My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding (10 page)

How very biker witch.

He dug a jar of what looked like pink marbles out of the bag on the back of his chair. Of course, I knew better.

“Watch this,” he said, dumping the contents into the launcher. “Fire in the hole!”

I winced as Bob pulled the trigger and fired a shot across the foyer.
 

Gasps erupted from the Greeks as it exploded in mid-air. Aunt Ophelia shrieked. Caustic smoke filtered over the room as flakes of glitter rained down. They felt cold to the touch, and—oh no—“She’s shifting!”

This was not a threat. There was no danger. But try telling that to Aunt Ophelia.
 

Claws erupted out of her hands and feet. Her tunic tore in half as a thick lion’s back emerged. Red, orange, and silver feathers cascaded down her shoulders and spine and formed wings as her bones snapped and re-formed.
 

And she grew. Huge. She was as big as a truck. Her blue eyes glowed as she turned to me and snarled.

Ant Eater stood next to me. Staring. “At least she’s still in the foyer.”

Yes. Well. “Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” she said, refusing to take her eyes off the beast.

Aunt Ophelia snarled and rose to her full height, her head clinking against a wrought-iron chandelier.
 

“Somebody stop her,” I gasped, envisioning an Aunt Ophelia-sized hole in the wall. A staircase reduced to tinder. Hillary in a dead faint.

The elder Tony scratched his chin. His other hand held a half-empty bottle of ouzo. “You want me to shift too?”

“No!” One griffin was enough. “Talk to her,” I pleaded. “Reason with her. It was just a translation spell.”

“That is unfortunate,” he said as Aunt Ophelia let out a bellow.

Oh, my God. It hadn’t really hit me until that moment. I had a house full of griffins.
 

Ophelia’s son Antonio came walking down the stairs. He did a double take when he saw his mom.

“Can you help her?” I asked him.

He winced a little as she slid her claws over the tile floors, trying to get her feet under her. “Really, Uncle Tony,” he said, “I know she’s wanted to stretch her wings, but she could have waited.”

Tony shrugged. “They scared her.”

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Antonio said, as if that were the most important thing right now.

“Thank you,” I said automatically. Aunt Ophelia wasn’t shifting back. And it’s not like we could get her out the door.

“I know you and I don’t know each other well,” Antonio said, “but if you could talk to Dyonne on my behalf, I’d really appreciate it. I mean, I’m the strongest fighter on Rhodos. I’ve trained under Master Arcas. I know you don’t know who that is, but trust me—he’s the best. I’m fluent in a dozen languages.”

And I was ready to scream.
 

It was rotten and it was wrong, but, I took Antonio by the arm. “If you can get your step mom to shift back in the next two minutes, I’ll get you a date with Dyonne.”

He broke into a grin.

“Mama!” he called. “Bee-sco!”

She swung her head from side-to-side.

“It didn’t work,” I told him.

“You will see,” he said.
 

She bent her head and began to shift.

“What did you say to her?” I asked.

He shrugged. “She wanted my cookies from the flight. You have a towel?” he asked.

I realized with a sinking feeling that she was going to be naked. Nobody needed to see that.

Luckily, Antonio seemed delighted at the idea of removing his blue dress shirt. The guy had amazing muscles. Great abs. He tossed the garment over Aunt Ophelia.

Oh well. I had to give him props for showmanship. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned that.”

“Me, too,” he said, displaying his chest, as he caught Dyonne’s eye. No doubt he was looking forward to his date.

***

By late afternoon, we managed to get all of Dimitri’s relatives assigned to rooms—not that they stayed there. The suitors were relatively under control (although I didn’t relish telling Dyonne about her date), and my mom was still in one piece.

I considered that a victory.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she said, as we stood near the long tables on the back porch, watching the caterers bring in food for the fork and knife barbecue.
 

In all fairness, the yard looked pretty good. She had small twinkling lights strung up. The witches had tapped a keg and everybody seemed to be having an okay time.

