Don't Bite the Bridesmaid

With trembling hands, she picked up the paper, and then sat down on the bed gingerly. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she opened the note.

It fluttered to the ground as she finally gave in to the tears that had pressed at her eyelids all day, clutching her hands to her chest. A few simple words, and they echoed in her mind.

I’m so sorry.

Chapter Eleven

Noah awoke to a small bit of sunshine streaming through a crack in the curtains, confused at the unfamiliar sight of the room around him. Confusion gave way to memory, and his chest tightened.

Alice had ended it. He’d kept the truth of his situation from her, and she never wanted to see him again. She’d compared him to Brent.

For a few minutes, he just laid on the bed, as if the weight on his chest wouldn’t allow him to move. Alice’s blood. God, he couldn’t imagine never tasting it again. Never making love to her again. Never watching her laugh. How could she leave him like that? How was he supposed to return to his old life after tasting the possibility of a life with Alice?

Realization hit him, and he sat up on the bed. He didn’t want to live without her. Because he loved her.

He loved Alice.

When had he fallen for her? It was almost too fast. Or was it?

They’d known each other for years, though their relationship had been casual. But he could still remember the first time they’d met, and the lasting impression she’d made on him. He’d made an effort to see her whenever possible after that. Hell, he’d never gone to a neighborhood gathering before meeting her. And after? He hadn’t missed a single one.

While that had been more of a crush than anything, the chance to spend a week with her on the boat had made his feelings shift dramatically. Because every fantasy he’d ever had about her or any other woman, she had fulfilled. They were opposites in many ways, but they meshed so perfectly in the ways that mattered.

And he had to tell her that.

Noah dressed quickly, trying to force down the hope surging through him. Just because he’d come to understand his own feelings, didn’t mean they’d make one bit of difference to her. But he had to tell her. At least he could say he was—finally—being entirely honest with her.

Bag in hand, he opened the hotel room door. Then stared at the man behind it.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Noah?” Kane asked, voice harsh. When Noah didn’t reply, Kane pushed past him. “Luckily for me, you don’t have to invite me into a hotel room.”

Noah let the door shut and then turned around to face the man who had been a father to him for so long that he could scarcely remember a time when he wasn’t.

Kane didn’t really look old enough to be Noah’s father, although he had been older when he was changed—early forties to Noah’s thirty years. And his Japanese descent would have given him away as not being a relative regardless of his age.

“Please, come in, Kanehito.” He didn’t have time for this. But one didn’t just walk away from a vampire Kane’s age without permission. And that he was Noah’s blood father—his creator—made that even truer.

“I am surprised to find you here, not on the boat with your woman.”

Kane may have lost any trace of an accent centuries before, but he wasn’t entirely modern in his speech or his way of thinking. Noah had often wondered, especially after Kane first changed him, what the man’s background had been while he was still a human. He’d almost had to have been some sort of warrior, and once Noah had pictured him as an old samurai, fully garbed in Edo period armor, he’d never shaken the image.

Not that he’d ever ask Kane. The man wasn’t much of a talker, and that went doubly for talking about himself.

“That’s not exactly—”

“Speak clearly.”

Noah flushed, annoyed the man could still make him feel like a child—two centuries after he’d become a vampire. “She found out about the wedding. She left me. But I—”

“Then you no longer have a basis to postpone the bonding? Good.”

“That’s not—”

“This is good. We’ll return to California immediately—”

“No!” Noah yelled. Getting a word in edgewise with Kane hadn’t become any easier in the decades since he’d seen the man. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going back—”

“Silence!” Kane said, raising his own voice. His jaw twitched and he eyed Noah like he’d never seen him before. “This is not a discussion. I thought that after a century on your own, you would have matured, but I see this is not the case.”

Noah took a step back. “I’m not going with you. There’s something I have to do first.”

Another twitch of Kane’s jaw muscle, and Noah almost thought he was trying not to smile. That was wishful thinking though. Kane never smiled.

“You have a duty to fulfill. You’re coming with me. Now.”

Noah tossed his bag to the ground. “I am not.”

Kane came at him so fast that his fist connected with Noah’s cheek before he even noticed his mentor moving. But he reacted immediately, stepping back out of the way of the next hit before it could land.

