Page 13 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding

“I don’t know,” Lucy said, head tilted to the side as she inspected Victor as he came out of the dressing room. “Is it trying too hard?” She eyed the black suit he was wearing. With a black shirt under. And a black tie. “Does he look like he’s cosplaying a creature of the night?” she said musingly.

Pandora’s eyes bugged out at that, but Lucy ignored her as Victor let out a small huff of a laugh.

“It is very dark,” he said, glancing down his reflection.

“Here.” Lucy jumped up to pass him trousers and a smart button-down shirt. No jacket, no tie. “Try this instead,” she said, pushing Victor back toward the dressing room.

“Easy with the vampire stuff,” Pandora whispered to her.

“Victor thought it was funny,” Lucy said.

“It won’t be funny when he’s got vampires on the brain and then meets my family full of them.”

“His thesis is on vampires. They’re always on his brain,” Lucy said. “I just think this will go better if it doesn’t look like he’s trying to emulate them, y’know? That he shows up as himself. It will make him more comfortable. And that’s better for the both of you.”

That was fair.

Pandora was already having daily panic attacks at the idea of Victor meeting her parents.

Would they remember not to serve blood? To actually serve food if it was a dinner party?

It had been so long since they’d been human that she was terrified they wouldn’t be able to fake it even halfway believably.

She’d forgotten to mention it to them.

And now it was too late.

They’d all been kind of tiptoeing around one another since the announcement. It should have eased some of Pandora’s nerves. But it was having the opposite effect.

Now, she was overthinking every little thing.

Hence sitting in the men’s department with Lucy just an hour before they were due to show up at her parents’ house for the official introductions.

She was overthinking everything .

“I’m less concerned with what he’s wearing,” Lucy said, gaze moving over Pandora. “And more concerned with you. This is what you wear to introduce your fiancé to your parents?” She shook her head at Pandora’s casual jeans-and-sweater ensemble.

“They’re my parents. I’m not trying to impress them.”

“No, but you need to sell this, right? And I think a real woman who was recently engaged would be all excited and dressed up to reflect that.”

New anxiety unlocked, Pandora pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

“Your heart doesn’t beat,” Lucy said, laughing.

“Then why is my chest so tight?” Pandora asked, hunching forward to try to ease it. “I can’t … breathe.”

“You don’t breathe.”

“That’s not helpful,” Pandora said miserably just as the dressing-room door opened.

Lucy nodded. “Oh, that’s the look.”

“Are you OK?” Victor asked, and Pandora could feel his gaze on her.

“She’s a little nervous,” Lucy answered for her. “I’m going to go pick out something more appropriate for her to wear. You two have a little chat,” she said, completely ignoring Pandora’s pleading eyes, begging her not to leave.

“What are you so worried about?” Victor asked, sitting next to her in his ultra-starched new outfit.

That her parents would serve blood. That they’d say something careless like “humans” or “mortals”. That they’d ask him inappropriate questions. That her mother would sniff out the lie.

“Everything,” she said.

He smiled. “We’ve been preparing for this.”

“I know.” She nodded, but it still felt like someone was sitting on her chest. While simultaneously choking her from behind. Regardless of how anatomically impossible that was.

“Here. How about a distraction?” He stood to move back to the dressing room, grabbing his trousers, and then came back.

There, in his hand, was a ring.

No, not just any ring.

The ring.

Her engagement ring.

When she’d mentioned going to antique stores to try to find one, he’d insisted on doing the ring-shopping himself.

With everything else she had to worry about, she’d forgotten all about the ring that was supposedly “getting sized”.

Victor hadn’t forgotten.

And he hadn’t just gone out and bought some cheap, ugly ring from somewhere. He’d found the most gorgeous vintage ring she’d ever seen.

It was a stunning cushion-cut emerald with floating bubble halo diamonds to each side, set on a simple gold band.

“ Oh. ” She exhaled, feeling that warm sensation sliding across her chest like it often seemed to do when Victor was nearby.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “I know a diamond is trad-itional. But I thought colour suited you better.” He reached with his free hand for hers.

The second he touched her, she felt a tingle move across her hand, up her arm, then across her chest. Her gaze slid to his face, trying to ascertain if he felt the same tingle, if it was slowly working its way up to a flame across his skin like it was for her.

