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“I’ll carry it.” He glanced at Camille, then at me. “You two okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” I plastered a smile on my face.
“Because Shamas called and told me what happened. Delilah, we’ll fix your car. And we’ll find who did it, and they will never lift a paint can again.”
Before I—or Camille—could say a word, Trillian was off again, cake in hand, heading toward one of the tents. Oh man. If the guys knew, then we’d have a situation to defuse. But they also knew better than to take matters in hand today.
“Come on.” Camille motioned to me. “Let’s see what needs to be done.”
It was nearly four by the time we found something to do. Nobody else mentioned my Jeep, and so I hoped Trillian had kept his mouth shut. We hustled into the kitchen, which had been dubbed the staging area, and saw the big basket of flowers that had to be attached to the poles on the front of each tent.
Actually, it was more like five tents pulled together to form one giant one with four wings and the central stage. But each wing had its own entrance through which guests could enter and leave, and tables were set up to host the buffet spread we’d be putting out. Bruce had paid for the caterers, thank heavens, because the final bill for the food and booze had come in at more than two thousand dollars. Supes ate more than most FBHs.
We carried the baskets out to the yard and began wrapping the poles of the tents with mirrors of Iris’s bouquet: strings of white tiger lilies, sterling roses in the most heavenly shades of lavender and purple, and long draping tendrils of ivy. Delicate prisms shaped like icicles peeked out from the flower arrangements, catching the silver light reflecting off the clouds.
With the addition of the flowers, the ivory tents suddenly became elegant, dressy, and classic, rather than stark. Balloons in shades of blue, purple, silver, and white with long streamer ribbons hovered near the top of the tents, the helium keeping them aloft. Long tables were covered with starched linen tablecloths and neat stacks of plates and silverware. Within the next few hours, the tables would be filled with chafing dishes and salads and platters of deli meats and cheeses, and—of course—the cake.
Camille and I stood back, eyeing the décor. She burst into a huge smile and clapped. “It’s so beautiful. Iris deserves this and so much more. She’s been through so much, and for so long.”
I let out a long sigh, torn. Iris would still be with us. But she belonged with Bruce now. And she’d be having a baby soon. The little girl in me wanted to reach out, to grab hold of her hands, to say, “Let’s run away and play.”
But the tents were gorgeous, and in a few hours, Iris would have the wedding she’d always hoped for. And all of her friends would be here. As I stood there, looking at the waiting pavilion, my heart lifted and the little girl who had longed for good friends grew up, right before my eyes. I had good friends. I had friends who had become family. Tonight, one of my best friends would achieve her heart’s desire. And we were privileged to stand by her, to witness and participate in her joy.
“It’s been a long past two years since Iris first came to work for me at the Indigo Crescent. And look at where we’re at.” Camille crossed her hands. “I’m married to three men. Menolly’s in a serious relationship, you’re in a serious relationship…life has moved along.”
“That it has,” I said with a smile, thinking of Shade. “That it has.”
While we hadn’t spoken about it yet, Shade and I were exclusive, and would probably remain so—except for my relationship with Hi’ran. In the short time we’d been together, I’d come to rely on my half-dragon lover being there for me. He understood all sides of me—from the tabby within, to the panther, to the half-breed woman. He loved every aspect of me, and I felt it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
“Come on.” Camille tucked an arm around my waist as we swung out of the tents. “Let’s go see what else needs to be done.”
And for the first time in a long while, I relaxed and began to enjoy the day.
The candles glistened around the tents, shielded from the wind by cut crystal hurricane lamps. Giving one final look around as the men seated the hundred or so guests who’d shown up, I hurried back inside, into Iris’s room. I was wearing an ivory slip dress of silk and satin, flowing down to my ankles, with a pale blue needlepoint shawl, and satin ivory boots that laced up the front. Menolly was there, dressed just like me, her shawl pinned in the front by a blue topaz brooch. My brooch was pearl.
Camille was wearing her priestess robes—flowing and sheer, patterned with peacock feathers. Beneath them, her embroidered bra and panties peeked through. The cloak of the Black Unicorn was tucked around her shoulders, and she was barefoot, as was the tradition of her order, with a silver circlet around her head.
Hanna was helping Iris dress. The wedding dress caught me off guard. It was spectacular. With a strapless corseted bustline, it hugged her curves to her waist, in shades of pale blue and plum, beaded with faceted crystals from Otherworld that shimmered in the light. The skirt of the dress flowed out, a dream of pale blue satin, over which panels of plum and cobalt tulle blossomed, the netting beaded with more sparkling crystals.
A veil of the same tulle draped over her hair, which cascaded to the ground to form a glowing cloak of liquid gold strands. Her veil was held in place by a crystal tiara, delicate and small but brilliant enough to catch the light and send it prisming into rainbows.
Iris held out her hands and Hanna slid on the robin’s-egg-blue fingerless elbow-length gloves. We stood there, watching our friend dress for her wedding, and all I could think of was how incredibly beautiful she looked. Her eyes were radiant, outlined with kohl, and her cheeks rosy, and the pale peach lip gloss matched her coloring perfectly. The tattoos on her face glimmered, shining with some internal light.
“You are a vision,” I whispered.
“Delilah’s right.” Menolly’s hand fluttered to her heart. “You’re so beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”
Iris ducked her head, but her smile filled the room with light. “Thank you, for being with me. For standing with me. Bruce…”
“Bruce is a lucky man. And he’d better man up and treat you right.” I wanted to sound stern, but my threats were hollow. We knew how much he loved her. We saw it every day. Bruce might never be a warrior, but he’d fight for the woman he loved, the woman carrying his child.
I glanced at the clock. It was time. “Are you ready, Iris?”
Camille leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’ll meet you out there, babe. I have to go prepare for the ceremony.” She slipped out the door.
Hanna clapped her hands. “Iris, you look so lovely. You are happy, correct?” Her English might be stilted, but her heart was in the right place.
Iris nodded, blushing again. “I’m happy, and for once my morning sickness is taking a break. I’m probably too nervous to throw up.”