Kane hadn’t changed at all.

Noah ducked another punch, the air moving against his skin as the swing went wide.

Kane kicked, connecting with Noah’s stomach with his knee. Pain radiated from the strike point. Noah half stepped, half fell, back, ducking the next punch.

“Too slow, my son,” Kane said.

What felt like a baseball bat—but what was no doubt Kane’s fist—slammed into the back of Noah’s head while he was still ducking a punch. He fell to his hands and knees. The room spun, and he shook his head to clear the fog filling his vision.

Kane backed up a couple of steps, his body still defensively turned to the side, and his arms still up. But it was clear that he considered the matter settled.

Noah touched the back of his skull. Wet. He’d have been better off being hit with a crowbar.

He had to focus. Distraction during a fight would get you killed. Kane had taught him that, back when vampire factions still warred among themselves. A clear mind left more room for reaction to the fight itself. But his mind wouldn’t clear, even while facing down his blood father.

Alice.

Her face. Her laugh. The look in her eyes when she studied him. She was there with him. In his mind and in his heart. He couldn’t let her go without a fight. He had to talk to her. And no one—not even one of the toughest sons of bitches in the world—was going to stop him.

He leaped at Kane. Pain shot through his shoulder as he connected. The man was as hard as a damn rock, and while he was a couple of inches shorter than Noah’s six-foot-two, he had to have twenty pounds on Noah, and every bit of it muscle. Not that physical appearance necessarily mattered with vampires. Some simply had more strength and speed due to bloodlines, while others inherited different abilities. But he knew from experience that Kane was very, very strong.

Kane stumbled back a step, but it was enough. Noah swung and connected with the other vampire’s solar plexus to knock him off balance, then shoved him with all of his strength and desperation.

Kane flew through the hotel room wall, missing the window by less than a foot.

The third floor. He’d just sent his blood father through the wall of a third story hotel room. Quickly calculating in his head, he figured that gave him about a thirty second head start. Maybe a minute, with the sunlight raining down, given Kane’s age.

He had to get to Alice. Talk to her. Convince her somehow that he really did love her. Because if Kane caught him, he’d never get another chance. He’d gotten a lucky shot in, but he wasn’t fool enough to believe he’d beat Kane the next time.

Noah ran.

Alice tugged on the curling iron, and her sister’s hair fell into a perfect twisted curl. Surrounded by the smells of makeup and perfume and hairspray, Alice’s mood had lightened somewhat. She’d spent the night alternatively calling Noah and crying, wishing she’d done things differently and trying to sleep. Thank God for makeup, because every one of those fitful minutes had shown on her face this morning.

“Thanks for fixing that. I swear, doesn’t matter how much hair spray I use, curls always fall out. And I think the hairdresser must have used a gallon,” Cindy said.

Alice nodded and murmured appropriate noises as her sister continued to talk about her hair and dress and big day. It was nerves, and Cindy had every right to burn away some of her stress by prattling at her maid of honor on her wedding day, less than fifteen minutes before her actual wedding. But Alice, for the life of her, couldn’t keep her mind on the wedding.

It was seriously selfish, she knew that. And guilt only added fuel to her worry. She couldn’t seem to keep her mind from wandering to Noah. What was he doing now? Where was he? Was he thinking about her?

Worse, was he actually going through with the arranged marriage she’d heard him whisper about?

She’d called him, multiple times the night before. And she feared her voicemails nudged toward the double digits. But he never answered. The calls always went immediately to voicemail.

Maybe his phone was off? Would he have called her back if it wasn’t? She didn’t know.

“…and then I decided we should have hippopotamuses for flower girls. And at the reception, we’ll all wear purple, spandex one piece pantsuits that are cut low enough to show lots of cleavage and chest hair. If anyone refuses, we can shoot them,” Cindy said.

Alice stared at her sister. “What?”

“Spandex. It’s an underrated material.” Cindy laughed. “Sorry, couldn’t help messing with you, even in your sad state.”

Alice sat in the chair across from Cindy and put her face in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes, it is. Careful not to smudge your makeup.”

Alice moved her hands to her lap and stared at her sister, misery rolling through her. “I’m so sorry. This is your day. I’m such a jerk.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">