But I could feel the tension rolling off Hillary. “There’s not enough to eat. The house smells like fireworks. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were having a frat party out here.” She sighed. “I wish your father were here.”
 

“He hates noise,” I reminded her.

She gave a small grin. “Good point.”

I had to give my mom credit. She was holding up well, all things considered.
 

Although I think the griffin in the foyer would have done her in.

“We’ve got cheese and bread in the house. We have olives,” I said. Plus, Hillary always ordered too much food.

“Lonny Hard Rider trapped some rabbits,” Frieda said, handing me a cup.

“There you go,” I said, raising a glass to my mom.

So, Hillary’s fork and knife barbecue turned into more of a roast rabbits on a spit kind of event, but everybody had fun.

Well, most everybody.

I kept waiting for Dimitri to show up, hopefully in human form, and join us. But he never did.

Diana caught me walking back from the front of the house, as if looking down the road would help flush him out.

“I don’t like it,” I told her. She of all people knew what kind of trouble he’d dealt with in the past.

She frowned. Didn’t try to sugar coat it, which I appreciated. “I thought I knew what he was doing, but it shouldn’t have taken him this long.”

“Tell me,” I said.

She winced. “I shouldn’t. It’s a griffin wedding tradition and I don’t want to blow it.” She took a sip from her cup. “But I am going to talk to him about it.”

“Thanks,” I said. I needed an ally.

***

That night, a thick fog rolled in from the coast. And still, Dimitri was gone.

We’d moved the party into the kitchen, and the sitting room. And the dining room, if you counted the Koum-kan game. I was never any good at Greek rummy, but Frieda was having a great time. Then again, she seemed to be more interested in one of the cousins than she did her cards.
 

I sat in a chair in the foyer, with Pirate dead asleep on my lap. He’d been out in the garden all day. I could tell from the burrs and bits of leaves and bark I kept finding in his fur.

He stirred, growling under his breath as he dreamed. His legs churned, as if he were chasing something.
 

I jerked suddenly when I saw a shadowy form moving through the wall of cloud.
 

Pirate’s eyes flew open. “I’m on it!” he said, flipping upright and nearly falling off my lap.

“It’s fine,” I said, as my own heart thundered in my chest. It was Dimitri. I could feel him reaching out to me. It confused me for a second, how he was reaching out to me. Then I realized he must have been using my energy—our combined strength—as a beacon through the fog. No doubt he could see lights in the fog below, but…

He didn’t know how to land.

They didn’t have fog like this where he was from. I dropped Pirate on the cushioned chair. “Stay here.”

Of course, he didn’t listen.

I felt Dimitri’s harsh breath, the glide of air under his wings as he circled. “I’m coming,” I said, grabbing my switch star belt off the hall table.
 

Luckily, Pirate met up with Bob and a piece of leftover rabbit at about the same time.
 

“Don’t worry about me, Lizzie,” I heard him say as I banged out the back door of the kitchen.
 

I needed to guide him in before he impaled himself on one of the jutting iron spikes on the roof, or went crashing into a cliff.

The fog was dense, the night cool. I unhooked the Maglite from my utility belt and headed for the most open place in the garden I could think of—the herb beds.
 

I could only see about ten feet in front of me as I made my way past the box hedges and the fountain. I gave a small shudder as the laughing centaur rose up out of the mist.
 

Once I hit the lavender beds, I turned my Maglite toward the sky and began blinking it. On. Off. On. Off.
 

This is not a house light. Or a boat light.
 

It is a landing light.

A trickle of sweat snaked down my back. “Come on, babe,” I said to myself as much as to him.
 

There was nothing else I could do. I certainly couldn’t see him. I hoped this would be enough. It had to be.
 

I felt rather than saw him land. He was a little farther out, toward the rose garden maybe. I ventured a step in that direction, then another. “Dimitri?”
 

It was the most isolating feeling in the world, like standing in the middle of a cloud. It was as if I could slip off the edge into oblivion, and no one would notice until it was too late.

