Mother May I (Knight Games Book 4) (25 page)

“I find it humorous that I loved you even before I remembered you.”

“What made you think of that?”

He unfolded his arms and held out his right fist, then slowly unraveled his fingers.

“My ring!” The platinum setting with it’s blue cushion of gemstones winked in the sunlight.

“I noticed it in the silver pan when we were escaping Julius’s safehouse. I remembered it on your finger, and I took it with me.”

“And you didn’t think to give it back to me until now?”

“Oh, I thought about it quite a lot. But when I gave it back to you, I wanted it to mean something. Like now.”

Rick lowered himself to one knee in front of me. “Grateful Knight, will you marry me, again?”

I held out my hand and allowed him to slide the antique ring onto my finger where it belonged. “You’d better believe it. Only, this time, I’m not leaving anything to chance.”

“No?” He grinned, still holding my hand.

“No. When we get home, you’re moving in with me, and I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not for a very long time.”

He stood, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not worried about my earth element tempering your magic?”

It was an old excuse. One I’d used over multiple lifetimes. If it were true, it was only mildly so. However, I was pretty sure it was just something I’d said, a way to preserve a last bit of independence, to not give myself fully to him. I was done with considering past reservations. I loved him with my whole heart, soul, and mind, and I would be with him.

“Not worried at all,” I said.

He swept me up in his arms and spun me around to Poe’s cheers and Logan’s slow applause. Then we climbed into the hearse, and we headed for home.

* * * * *

“So, you actually became a goddess?” Michelle peered skeptically over her coffee at me.

“I did. I smote an entire legion of goblins with a flick of my finger.” It was actually a pulse of my open arms, but, hey, my story to tell.

“And you turned all that down for Red Grove, New Hampshire?”

I took a sip of my cappuccino and glanced toward the door of Valentine’s. It was early morning on a sunny day—a gorgeous day full of hope and potential. “Let me put it this way. Imagine that NASA tapped you on the shoulder and asked you if you’d like to be the next astronaut to go into space.”

“Hell yeah!” Michelle said, pumping her arms above her head.

“Wait. There’s a catch. It’s a one-way ticket. You have to say goodbye to everyone you’ve ever loved. Manny, the baby, all your friends. You will be in a suspended state for eternity, while each of them lives out their lives and dies back here. Would you do it?”

“Of course not,” Michelle said. “But that’s not how it would have been. If you were a goddess you could’ve gone wherever you wanted. You could’ve visited. And Rick’s an immortal. You could’ve been with him forever.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s hard to explain, but I wouldn’t have been me anymore. I wouldn’t have had a life; I’d have an existence. I didn’t want that.”

“What was it like?”

I chewed my lip trying to think of ways to explain it. “It was like the first time you ever saw the ocean, times a billion.”

She stared at me until the silence was awkward. “Now that you’re human again, how’s the living together business going?”

“Perfect. Not that different actually. I’m looking forward to the marriage business.”

“Have you set the date?”

“Noon on July 21—the summer solstice. Can you wear the bridesmaid’s dress one more time?”

“Are you kidding? I live for that shit, but I thought you wanted to be married on the spring equinox, because of its association with new beginnings.”

“Yeah, funny thing, I hadn’t realized that my element, air, was also called wind or fire, depending on what culture you’re from. Turns out it is highly associated with summer. So, the summer solstice brings renewal for me. Isn’t that weird?”

“It’s in less than a month.”

I shrugged. “These things practically organize themselves.”

“When you can wave your magic wand.”

“It does have its perks.”

Michelle leaned back in the booth and looked at her watch solemnly. “I gotta go. Shift starts in ten.”

“Say hi to everyone for me.” I tried not to look too disappointed not to be going to work with her.

She stood and rounded the table to give me a hug. “I love you, Grateful. I’m glad you didn’t leave us for infinite power and immortality.”

“Me too.”

