Page 14

14

T ess

Saturday: Wedding minus 7 days

Fifteen minutes till midnight

T his time, Viviette didn’t bother with any ceremony at all. She popped in with her retinue, pointed at a warrior who held two scary-looking swords, and then pointed at Carlos, who had flatly refused to let me try my gift on him.

“It’s you, night walker?”

He bowed elegantly. “It’s me.”

I rolled my eyes. Since he was the only Dead Ender carrying swords, who else would it be? But smarting off to a Fae queen—especially this one—wasn’t the best idea, as Jack’s granddad could attest.

“ En garde,” the Fae called out, raising one sword and sheathing the other on his back.

Carlos did the same and advanced toward his opponent.

For almost two long minutes, the fight progressed like a stylized fencing exhibition. Swords flashed with inhuman speed and grace, clashing against each other with the ring of steel on steel. Flickers of sparks danced through the night air when the swords met. The two of them locked their eyes on each other, almost never blinking. Watching for any sign of weakness or fatigue.

Then, suddenly, everything changed. The battle intensified; shifted from a dance to a brawl. Their steps quickened, their rhythm pounding through every moment.

“This is not good,” Jack whispered so softly I barely heard it. “Carlos is good, but he’s not that good.”

I hated to admit it, but I saw it, too. Carlos was tiring. He faltered, and the next strike pushed past his guard and sliced his arm. He parried, but too slowly. When the Fae drove forward again, Carlos seemed to get a second wind. He leaped through the air, somersaulting over his opponent.

But the Fae had expected that. He whirled around and drove his sword into Carlos’s side, and my neighbor—my friend—grunted in pain. Then, clutching his side with one hand, Carlos fell back. He kept his eyes on the Fae, but he was fading. Blood dripped from his arm and, profusely, from his side.

Susan made a sound but kept her lips clamped together to keep from distracting her brother. I reached out without looking and grabbed her hand, holding on tight, as we watched the Fae, sporting a smug smile, advance on Carlos, step by confident step.

“Sadly, the battle is not to the death,” the Fae said, regret plain on his face. “Only to the defeat or surrender of one opponent. Yield, vampire.”

Carlos, unbelievably, grinned. “That’s Mr. Vampire to you.”

And then he ripped his torn and bleeding shirt off, right there in town square, and tossed it on the ground. “You said something about yielding?”

In a burst of explosive motion, the fight was back on, but this was a whole new game. Where before, Carlos had acted just a touch slow, just a touch weak, now he showed the Fae and all of Dead End how powerful he really was.

“He’s as dangerous as Jack,” Susan breathed. “I mean, I knew he was a vampire. But you never think about your big brother turning into a lethal weapon.”

The Fae did his best. I’ll give him that.

But Carlos put him down on the ground, a blade at his throat, in less than ninety seconds.

“I yield,” the Fae growled, after he’d tried to shove Carlos’s sword away, only to find it digging deeper.

Carlos immediately offered his hand to help the Fae to his feet. Then he stepped away and bowed to his opponent and then to the queen.

“Tomorrow, we will see,” Viviette gritted out from between clenched jaws. “My Champion has played chess against kings and queens, emperors and grandmasters. You will have no chance.”

In the blink of an eye, they all disappeared.

I shrugged. “Uncle Mike plays against the guy who delivers his horse feed. I’m not too worried.”

Susan rushed to Carlos to make sure he was all right, and then the two of them made their way back to us. All around us, Dead Enders were cheering and calling out, “He may be a vampire, but he’s our vampire!” and “Way to go, Carlos!”

And, from a woman who smiled at Carlos and touched her throat, “Need a snack?”

“My fans demand my presence,” Carlos said, grinning.

“That was very, very good,” Jack said sincerely. “Nice job, pretending to be weakening.”

Carlos’s smile faded. “I wasn’t pretending. It was touch and go for a minute there. But I wasn’t about to be the one who let Dead End down.”

“Did the extra supplies help?” Susan asked, pressing a cloth against her brother’s side.

He laughed. “Yes, Marvin drove the blood bank donations bus to the house and dropped off several pints. He thought it was pretty funny to be delivering instead of collecting.”

“Good job pinning her down, Tess,” Lorraine said, joining us.

I realized I was surprised she hadn’t been with us before. Lorraine was usually front and center in any dangerous situation that affected Dead End.

She must have caught my puzzled look, because she grinned. “Mike and Ruby and their rifles are up in her office. Who do you think was up on the second floor of the bank watching this side of the square?”

Now it made sense.

“Tomorrow, chess.”

“After church,” Lorraine said firmly. “We have wedding stuff to discuss with Pastor Nash.”

“Couldn’t we?—”

“No.”

“But what if?—”

“No.”

I sighed and gave in. Wedding preparations wouldn’t be held up by such minor problems as battle challenges, charter renewals, or anything else.

“Wait till you see your flower girl dresses,” I said with an evil smile

Lorraine’s smile faded, bit by bit.

“See you tomorrow!”

“That was evil,” Jack said, laughing, as we drove home.

“I know.”

“Do you have the dresses yet?”

“No. Molly is bringing them with her. She has mine, too.”

“Are they horrible? The flower girl dresses?”

I stared at him. “Do you think I could show my face at Sunday dinner if I made Eleanor, Lorraine, and Aunt Ruby wear horrible dresses?”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

I grinned. “I know.”