I almost dropped my flashlight when he walked out of the fog like every fantasy I’d had rolled up into one. He was shirtless, his pants slung low over his hips. The tips of his dark hair curled under and a slick sheen of sweat coated his body. I wanted to devour him on the spot. Dang. “If I was only a half-minute earlier.”

He shook his head and kept coming. “Would have been the best thing to happen to me all night.”

“Still could be,” I said, catching his arm as he bent down for a kiss.

The glow from my Maglite illuminated the space around us, but the rest of the world was a soft dove gray.

He drew his mouth over mine, almost making me forget my good sense.

Almost.

I nudged one well-defined pectoral. “You said you weren’t going to scare me anymore.” This was obviously a planned trip.

“Sorry,” he said, caressing my chin.

I slid my hands down his chest. He was warm, delicious. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
 

“You’re going to have to trust me,” he said softly.

Trust wasn’t a problem. Worry was.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and looked up at him. “Can I go with you?” I was good in a fight, or a negotiation. Besides, his last big secret almost destroyed his clan. He’d needed me then.

His expression softened, but he shook his head. “If I need help, I’ll let you know. It’ll be over before we leave for the honeymoon, though. I promise.”

“I can’t wait,” I told him. We needed a break, some time alone. A loud bang sounded, and a cheer went up from inside the house.

We slipped farther back into the mist-drenched garden. Alone. Unseen.

He kissed me, long and slow. I could feel the heat of his fingers through my dress, the slide of his body against mine. The scent of sage and basil surrounded us as we explored each other.

He caressed the nape of my neck as he pulled his lips back. They hovered right over mine. “You want to take a walk in the woods with me?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Good luck finding any woods.” We’d need all our luck to find the house again in this fog.

His lips bushed mine once. Twice. “Want to get lucky behind a garden bush?” I could feel the smile in his voice.

Hmm…I slid my arms around his neck. “I’m too neat and tidy.”

He laughed at that.

And then he showed me exactly how dirty I could get.

Chapter Nine

God bless Dimitri and his ability to make me forget everything but him.
 

I caressed his shoulders. How I loved his shoulders. I ran my hands down his wide chest. He was already half-undressed, which was very convenient.
 

More than that, this was the man who was always there for me, loved me.
 

His kisses were gentle, teasing, and I soaked them in like warm rain.
 

At last, I had time to savor this man. So many times in the past, we were running from imps or a demon, trying to save someone or simply trying to survive ourselves. But here…now, I had him all to myself.

We were alone. Hidden. I could finally take the time to explore every delicious inch of him, and I intended to take full advantage.

Oh, yes.

His kisses grew deeper, more insistent as I drew my hands down over his hips and slid them over the notch of muscle that defined his waist. “This is one of my favorite parts,” I said, dying to kiss it, completely unwilling to rush.

“It’s yours,” he murmured, sliding the straps of my sundress off my shoulders and drawing coursing wet kisses over my collarbone. I fisted the waist of his trousers, holding on tight as he slipped my dress down over my arms, trapping me against his chest.

“Perfect,” he said, caressing my nipples.

“I—oh!” He laved one nipple, then the other. Between his mouth, and the blanket of fog, and the heady feeling of being trapped against him, I didn’t think I’d ever felt more connected, more loved. It was us against the world and finally—finally we’d taken time for
us
.

It felt incredible to love him like this, to be with him. This is what we had been fighting for, for so long. This connection like no other. The pleasure of it washed over me until I was almost drunk with it.

I barely noticed when he slipped off my dress. I was drenched as he tore off my panties. And before I could wrap my head around it, he’d pressed me down onto the cool garden path. He kissed me long and hard as he pressed the warm, hard length of his body over me. I writhed against him, teasing us both.

“Wait.” We needed to slow down. I wanted to stay here and feel him and be with him. But his kisses and his touch, and oh God, he found the core of me with his fingers, and with it, the searing heat that scorched through me, filling me with white hot pleasure and screaming need. “Dimitri!” I rolled him onto his back, covered him with my body and with devouring, eating kisses. I ground against him, tore at his pants until he kicked them off, so he was as naked as I was.