“Ciel? Is that you? What are you doing here? I told Billy to send you back to the boat.” His face threatened mayhem, and once I might’ve cowered under his glare. Not anymore.
I shrugged. “Couldn’t remember the way back. By the way, you’re welcome.”
He opened his mouth, probably to start another lecture, but stopped when I raised my eyebrows at him.
“Thank you,” he squeezed out. “Don’t ever do it again.” Then he hugged me tight enough to crush the breath out of me, and spoke softly, right next to my ear. “You and I need to talk. When we get back to—”
“Ciel!” Billy skidded to a halt, surfing the sludge, barely stopping himself before he rammed into us. Mark let go of me to steady him. Billy looked even worse than Mark, covered with blood—none of it his own, I hoped—as well as shit.
“Jesus, cuz, that was brilliant!
You
were brilliant! You sure we’re not from the same gene pool?”
In his excitement, he grabbed me by the waist, lifted me high, and twirled me twice before setting me back down. Mark was forced to step back.
Hands holding tightly to Billy’s shoulders, I laughed with him. “Not according to Auntie Mo. She claims you were part of the package when she married your dad.”
“Well, I guess she would know.” He leaned closer to me, resting his forehead on mine and lowering his voice so only I could hear. “Welcome to the playing field. Glad we’re on the same team—I’d hate to go up against you. You play dirty.”
Mark cleared his throat, interrupting our tête-à-tête. “She might’ve been hurt, you know. In case you didn’t think of that.”
Billy kept his head where it was, his eyes twinkling just centimeters from mine. “Uh-oh. Coach is mad.” Then he straightened up and said, “And without her, the rest of us most likely would have been killed before SÄPO got here. I’m not going to argue with the way things worked out.”
“It was luck that SÄPO got here when they did, or we’d all be dead, including Ciel. You really think that’s an acceptable risk?” Mark said, giving Billy as hard a look as I’d ever seen.
Billy let it roll off. “Not personally, no. But I think that’s up to Ciel to decide.”
I could’ve kissed him right then and there. Except his face was still covered in shit and all, so I didn’t.
* * *
SÄPO proved efficient at rounding up the stray neo-Vikings. They loaded as many of the medievally adorned, brown-caked men as they could find onto buses with armed guards, and sent them to be processed in Visby. The two Billy had put out of commission with his impressive knife work were seen to by agents skilled in first aid. They would eventually be able to walk again, maybe even before they were out of prison.
Per was taken away in a special, heavily armored van, shackled hand and foot. He was still screaming at the top of his lungs when I last saw him. I suspected it was just as well I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
Nils directed local police officers to an isolated warehouse full of the anabolic steroids used to lace the neo-Viking’s line of men’s grooming products, as well as incriminating documents related to Per’s illegal smuggling activities. The animal skins turned out to be more than just supplies for the neo-Viking recruits to make their leather accessories with—they also hid, in a well-cushioned manner, all kinds of small containers of the illegal muscle-building aids.
Ahiga, a disgruntled employee of the DEA, had been recruited by Per, who was excited by the prospect of expanding his macho empire across borders. He had thought Ahiga, along with Trey, whose legitimate import-export business was a great cover for smuggling activities, would make excellent American contacts. He’d been half-right. Ahiga would be sent back to the States to face charges.
After Trey’s CIA connection was discovered because of a fluke in the line of communication (I think that’s Company jargon for “somebody fucked up”), Per had been even more determined to maintain his connection to America via Ahiga, especially since the Indian was a major source of the steroids. Happily for testicles throughout Scandinavia, that was one pipeline now cut off.
Once the general hubbub surrounding the arrests was taken care of, I officially met the real Trey for the first time. Even covered in shit, even with a split and puffy lip, his smile still melted me a little. Mina was one lucky lady.
Nils graciously invited all of us over to his uncle’s farm to rinse off. Mark declined on behalf of everyone, saying a dip in the ocean followed by a rinse on the boat would suffice until we were back in Visby.
Laura took exception to Mark speaking for her. “Well, y’all can freeze your tushes off if you want to, but I’m taking Nils up on his offer.” She took the big guy’s hand. They were clearly thrilled to see each other again. “Are you certain you don’t want to come along, Ciel? I’m sure there’s plenty of hot water.”
