Page 4

AMbrOSE

P iper is huddled in the passenger seat of my car.

She doesn’t look cold anymore, and she shouldn’t be with the heat blaring and the heated seats on, but she appears small, curled in on herself.

The color has returned to her pale skin, but her eyes keep darting all over the road, as if she’s expecting someone to jump out in front of us.

“I already got our tickets.” She checks her watch. “The flight leaves in a few hours.”

It’ll take us another hour, at least, to get to the airport.

“You can close your eyes and sleep if you want.” I tap her on the knee.

She shifts her seat to look at me. “That’s not really fair to you.”

“What do you mean?” I offer her a smile, but keep my eyes on the road. It’s still raining, and the wipers scrape across the windshield, just slightly off rhythm.

“The passenger can’t fall asleep and leave the driver to stay awake on their own. You haven’t slept, have you?”

Earlier tonight was our coven’s new moon ceremony.

It’s a time to recharge our magic and gather together.

In better times, I’m sure it’s a way for us to support each other and find community, but our coven is broken.

Even before the Tenebris and Lumen covens combined to form one coven, we were in trouble.

Now that we’re the Luminara coven, things have only gotten worse.

There’s little trust between witches who were taught to loathe those on the other side of the river.

Even with the old coven council shut away on house arrest, the distrust has only grown.

I wasn’t sleeping before Piper showed up, soaking wet on my front doorstep.

I’d only gotten home from the ceremony about an hour earlier.

And it doesn’t appear that I’ll be getting rest anytime soon.

My eyes have that gritty feeling of being open for too long, but I’m not about to pass out.

Piper looks like she needs to be distracted, though.

“Fine, talk to me then. Tell me something interesting. That’s your car tax. Keep me awake.” I laugh when she opens and shuts her mouth, huffing out a sigh.

“Nothing about me is very interesting.”

I highly doubt that. I give her a skeptical look, but she’s not paying attention. She truly believes she’s boring.

“Why were you running in the rain tonight? Tell me about that?” There was no car in my driveway when we left the chateau. Piper ran over to my house. I’m not sure from where, but her soaked clothing tells me she’d been out in the storm for a while.

A quiet, pained sound has me jerking my head toward Piper. She’s bent over, her hands digging into her thighs while her breaths saw in and out.

“Never mind. Fuck. Stop. Forget I asked.” The car swerves when I nearly drive us off the road. I keep my eyes straight ahead, my heart pounding.

“I’m sorry,” Piper pants, swiping her hand across her forehead. “Um…how about our friends? What do you think of all the fated bonds happening?” She still sounds like she’s been running, but at least she’s not convulsing in pain. It’s not the topic I would have chosen, but it’s common ground.

“I’m really happy for them.” It’s the truth. Fated bonds in the witching world always appeared to be a legend. It turns out, the only reason none of us had ever seen one in real life is because our parents, and the generations before them, all married for power instead of love.

The most incredible thing about a fated bond, besides finding the person who is your perfect match, balances your strengths and weaknesses, and is ?the light to your dark, is that a fated bond breaks the Briar Witch’s curse.

That was something we didn’t know about until our friends Josephine and Roman turned out to be magically bonded to one another.

“Do you think you’ll meet your fated bond?” Piper’s sitting up straight again, her breathing back to normal.

I snort. “No. I don’t.”

It’s not that I don’t believe in them. I’ve seen the living proof in two of my best friends, but I’m not the person who gets the happy ending.

“Me neither,” Piper murmurs.

“That surprises me. I’d take you for a romantic at heart.” I pass a vehicle going less than half the speed limit. It’s not raining that hard. Rain pounds against the windshield.

“Me?” Piper responds right away, but then thinks about it for a second. “Maybe I am a romantic, but I’m also extremely unlucky. I don’t envision a future where I get a happily ever after.”

Her words strike me. Isn’t that the same thought I just had?

“Hey, I’m the cynical one here. You’re not allowed to be practical.”

