Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(48)

Ryese shrugged, taking my silence for refusal. “If you change your mind . . .”

My phone rang, cutting him off as Annabella Lwin proclaimed her want for candy. Holly’s ringtone.

I shooed Ryese toward the door as I dug the phone out of my purse and answered. From the background roar of wind it was obvious wherever Holly was calling from, she was driving.

“You going to be ready in about an hour?”

Ready? I glanced at the clock. More time had passed than I thought. I had to get ready for the wedding. Hair and makeup we’d all work on together, but— “Shoes. I don’t have shoes for the wedding yet.”

“Seriously? Alex, okay, I’m turning around. I’ll be there in twenty.”

I hastily agreed before hanging up. I started toward the closet before realizing Ryese still hovered by my front door.

“Out,” I said, pointing at the door.

He lifted his hands as if surrendering, but made no move to leave. “Big day?”

I considered saying yes and leaving it at that, but if he’d read Dugan’s card he would already be reporting back that I was theoretically betrothed. He likely guessed it was to someone in another court. If the queen thought my marriage into a rival court was imminent . . . who knew what she might do.

“I’m a bridesmaid. Now leave so I can get ready.”

Ryese pursed his lips, and for a moment I thought he was going to refuse to get out of my house. Then he gave me an elaborate—and dare I say, mocking—bow complete with intricate hand flourish, before ducking out the door.

There’d been no other car in the driveway, so I wasn’t sure how he’d get back to the court, but I hoped he’d be off my porch and out of my yard before Holly arrived. In the meantime, I gathered the pathetic collection of makeup I owned, the hairpiece Tamara had given me as a bridesmaid gift, and the dress. Then I went on a mad search for panty hose.





Chapter 15





I channeled a small string of magic into the flower arrangement in front of me, activating the charm held within. The spray of chrysanthemums glimmered faintly, like a small ember had taken hold of each scarlet petal. Then I stepped back, glancing around the gazebo.

“I think that’s all of them,” I said as Holly straightened, moving away from a similar display of shimmering orange mums.

She nodded and glanced around, checking our work. Every flower in the quaint wooden structure glimmered from within. The effect was faint now with the sun still a deep orange hanging low in the sky, but once dusk hit, the glow would give the gazebo a romantically dreamy look as Tamara and Ethan exchanged their vows. Which was, of course, the point, and why Tamara had spent the last two days charming all the flowers. We may have planned this wedding in a month, but that didn’t mean she was willing to skimp on her fairy tale.

“Looks like we finished just in time,” Holly said, nodding toward the front of the gazebo.

A long red carpet ran down the wooden steps into the grass beyond. White folding chairs were set up on either side of the carpet in rows of five across. A small cluster of people were gathered behind the last row—the first wedding guests. I didn’t recognize them, so I guessed they must have been Ethan’s family or friends.

Tamara’s younger brother, who was acting as an usher for the wedding, was already striding across the grass so I felt no pressure to go greet them. I gave the decorations one last glance. Everything looked fabulous. I’d have liked to take credit for that, but Holly and I had mostly just activated the charms. Tamara, her sister, and her mom had done all the actual arranging.

“We should get back to the tent,” I said, heading down the short stairs, but neither Holly nor I hurried.

Both the bride and the groom had small pagoda-style tents so that the bridal party could get ready on-site. The tents were on opposite sides of the park so Ethan wouldn’t accidentally see his bride before her procession, and all the bridesmaids were supposed to be in the tent helping the bride. Tamara was one of my best friends, but I was seriously considering stealing off to the groom’s tent. After all, while us girls had hair and makeup, what could the groomsmen be doing? Probably talking about football and tossing back a beer while they waited. Okay, maybe not, but at least they didn’t have—

“What took you two so long?” a shrill voice asked as Holly pulled open the tent flap.

—The Mother of the Bride.

I sighed, but forced my expression to pleasant as I stepped inside. While I’d met Mrs. Greene on only a few occasions, I’d liked her in the past. Today? Not so much. Isn’t it the person actually getting married who gets the free pass to be a bridezilla? Not her mother? Granted, while Tamara’s little brother was married, she was the first girl in the family to get married. Still, the woman had been a hovering micromanager since Holly and I arrived—late, which hadn’t helped.

Mrs. Greene had curled her lips at the shoes I’d picked out, berated every color I chose for my makeup, and had finally forced me in a chair so Tamara’s sister could redo my hair. When it had been mentioned that the charms needed to be activated in the flowers, Holly and I had jumped at the opportunity to escape the tent. But now we were back.

“How’s it going?” I asked, hovering near the tent exit. That was apparently the wrong thing to say, as it opened the door for Mrs. Greene to go into a spiel about everything from the bouquets to the fit of Tamara’s dress.