“Nah. I’ll be fine on the boat. You guys must have a lot of catching up to do.”
Laura looked from Mark to Billy, firmly planted on either side of me, and cocked her head at me.
Which one?
her teasing eyes asked. I gave a tiny shrug.
Hell if I know.
Chapter 30
The surreal image in the full-length mirror floated dizzily before me. If I let my eyes go out of focus I looked as poofy as an unsheared sheep fresh from a spin in the tumble dryer.
Crap. Why did she have to choose the Cinderella dress?
I jumped when I heard the door open behind me. My brief moment of solitude in Mina’s childhood bedroom was over. Ava Milan, thirty-something Ace of All Wedding Planners, effervesced into the room, brimming with good-natured efficiency.
“You look absotively, posilutely stunning, Mina!” Her worshipful voice did nothing to soften my horror at being decked out in billowing, blinding white from head to toe. I would’ve felt totally ridiculous had I not also been wearing Mina’s aura. Thank God no one would ever see
me
in a getup like this.
“It’s time.” Ava flashed me her toothiest smile and made a minuscule adjustment to my veil, which was long enough to double as mosquito netting for a queen-size bed.
I followed her, and with every precarious step down the stairs my feet screamed at me silently. Really, the least Mina could’ve done was choose comfortable shoes. If I got through the day on four-inch stilettos without breaking an ankle, I’d consider myself blessed. I already had blisters on both heels from all my practice walking, and my toes were cramping like a son of a bitch, and for what? You couldn’t even see the damn things underneath the umpteen layers of silk and lace that barricaded me from the rest of the world.
There are times when I hate my job.
Little more than two weeks had passed since my return from Sweden. Mina just couldn’t wait any longer than that to live her dream. Really. She
couldn’t
wait. She was pregnant.
After everything she’d done to orchestrate this momentous day, you’d think she’d be the last person to leave the actual walk down the aisle to someone else. But it turned out she really was more interested in being married to Trey than in the trappings of the occasion, no matter how much she had entertained herself with the planning.
The truth was, she was more than a little concerned she would never get through the day without decking Dragon Mama, pregnancy hormones being what they are. Personally, I thought that would help set the right tone for future relations with the woman, but I don’t get paid to think. Mina wanted beautiful pictures for her wedding album, and blood flowing from her mother-in-law’s nose would not provide a happy remembrance to share with her future children.
I sighed. At least I was getting paid well. After I sent her Trey, with a ring, Mina thought I could do no wrong, and was willing to allocate quite a substantial sum to keeping me on retainer for possible future visits with the in-laws. She promised to triple my pay whenever I could find someone to fill in for Trey, too. My business prospects were looking up.
Mina’s father met us at the back door, glowing with paternal pride as he held out his arm for me. He was also glowing with two or three martinis, and who could blame him? I’d drink heavily today, too, if I could get away with it.
I smiled at him and whispered, “I love you, Daddy,” as we started down the petal-strewn path beneath the tent on the lawn. Fourteen bridesmaids, twin flower girls, and a terminally cute ring bearer had blazed the trail for us.
At the end of the aisle Mina’s groom waited. Or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof. Naturally, Mina wasn’t going to sit back and allow me to marry the real Trey. No, he was hidden away with his bride at my undisclosed island hideaway, enjoying a private honeymoon after their private—and small—real wedding. The lucky bastards.
Standing in for Trey was Mark. Or maybe Billy.
And therein lay the real source of my discomfort. It was
killing
me not knowing which one of them I was marrying.
Mark had been pulled into a sensitive job as soon as we hit the home shore, and had enlisted Billy’s help. When I’d sent out my SOS about the wedding they hadn’t been certain who would be available; they’d only sworn one of them would be here. It shouldn’t matter who it was—this wasn’t really us—but somehow the mass of butterflies swarming in my stomach didn’t take that into consideration.