* * * * *

We didn’t bother with invitations. We called the people who mattered and told them about our short-order wedding. They lined the pews, smiling at me as I waited at the back of the church. Logan, Michelle’s family, the nurses I used to work with, townsfolk from Red Grove who Rick had formed relationships with over the years, and even Poe and Hildegard, who sat inconspicuously in an open window, waited for Rick and me to make it official. It was a small group but an important one—all we needed to help us welcome in our new marriage.

“It’s time,” my father whispered in my ear. I hadn’t even noticed that the pianist had begun my processional. I was distracted by the man at the end of the aisle who was obviously distracted with me. Rick.

Step by painfully slow step, I made my way to him. My father kissed me and a rush of surety came over me. I was certain down to my soul this was where I belonged. I had loved Rick from the beginning, maybe from the first moment we saw each other, and I would love him forever and the forever after that.

The pastor began the ceremony and this time, nothing stopped us from saying our vows.

“Grateful,

Today, I take you as my wife, to love in this life and the next.

A single lifetime is a cup too shallow to hold the abundance of my love for you.

I bind myself to you today and always,

And will never leave or forsake you from this day forth.”

He slid the blue diamond ring I’d worn on my right hand onto my left.

“Enrique Ordenez,

Today, I take you as my husband,

As my beginning and my end.

I bind myself to you, heart, mind, and soul.

I will walk by your side until the mountains crumble and the seas turn to dust.

And will be true to you until death takes me.”

I slid a thick platinum band on his finger. At that moment, he was my entire universe. I didn’t hear how the pastor finished the ceremony, hardly noticed the applause, but when Rick kissed me, there was no doubt that our marriage went far beyond this world. We were bound, connected permanently, our lives and hearts interwoven.

When we finally pulled apart, for a moment, just a fraction of a second, I thought I saw my mother, Hecate. At the back of the church, she smiled at me, her hand over her heart in silent blessing. And then she was gone.

* * * * *

After the ceremony, we gathered at the Gilded Rooster, which was the only reception hall available on short notice. Logan had offered to bump the couple who had booked Valentine’s, but it seemed a cruel thing to do to someone. I’d declined his offer to his obvious relief.

We dined on rubbery chicken, fed each other dry chocolate cake, and laughed with our guests as the wine flowed. We kissed when bored attendees clinked their glasses with their forks. And just after sunset, a buck-toothed boy with a bad haircut announced the first dance of Rick and Grateful Knight. He’d decided to take my name, a final way of joining me in this time, in this life. It made me feel like I was his and he was mine.

The music changed and my father cut in for the father-daughter dance. “I think your mother would be proud,” he said. He meant my biological mother, but the comment made me think of Hecate.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“I’m proud too.”

I laughed. “You’re proud that your daughter is an out-of-work witch?”

He shook his head. “I’m proud that my daughter is a good person who knows how to love someone.”

“Oh, Dad,” I said, pulling him into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, is it too early to talk about grandchildren?”

I rolled my eyes and slapped him on the shoulder. “Only if you want to keep talking.”

The song ended, and I searched the room for Rick. My gaze caught on a figure waiting in the shadows just inside the sliding glass door that led to the patio. Julius.

“Excuse me, Dad.” I squeezed his hand. “I see an old friend and want to say hello.”

“Go ahead.” He kissed me on the cheek and returned to his table.

I crossed through the other guests and greeted the vampire.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Knight.” Julius flashed a little fang and bowed at the waist.

“Thanks. You know, if you keep acting like a friend to me, I might suspect our bond is still intact.”

He shook his head. “No. I assure you I am free and exercising that freedom quite regularly.” He touched the tip of his fang with his tongue and leaned his back against the wall. “Grateful, there are few people in this existence I can call friends. Would I be wrong to think you are one of them?”

I theatrically swayed my head back and forth on my shoulders. “No. Not wrong. We’re friends.”

“Good, because I have a wedding gift for you.” He handed me a business-sized envelope.

