Page 75 of Hunter

“Hunter, you’ll get called out for blasphemy. We are in church,” she scolds playfully.

“And I’m worshiping my personal goddess.”

She goes to open her mouth to reply as the wedding march begins. The congregation stands to attention, all eyes fixed on the door. All except the husband-to-be, who is standing with his men, chatting as if at a football match. I look from him to the empty doorway, and I know this was the right decision. Not only for my niece, but for me, for my wife, and for the man I am.

The song comes to an end, then repeats. Guests begin to mutter nervously between themselves. Lombardi looks to me, and I nod encouragingly. His associate stalks over to me as Isabella and myself stand in the front row.

“Where is she?” he hisses. “Mr. Lombardi doesn’t appreciate being kept waiting.”

“It is tradition for a bride to make her future husband wait,” I reply smoothly. “Isn’t that right, Bella?”

“Yes,” she says, plastering on a wide smile, but there’s no hiding the uncertainty behind her eyes. She shifts uneasily as the man returns to his position.

When I look back to the doorway, Damon appears for a brief moment then is gone again. It was him who convinced me this was how it should be done. He made the arrangements; I merely gave it my blessing. Not that anyone of the injured parties can know that this was the only way we could ensure Tilly be free without causing an all-out war. We had to bargain with the enemy.

Damon had come to me after New Year, after I had been so close to killing Greyson. He leveled with me and told me what I hadn’t wanted to hear—the truth about the man I thought betrayed me. Damon had found Tilly and Greyson together in Edinburgh; he realized what happened between them before I even considered the possibility. He also pointed out it was him who had saved her at the ball, and it was Greyson who put Tilly first.

Not me. Not her future husband. The man I instructed to bring her home when she ran away.

I’d been sitting in my office nursing a glass of whiskey when Damon had arrived. The look on his face told me he was there to discuss something important, and it was a conversation I wasn’t going to enjoy.

“You’ve just had your wife return to your side,” he said. “You pined after her for twenty years. You know what love is, Hunter, so see it from their point of view.”

I’d scoffed. “Calling a shotgun romance between two people thrown together love is ridiculous.” But even as the words left my lips, I knew I was lying. I’d seen it with my own eyes in that hotel as I tortured him, drawing my knife over his skin. He loved Tilly and would do anything to protect her, just as I would Bella, over and over again, until there was none of me left to defend her.

The crowd becomes more restless as the bride doesn’t appear. I know something is meant to occur, but I don’t know what. Damon was insistent the less I knew the better, and all I needed to know was it would happen.

“You can’t have an active role in this,” Damon had said. “I will contact Rodion.”

That had been the plan, the big twist to attempt to placate one disgruntled family while outwitting another. We knew that the Anastasovs of Russia weren’t happy with my dealings with the Lombardis. We knew the ships going missing was all some big hoax in order to create unrest in our world, and now we were going to ask for their help. It was a risk, but we hoped the reward outweighed the hatred.

Before I can think any more of what could happen, a man comes running from behind the groom and his men.

“Gas leak!” he hollers. He is dressed in a boiler suit, as if ready to work, his accent almost Eastern European or even Russian. “Get out now, it’s going to blow!”

Guests scatter like marbles. Women in towering heels and extravagant hats banging into one another, stepping on the toes of their aged, shouting husbands. The earlier murmurs turn to screams as panic sets in.

“You have ten seconds,” the unknown man bellows. I sit still, Bella beside me clutching my hand.

“Is this real?” she whispers.

“Bella, just stand and leave calmly. It will be fine.”

“Hunter…”

“Trust me, I’ve got ya now.” I stand up and take her hand firmly, leading her behind the gaggle of guests.

“But Tilly,” she continues.

“She’s safe.”

We keep walking, my eyes fixed straight ahead of me until we step out into the cold winter sun. As we reach where the bride’s car should have been, Damon stands idle beside the empty parking space, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Where is my bride?” a furious voice growls in my ear. I take a deep breath then turn to face the man I need to fool. Domenico Lombardi. “A gas leak—could you not have come up with something more original, Devane?”

“The car drove on,” Damon says calmly. He steps up to my side and we both look the old man in the eye. “I think she may have changed her mind.”

“Changed her mind!” Lombardi screams, losing control. “It wasn’t that little tart’s choice. We had a deal.” His focus comes to me, nothing but evil deep within.

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