Though we hadn’t had a chance to speak privately since the incident on the boat, Mark had hinted, on our way back to the States, that there would be a long talk in our future. But who knew what that meant? I still had a major crush on him—old habits die hard—but it could be
he
was just sorry he’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, and wanted to apologize. (Not that the whole thing was entirely his fault. I mean, I
had
wiggled.)
And Billy … geez. I didn’t know
what
to think about him. It was like there were two of him occupying my head: the one I’d grown up with—my best friend-slash-nemesis—and the one who’d kissed me senseless while eating pancakes, and made me feel ten feet tall when he cheered my victory over Per.
Gaaah
.
As the priest spoke words I could barely absorb, I gazed into Trey’s ocean-blue eyes and tried to detect some clue as to his real identity. His face gave nothing away. We both spoke the words we were supposed to, and the deed was done. Mina and Trey were married in the eyes of the world.
The kiss. Surely I’ll be able to tell after the kiss …
No such luck. It was a pleasant kiss, but as unlike Billy’s or Mark’s as a good adaptor could make it. Not the slightest hint of anything non-Trey detectable, damn whoever the hell it was. Probably Mark.
He
never let any of himself leak through an aura, no matter what.
On the other hand, it would be just like Billy to torment me.
Whoever it was maintained his cover perfectly throughout the posed shots with the control freak of a photographer. My cheek muscles ached from holding Mina’s face in a perpetual smile—which wasn’t easy with her new mother-in-law poking her nose into every shot—but the groom breezed through the whole session with perfect aplomb. The non-Chiclets smile wasn’t nearly as endearing as it once was.
I got through most of the reception with my radiant bride-face on autopilot, pretending to know a multitude of people I’d never met. Mr. Perfect never dropped his facade for an instant.
Finally, just in time to save my sanity, I saw something that infused my smile with sincerity. Two burly members of the catering staff carried out the showpiece of the evening: a breathtaking, six-tiered Matterhorn of a cake.
For the first time all day I didn’t care who my groom was. Mark. Billy. Jay Leno. Hell, he could be Groucho Marx’s bastard grandson, as long as I got a piece of that beautiful confection.
Trey and I were about to cut the ceremonial first slice when Dragon Mama insinuated herself into the picture. Again. I gritted my teeth, a trifle peeved on Mina’s behalf. And, okay, maybe my blood sugar was a little low. She really shouldn’t have tried to come between me and the cake.
“Excuse me, Mother Harrison,” I said politely, delighting inwardly at the pained expression on her face when she heard it. For Mina’s sake, I didn’t snicker. “I think I should probably be the one standing next to
my husband
.”
Oh, direct hit! She frosted me with her eyes. “Do call me Helene.”
Ha. I’d rather call her “Granny” and watch her face melt. But that would be a major violation of my contract with Mina. She and Trey should have the pleasure of sharing that joyful news with her themselves. Still, there was no harm in poking her just a little, was there?
“But we’re family now, Mother Harrison. Or would you prefer ‘Mom’?” I kept Mina’s smile sweet. Really. It was more fun that way.
“Helene. I insist,” she said, ever so drily.
“Okay. Helene,” I capitulated. I was sure Mina wouldn’t want to call this woman Mom, anyway. “Now, about my husband…”
Her eyes narrowed as she warped her mouth into a smile. “Of course. After just a few pictures. You don’t mind, do you? Just in case. You know how it is. So many marriages don’t work out, and it would be a shame not to have a picture of Henry in his finery without…” She lifted one eyebrow delicately.
My smile stiffened, and I looked to Trey for support.
Count
, he mouthed to me.
Deep breaths. One, two, three …
Right. Good advice, something that could have come from either Mark or Billy.
One … two … three
… I could do this …
four … five … six …
No, I couldn’t.
I sidled over to Dragon Mama. “But our marriage will last forever. I promise. For-
ever
. So let’s get a nice, cozy shot of the three of us, okay?” I moved closer, took careful aim, and—oops!—accidentally stepped on her foot with my stiletto heel. (Some accidents take more finesse than others.) The screech was music to my ears. I only hoped one of the three roving videographers got a good shot of her tonsils.
Dragon Mama teetered on one foot, leaning over and holding the other with both hands. “Why, you little—”