I ripped into it and unfolded a letter. “It’s from the Human Resources manager at St. John’s. They are reinstating me at the hospital and apologize for the misunderstanding.” I held out the paper and stared at him with wide eyes. “You got me my job back.”

“A few… conversations and they couldn’t refuse. They need you there, after all. Not enough good nurses these days. Even fewer who can treat the supernatural population in Carlton City.”

In shock, I reread the letter several times. It was real. I was a nurse again. A rush of joy overtook me, and I tossed my arms around Julius, pressing my lips to his cheek.

“Thank you,” I said, pulling away.

He shrugged, but a hint of a smile turned his mouth.

“I think they have scotch at the bar,” I said, pointing a thumb behind me.

A human waitress in a short gingham dress passed behind me with a tray of empty glasses. He inhaled deeply. “I love barbeque, don’t you?”

“Not without her consent,” I whispered, but judging by the look-over the waitress gave Julius as he left my side, I didn’t think he’d have a problem.

I searched the room for Michelle, holding up the letter in my hand. I couldn’t wait to tell her the good news.

Chapter 32

The Fine Print

“I
remember this dress.” Rick’s finger trailed the row of buttons down my back, from my neck to the base of my spine.

“You couldn’t possibly. It was designed just last year.” I glanced over my shoulder at him, oddly nervous. We were in our bedroom, in the house that used to be mine but was now ours. Although we’d spent every night together since we’d returned from the West Coast, somehow this was different. Our first night as husband and wife.

“Let me see the tag.” His fingers worked button after button, brushing his knuckles along my back and leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Ah, here it is. Made with recycled vintage lace.”

“Are you suggesting that by some miracle, the lace of my original wedding gown from the 1700s ended up on the wedding dress I’m wearing today?”

“I am not suggesting it,
mi cielo
. I know for sure. I remember.”

I pivoted in his arms and reached up to work the knot from his bow tie. “I picked the right one then,” I mumbled. The tie came loose in my fingers and I started in on his shirt buttons.

“Are you nervous?” He wrapped my hands in his, stopping my progress.

“Why would I be?”

“I do not know the why of it. Your heart beats faster, and I sense a wisp of fear in you.”

I laughed through my nose. “I guess the downfall of sharing a metaphysical connection with you is that it will be hard to keep a secret.”

“Yes. So, tell me why you are afraid.”

“I have a wedding gift for you, but I’m not sure what you’ll think of it.”

He frowned at me. “I thought we agreed not to exchange gifts.”

“We did.”

Rick had wanted to buy me a vacation home as a gift, but it seemed too extravagant given my employment status at the time, not to mention I couldn’t give him a suitable gift in return. “This isn’t that type of gift. It’s something I made for you, before you remembered me. Something I made just in case.”

He took a step back and spread his hands. “Show me this gift.”

I crossed the room to my dresser and dug in my underwear drawer until I found a box. I’d wrapped it in silver paper and tied it with an orchid-colored bow that matched our wedding colors.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it. We don’t have to ever use them.”

He stripped off his jacket and dress shirt and laid them across the chair before taking the box from me. He judged its weight in his hand as if trying to guess what it was, and then gave me a wicked half smile before starting in on the bow.

“It’s funny,” I said, while he worked on the knot, “facing death made me cherish life. My mother has a different sort of life in her place guarding the door to the underworld. She’s powerful, but I think she’s also lonely.”

He tore off the wrapping paper, exposing the white box underneath and worked his fingers under the lid.

“I like being alive. Our life is risky. Our marriage is risky. Sometimes bad things are going to happen. But I think it’s worth it,” I said.

“Candles?” He looked at the six dark purple tapers in his hand in confusion.

“While I still had Tabetha’s grimoire and her power, I reproduced her humanity spell.”

“You want me to become human again?”

“Only for a night, now and then.”

He stared at the candles, eyebrows converging over his nose. All at once, his face went slack. “You want to try for a baby?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight or even this year. I just made them to give us options.”

“I thought we decided having a human child would be too dangerous, too fragile.”