“What happens when two pragmatists get married?” Piper laughs softly.

“They have realistic expectations. That’s probably a good thing.” Especially since I still don’t understand what this marriage is about. I mull over the fact that I just told Piper I’m a cynic, and here I am, putting a whole lot of trust in her.

We time the trip to the airport perfectly, and there’s very little waiting before we board the plane.

I expect Piper to fall asleep, but she hasn’t stopped fidgeting since we left the house.

The entire car ride, she shifted around in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

As soon as we arrived at the airport, her eyes scanned the crowds as if she was waiting for cops to come arrest her.

Maybe she’s a fugitive, and that’s why she’s so anxious to get out of town.

Even when we boarded the plane, she inspected every one of the other passengers, as if searching for a specific face.

When the flight attendant came by to offer us a drink, Piper nearly jumped out of her seat.

As soon as we get off the plane, Piper power walks to the line of cabs as though the devil’s chasing her. What the hell is going on?

I can’t believe I’m in Vegas. That I didn’t fight harder to get Piper to tell me what’s going on. Or that I even agreed to this in the first place. No one has ever accused me of being an overthinker, but still, even for me, this is very impulsive.

“Is there a chapel that you can take us to?” Piper asks the cabbie as soon as we slide into the backseat.

The man has a thick bottle brush mustache that extends down to his chin.

He’s bald as a cue ball and when he grins, he reveals a tooth capped in gold.

“Are you two getting hitched? Well, congratulations. I know a real nice place for you.”

Our driver, who goes by Big Jim, gives us a rundown of the city of Vegas that would rival the best paid tour.

I doubt Piper hears a word. She scans the streets as we drive from the outskirts of Vegas into old town.

Her knee is bouncing violently, and I drop my hand onto her thigh to get her to stop. Her head spins and she stares at me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Nervous?”

“About getting married? No. Just anxious to get it over with.” She fiddles with the drawstring on her sweatshirt.

“Just what every groom loves to hear.” My hand is still on her thigh, and it flexes underneath my fingers. Piper’s breath hitches in her throat.

“I know this is a lot to ask of you.” Her face softens. There’s pain in her eyes. I don’t know the source, but I recognize the desperation.

I squeeze her thigh, and she makes a breathy little sound. “Who knows, maybe I’ll need a favor someday that requires you to jump off a crazy cliff with me. I’m going to expect you to do it, you know.”

Piper nods. “I owe you.”

I frown. That was supposed to be a joke, but Piper’s face is full of grim determination. “Well, not yet, you don’t. We have to get married first.”

Big Jim pulls up in front of a tiny white building that could be mistaken for a drive-thru coffee shop. There’s a wooden sign hanging out front with Sweethearts Chapel painted in a frilly font.

“Mabel and Bobby will take real good care of you here,” Big Jim says as he puts the car in park. Piper stares at the tiny chapel, and for the first time, she looks uncertain.

I study her face. There are dark circles under her eyes, making her look tired, but it doesn’t hide her beauty.

Piper’s mouth is lush when she’s not pressing her lips tightly together.

Her dark lashes are long and sweep against her cheeks when she blinks.

And her eyes are as blue as a clear sky.

I can’t look lower than her face or I’m going to get myself into trouble.

It’s the fear I see in her eyes as she looks at the chapel that has me speaking. “We don’t have to do this.”

Piper shivers and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Let’s go.”

A tinkling bell rings when I open the door and usher Piper inside.

The kind you expect when you walk into a shop selling knickknacks, not when moseying into somewhere that marries people.

There’s a rotund woman in her sixties standing behind a podium.

She has a head of hair that’s been sprayed into an impressive height, and a lot of pink lipstick on her mouth.

She claps her hands and gives us a bright smile as we step inside.

“Welcome. I’m Mabel and this is my chapel with my husband, Bobby. What brings the two of you here today?” She tilts her head knowingly as she asks, her smile bright as she winks at me.