"Do you promise to protect her with violence, to love her with obsession, to worship her with the dedication you bring to your darkest works?"
"I do."
"Celeste Sterling, do you take this man to be your husband? To have and to hold, in darkness and in deeper darkness, in blood and in blessing, until death do you part?"
"I do."
"Do you promise to stand beside him in his works, to sharpen his edges as he sharpens yours, to be his partner in all things both terrible and beautiful?"
"I do."
"The rings, please."
I pull out a simple black band, a mate to Patricia's diamond monstrosity.
Celeste produces one for me—also black, also simple.
We wanted nothing that could catch the light, nothing that would identify us at crime scenes.
"These rings are circles, representing eternity. But they are also shackles, binding you together in your choices. What you do to one, you do to both. What hunts one, hunts both. What kills one..."
"Kills both," we say in unison.
Sterling makes a sound like choking.
"Cain, place the ring on Celeste's finger and speak your vows."
I slide the black band next to Patricia's ring, the contrast striking—old beauty and new darkness.
"Celeste," I begin, my voice steady despite the hurricane in my chest, "I vow to be your knife in the dark, your shelter in the storm of what we're becoming. I promise to teach you everything I know about ending life, and learn from you about creating it on the page. I will be faithful to you and our work, dedicated to our justice, devoted to our darkness. From this night forward, your enemies are my prey, your demons my congregation. I will love you in ways that would terrify others but will only inspire you. This I vow, until my last kill, until my last breath, until the world burns or we burn it ourselves."
Celeste is crying, but smiling.
The tears look like diamonds in the candlelight.
"Celeste, place the ring on Cain's finger and speak your vows."
Her hands are steady as she slides the ring on.
It fits perfectly, cold and final.
"Cain," she says, her voice carrying strength that could crack stone, "I vow to be your partner in darkness, your accomplice in justice, your co-author in rewriting the world's wrongs. I promise to hold the knife when your hands shake, to hide the bodies when you're tired, to alibi your existence with my own. I will write our story in fiction and live it in fact. Your hunts are my hunts, your kills my celebration. I will love you not despite the blood on your hands but because of it, not apart from your violence but through it. This I vow, until the last predator falls, until the last page is written, until we've painted the world in the red it deserves."
Sterling is crying now too, but his tears are different.
His are the tears of a man watching his world end.
"By the power vested in me by absolutely no one but ourselves," Juliette says, "I now pronounce you husband and wife, bound in darkness, sealed in blood. You may kiss."
I pull Celeste against me and kiss her like the world is ending, because for some people tonight, it will.
She tastes like champagne and promises, like violence and vengeance.
When we part, there's blood on her lip where I bit too hard.
She licks it away, smiling.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Juliette announces to the empty room, to the ghosts, to Sterling who looks like he's become one, "I present Mr. and Mrs. Lockwood."