thing for us that they have,” Ronan replied dryly.
“So true,” Valerie said with a grin. “You care deeply for this girl, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Valerie looked up at him, her gaze probing his. “You’re in love with her.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.
“I’m afraid so.”
“I warned you years ago not to get involved with mortals,” Valerie said. “No good ever comes of it. If you turn her into a vampire, she’ll tire of you sooner or later and strike out on her own. If you don’t bring her across, she’ll die. Either way, you’ll lose her.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I know you’re right.”
“But it doesn’t change anything, does it?”
“No,” Ronan said with a bitter laugh. “It doesn’t change a thing.”
“I’m going out for a midnight snack,” Valerie said. “Will you join me?”
“Maybe another time.”
“As you wish,” she said, and vanished from his sight.
Returning to the hotel, Ronan went up to Shannah’s room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stroked the curve of her cheek, reveling in the warmth and softness of her skin. He ran his fingers through the rich fall of her hair, breathed in the all too human scent of her. She was lovely, more lovely than any woman he had ever known. But it wasn’t her appearance that enthralled him. It was the sweetness of her spirit, the warmth of her smile, her trust.
He sat at her side until dawn’s first light brightened the sky, and then he went in search of his own resting place, impatient for the coming night when he could see her again.
It was late afternoon when Shannah woke. Yawning, she sat up, squinting against the sunlight pouring into the room. Rising, she drew the drapes across the window, shutting out the light.
Ronan couldn’t abide the sun. Was she becoming a vampire? Was that why the sun’s light hurt her eyes, why she slept so late? Was he turning her into what he was against her will?
He had given her his blood last night. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. How much longer would he be able to keep her alive? She felt good this morning, yet she lacked the abundance of energy she usually felt after she had taken his blood. Did that mean it was losing its effectiveness, or that the end was near and nothing could stop it? She shivered, suddenly cold all over.
Sooner or later, his blood would stop being effective.
Sooner or later she would have to decide between being what he was, or not being at all.
Shaking off her dismal thoughts, she wondered how the newlyweds were doing and then wondered, with a morbid grin, where they were spending the day. Did they have a double casket? Were they sharing the same one? Or had they just pushed their old ones close together, like twin beds? The thought gave her the creeps.
Feeling tired in spite of the fact that she had just gotten out of bed, she called room service and ordered something to eat.
After breakfast, she combed her hair and brushed her teeth and then decided she just didn’t have the energy or the desire to get dressed and go out.
Still wearing her nightgown, she curled up in a chair. She read one of Ronan’s books for a while, then turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until she found a movie she wanted to watch.
Ronan found her curled up in the chair when he entered the room shortly before sundown. Her nightgown was black; long and flowing, it kept her modesty intact and managed to be sexy at the same time.