But with his head ducked, she was finding it hard to figure out what, if anything, he might be feeling as he slid the ring up her finger until it settled at the base, a perfect fit.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, looking down at how the dark-green emerald contrasted with her pale skin. “Where did you find it?” she asked, trying to draw her own attention away from the way he was still holding her hand.

His gaze cut up to hers, his light-green eyes soft. “It was my grandmother’s,” he told her, making that gooey sensation spread across her chest.

His scent was thick in the air between them, overwhelming her senses. His lips were so close. If she just leaned slightly forward …

“Your hands are freezing,” Victor said, looking down at her hands as he moved both of them between his, trying to warm her skin for her.

“Oh,” she said, noting the concern etched between his brows. “I have, uh, circulation issues.”

“We need to get you hand warmers,” he said, chafing her skin.

It was meant to be kind.

It wasn’t supposed to stoke the flames of desire within her until it caught, spread, and took over her completely.

Victor’s gaze flicked up again and it was impossible for Pandora not to let her eyes drift to his lips before moving back up.

It was right that second that Lucy came back, though, making the two of them break apart almost guiltily.

“I got the perfect … Did I interrupt something?” Lucy asked, picking up on the way they were shifting away from each other. And how Pandora couldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“No. Well, yes,” Pandora said.

“Which one is it?” Lucy asked. “Because I could go … take a walk. Or you two could get a room.” She gestured toward the dressing rooms.

If Pandora could blush, she was pretty sure she’d be flaming right then.

“Victor gave me an engagement ring,” she said, thrusting her hand out in the way any newly engaged woman would.

“That makes this dress all the better,” Lucy said, after ogling the ring for a second.

She lifted the hanger.

And there it was.

The perfect dress for the occasion.

It was a long silk slip dress in a deep shade of emerald green.

“I can’t wear that,” Pandora said.

“Don’t be silly.” Lucy reached down to grab Pandora’s hand, then pulled her into the changing room with her.

“How come Victor gets to be himself, but I have to dress like … like …” Her mother. Like her mother.

“Indulge me here,” Lucy said, hanging up the dress. “If you hate it, you can just wear what you have on. But give it a chance.”

With that, Lucy exited the room to stand a few feet from Victor as Pandora stripped in the dressing room, mumbling under her breath the whole time.

She slipped into the slinky material then turned to look at herself in the mirror. She hated to admit it, but she did look more like an excited, newly engaged woman. Even the fact that the ring matched the dress seemed intentional, like she knew she would be showing off the ring all night.

Rolling some tension out of her neck, she reached for the door.

“OK, I don’t hate it, but …” She trailed off as she exited.

She’d only been expecting Lucy.

But Victor was still sitting where she’d left him a few moments before. And as soon as she walked out, his head lifted.

Her hand, which was tugging self-consciously at the fabric, fell at the way his easy posture faltered as his eyes traced over her in a slow, deliberate sweep.

Gone was his usual broody exterior. Instead, his gaze carried the weight of something unspoken, something that made her stomach flip and her chest feel tight.

If her heart could beat, she swore it would be hammering against her ribcage.

The dress suddenly felt much tighter than it had inside the dressing room.

Did she look ridiculous?

Was it too much?

She opened her mouth to ask, but the words caught in her throat as his eyes met hers, dark and focused, like the entire world had fallen away, save for the two of them.

“You …” His voice came out low, husky, before he cleared his throat and straightened up. “It suits you.”

It suited her?

Pandora almost laughed. Nothing had ever felt less natural on her skin. But the intensity in his gaze made the laugh freeze in her throat.

“Is it too tight?” she managed to murmur.

To that, Victor’s lips twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was close.

“No,” he said, before his eyes did one final sweep.

“Too tight? With that figure? No,” Lucy said as Victor excused himself back into the dressing room.

Twenty minutes later, they had paid and were back at Luna Bean, each changing into their outfits for the night. Victor was left waiting for Lucy to fuss with Pandora’s make-up for a while.

Pandora was thankful for anything to distract her from her own nerves, and Lucy’s bubbly, incessant talking made it possible to get through the hour-long wait, before it was finally time for Victor and Pandora to make their way toward the Tube.

