Touch of Darkness (39 page)

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Authors: C. T. Adams,Cathy Clamp

Tags: #Romance:Paranormal

BOOK: Touch of Darkness
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Joe’s reflection joined mine in the mirror. I hadn’t heard him come in, or Mrs. Connolly leave. He looked handsome in his rented tux, a broad smile on his face and a touch of brogue in his voice. “You look lovely, Katie lass. Almost perfect.”

I arched a perfectly waxed eyebrow at that. “Only almost?”

His reflection grinned at me, his eyes sparkling. “There’s something missing.” Reaching into the pocket of his jacket he pulled out a blue velvet jewelry box, faded a little with age, the metal clasp just a little tarnished.

“Those aren’t—” I gasped.

He sighed. “No, not Mom’s pearls.” I wasn’t surprised, but tried not to be disappointed that he hadn’t managed to pry them from Aunt Anne. She wouldn’t have parted with them, or any of mother’s other things willingly. She’d felt entitled. After all, she’d been saddled with us kids for years after they died. I brushed back the bitter thought. No, this was a day for joy. I would not let it be dimmed by ancient history best forgotten.

“Tom’s grandmother insisted. Something about ‘ something old.’ They’re one of their wedding gifts to you. I had them restrung. Some of the knots were iffy.” He opened the box, gently drawing the glimmering orbs from their resting place. Stepping forward, he put them on me, fastening the clasp.

Stepping back a pace, he checked my reflection. “Now you look perfect. Are you ready?”

I nodded. My throat was suddenly tight, making it hard to talk. Despite all the trouble and fights we’d had over the years I love my big brother. He could drive me crazy one minute, then he’d go and do something like this.

“Then let’s go. Tom’s waiting.” He held out his arm and I took it, letting him lead me out of the dressing room and into the lobby of St. Patrick’s Church. Mary, Dusty, and Peg stood waiting patiently just outside the chapel doors. Each wore a bridesmaid’s gown in a slightly different color: Peg’s a pale pink that suited her fair coloring; Dusty, a dusty rose; and Mary, my matron of honor, a rich burgundy. At a signal from the usher the organist began to play, and Peg began a stately pace up the center aisle. When she reached the halfway point it was Dusty’s turn. Lastly, Mary. Only when the three of them had reached the front of the church did Joe bring me up to the doors. The wedding march began to play, the guests rising to their feet and turning to watch.

I glanced around, finding familiar faces. Some I’d expected to see. Others were a shock. Pete was in the audience. So were Leon and Leo. And on the groom’s side, in the front row, were Mr. and Mrs. Thomas.

“How?” It was a shocked whisper.

“They took the train.” Joe whispered the answer out of the corner of his mouth as we started up the aisle. My eyes went to the front of the church, seeking, and finding, Tom. He was devastatingly handsome in a cream colored tux that suited his dark coloring. But more than that, his face beamed with such pure joy that it made my heart sing to see it. He winked, and I had to work not to laugh. It would be so undignified. Eyes sparkling, he nodded toward the space in front of the altar.

As I turned to look, Father Atkins stepped aside to reveal Michael in his wheelchair, wearing his best wedding robes, the Bible laying across his lap. His expression was nervous at first, as if he were afraid that I might be unhappy with the change.

I gave him a smile. Silly, silly man. I might not love Michael the same way I had when we were teenagers, but I will always love him. He has and always will have a place in my heart as one of my dearest friends. I treasured the knowledge that he was willing to come all the way from Rome to officiate at my wedding to Tom.

“Are you okay?” Joe whispered.

“I couldn’t be happier.”

It was the truth. Every life has a few perfect moments. This was one of mine. Today I would become Mary Kathleen Reilly Bishop. The threat of the Thrall was no more, the wolves were more united than ever in their history—and had blessed our union.

I was about to start a new life with a man I adored, a baby we would raise as our own, surrounded by friends and family. What more could I ask?

What more could anyone ask?

—«»—«»—«»—

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