Chapter 16
Just as I placed the blade against my wrist, though, I stopped my hand.

Cutting myself was going to hurt, and if the knife went too deep, I could find myself bleeding too much. People committed suicide by slitting their wrists…

I knew that I wouldn’t really die that night – couldn’t be destroyed that way – but I still found my fingers shaking a little as I rested the blade against a spot where a blue vein was visible just below the surface of my skin.

It was one thing to have Lucius gently pierce my flesh in a moment of passion – and quite another to sit there alone, like an untrained surgeon, and draw my own blood… enough to fill a cup that suddenly seemed much larger than it had just moments before…

Behind me, Mindy shifted her feet, which caused the fabric of her simple black sheath to rustle, and I knew that I needed to hurry. It was getting late, and I didn’t want to keep our guests – and especially Lucius – waiting.

Lucius…

Somewhere deep in the recesses of the Vladescu estate, wherever he was getting ready, he would be performing the same ritual as me. I knew that his hand wouldn’t tremble, though. I could imagine him calmly lifting the knife, placing the blade against his flesh and drawing an almost invisible line down his arm. A line that would in seconds turn crimson as the blood began to flow out. He would turn his wrist over the cup and allow it to collect the drops…

Fingers more sure, I pressed my own knife harder against my skin, and flinched as the well-honed blade, as sharp as a real scalpel, broke through. I applied just a little more pressure, focused on that thin trace of blue vein, and heard Mindy gasp as the dark, thick blood suddenly rushed out of the wound, covering my wrist.

The narrow gash hadn’t hurt at first, but it started to sting, then, and I sucked in a breath and forced myself to ignore the sharp, throbbing ache.

Just do this for Lucius… The worst part is over…

Steeling myself against more pain, I drew the blade about a half inch farther down my arm, then carefully and quickly turned my wrist so the blood that was coming faster, by then, dripped in a steady rhythm into the waiting cup.

I knew that Mindy was probably horrified – maybe even a little queasy – to watch me. If I had been in her place – had never tasted blood or shared it – I would have felt the same way. But of course, I had changed, and as the nearly black liquid spilled from my vein, I couldn’t stop thinking, in spite of the pain, how beautiful it was. How I wanted to share this very essence of myself with Lucius, that night and many, many times in the future…

“Jess…” Mindy’s uncertain voice broke into my thoughts, and I glanced up to find that she had come close and was bending down beside me, a worried look in her eyes. “I think that’s enough,” she said, looking to my arm. “I think you should stop…”

“Yes,” I agreed, noting that the cup already held a few ounces. “That’s enough.”

I shifted and turned my arm so it lay flat on the tray, then used my other hand to lift the spoon full of herbs – willow and ginger – that would keep the blood from clotting too quickly. I stirred these into the cup, then started to reach for one of the pieces of cut cloth.

“Here.” Mindy surprised me by taking my bleeding arm in her hand and grabbing the cloth, too, before I could touch it. “Let me help, so you don’t get blood on your dress.”

“Okay,” I said, letting her press the material against the wound.

After about a minute, when the blood didn’t seep through the fabric, Mindy carefully lifted a corner and peeked underneath. “I think it’s stopped,” she said. She met my eyes. “But I’ll leave that piece on your arm, so we don’t accidentally open the cut again, okay?”

I nodded. “Thanks.” It wasn’t exactly the right answer to Mindy’s question, but I wanted her to know that I appreciated the calm, capable way she was dealing with a situation that most bridesmaids weren’t asked to handle. And I was also grateful for the look in her eyes, which told me that I didn’t repulse her.

I watched as she wound the bandage around my arm with the same care she’d used when arranging my hair, and I knew without a doubt that I’d chosen the right person to be my maid of honor. That I’d chosen the right girl to be my best friend, so many years before.

“Thanks,” I repeated, as she tucked away the tail of the cloth, so it looked as neat as possible. When Mindy stood up, I raised my arm, thinking that the bandage, which I’d feared would spoil my appearance, was actually strangely right. It was a visible reminder that, in spite of the care that Lucius and I were taking to make our wedding perfect, and to look perfect for each other, we were still two flawed individuals who brought not only deep love but also old wounds to our marriage. Places inside of one another that we would always have to be careful with. I would always need to remember Lucius’s awful childhood, and understand those times when he grew quiet and retreated into himself. And Lucius would always need to reassure me that the dark side of himself would never be unleashed on me.

I traced my fingers across the fabric, wincing again when they passed over the cut, which still stung a little. Lucius would have a nearly identical bandage, tied on by Raniero, and the same pain…

“Should I take this out?” Mindy offered, reaching for the tray.

“No, wait,” I said, stopping her with a hand on her arm. “I’m not done yet.”

“No?” Mindy’s raised eyebrows – and the way she kind of yelped – told me that, while she was doing a great job coping with a vampire wedding, she’d seen me shed enough blood for one night.

But I had no choice, and I took the knife again, not scared this time, because I knew I could handle the sting. Then, using my left hand, I marked the palm of my right with a deep “x.” Once again, the blood seeped out, and I picked up the last clean cloth, grasping it tightly in my fist to staunch the flow.

“Lucius will mark his left hand,” I told Mindy, who seemed understandably confused. “So when we hold hands at the ceremony to speak our vows, our blood will be blended, palm to palm.”

“Oh, wow…” I could tell that Mindy, always a romantic, was torn between thinking that this was the most beautiful gesture ever – and believing that it was also totally wrong.

“Some vampires bear the scar for the rest of their lives,” I added. “Like a wedding ring that you can never remove.”

That was why I’d tried to cut my palm so deeply. I wanted that permanent reminder of the night I married Lucius. My first real scar. I knew that Lucius would definitely make his cut deep and wide. That, having endured so many scarring wounds in his past, he wouldn’t even flinch to add another to his hand, to mark himself as mine.

Mindy didn’t seem to know what to say to this, so I nodded to signal that it was time for her to take away the tray – and stop worrying about whether I would use the knife again. “I’m done now, if you’re sure you don’t mind...”

“Oh, sure,” she said, putting the lid on the cup and carrying away the tray, balancing it with one hand as she opened the door.

The silent, waiting servant accepted the burden from her hands, and Mindy closed the door. As she came back across the room, she asked, “Now what?”

“We wait,” I said, “for whoever will lead us to the wedding.”

Once again, in spite of Mom’s advice, the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering like crazy. Somewhere in the estate, our guests – vampire and human – would be assembled, and Lucius would be making his way to the ceremony, and…

Who was even coming for me?

Another servant? One of Lucius’s two guards?

I didn’t have long to wonder, because before Mindy could even decide whether to risk wrinkling her dress by sitting down, there was another knock on the door to the adjoining room, and I again rushed to answer it, too nervous and impatient to let my maid of honor do it.

And this time, when I opened the door to reveal the corridor, I saw that someone had been very, very busy as I’d been spilling my blood for Lucius. I also greeted, with great happiness, my escort to the ceremony.

Continue to Chapter 17...