“Demons walk among us!” A voice carried across the platform as they waited for the train.

Pandora grumbled under her breath, “Not now.”

“What was that?” Victor asked, looking down at her.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, willing the train to pull up before the unwelcome orator noticed her again.

“They wear the skin of humans and they feed on your souls!”

Victor cast the man a sympathetic glance and Pandora saw him slide his hand into his back pocket, likely reaching for some spare change.

Until the man suddenly rushed toward them, making Victor straighten. “Demon! I see you! She will feed on your soul and drag you down to hell with her.”

“Hey.” Victor stepped forward, moving himself between the man and Pandora. “No, you need to step back,” he said, pulling himself up to full height.

“Repent now, before she devours your soul!”

“Back off.” Victor took another step toward the man.

“Victor, it’s OK,” she said, grabbing the back of Victor’s shirt, trying to pull him back.

“It’s not OK. He was in your face.”

Pandora couldn’t help but be charmed by his protectiveness.

When the man came back once again, Victor’s arm went around her, ushering her into the train car once it stopped and its doors opened.

“Don’t follow her,” he said to the man, who was on a mission to warn the world about her true nature. Then Victor stood between her and the man until the doors closed.

Pandora almost didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to do anything that would make Victor realize his arm was still draped protectively around her and release her. But as the silence stretched between them, she felt she had to be the one to break it.

“It’s sad that he has nowhere else to go,” she said, meaning that. Sure, he might be trying to out her and he wasn’t as crazy as society likely thought he was, but no one should be living on the streets or in the tunnels. Especially as the weather was getting cold.

“It is.” Victor glanced down at her.

“Thank you for getting between us,” she said.

“Of course.”

Then, noticing he was still holding on to her, his arm fell away. Pandora found herself aching for the warmth of him, but she sat in the seat he found for her, pretending she wasn’t getting more and more anxious with each passing moment.

“Are you cold?” Victor asked as they walked, the wind whipping them as they progressed forward, sending dried leaves flying around in little tornados.

“I’m OK,” she said, though Victor gave her a dubious glance.

“I should have bought the suit. At least I would have had the jacket for you.”

“We’re almost there,” she said, seeing the turrets of the Von Ashmore estate up ahead.

She didn’t point out her home, knowing that the glamour would give him the heebie-jeebies if she pointed it out now.

“This is your home?” Victor asked as they entered the grounds a few moments later, their shoes crunching on freshly fallen leaves.

“Yes,” she said, watching his wide eyes, the way his posture went a little tight again.

Feeling like he needed support every bit as much as she did right then, Pandora reached for Victor’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed back, looking down at her and giving her a nod.

“We can do this,” she said.

Then they started to move toward the cobblestone path.

Where Pandora froze as voices – far, far too many voices – drifted out of the old house.

She gasped. “Oh … oh, no.”

“What is it?” Victor asked, as Pandora’s gaze flew toward the street, seeing something she had missed.

At least a dozen very familiar cars.

This was supposed to be a small meet-and-greet between her parents and Victor.

Why the hell was her whole family there?

“Pandora, what’s wrong?” Victor asked.

She couldn’t answer, though, not as her mind swirled with about a million ways this night could go epically, monumentally, wrong.

She was about to suggest they turn back, walk away, do this some other time, when the front door flew open and there was her great-aunt Ravenna.

Ravenna was a force of nature wrapped in layers of crimson velvet. She was short and delightfully round with wild, silver curls that seemed to have a life of their own, springing out in every direction as if perpetually caught in an invisible wind.

Ravenna was dressed, as usual, in a deep-red velvet gown, with billowing sleeves embroidered with golden threads and cut scandalously low in front, revealing a generous amount of décolletage that defied both gravity and propriety.

Around her neck was a large ruby that danced upon her cleavage whenever she gestured with dramatic flair. Which was often.

Ravenna was the kind of woman whose presence filled every room she entered, whose over-the-top personality demanded to be noticed.

Even from yards away, Pandora caught a whiff of her great-aunt’s heavy-handed perfume, notes of amber and patchouli drifting to them on the breeze.

Here’s the happy couple!” Ravenna threw her arms up in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Pandora whispered to Victor.

“Come! Come!” Ravenna called out. “You’re late to your own engagement party!”