“So is it serious?” she teased.

Oliver shook his head. “No. I’ll probably never see her again, but it’s okay. Don’t you worry about me,” he said, before planting a hearty kiss on her forehead.

“Hey!” Jack called. “Only the groom gets to kiss the bride!”

Schuyler and Oliver giggled, and they followed Jack and Bliss into the small café. When the manager found out it was a pre-wedding dinner, they were treated to a feast: steaming plates of tender beef carpaccio and grilled zucchini, white truffle carbonara, ravioli stuffed with pears and pecorino cheese, a buttery and tender Florentine steak. For dessert, there were plates of Sacher torte and tarte tatin and the best tiramisu Schuyler had ever tasted.

Now Oliver was standing in the middle of the restaurant, clearing his throat. “A toast,” he said. “A toast to an amazing couple. I wanted to say something simple and elegant for this momentous occasion, so I’ll leave it to the poets instead. This is a poem that was composed for a wedding.” He began to read from a poem by Frank O’Hara. It was a winding tale of love and friendship, and the group listened keenly. “‘This poem goes on too long because our friendship has been long, long for this life and these times.’” Oliver smiled. “‘And I would make it as long as I hope our friendship lasts if I could make poems that long.’”

“Hear, hear,” Jack cheered, and Schuyler clinked his glass.

Oliver took his seat to wild applause, as even the rest of the restaurant’s patrons had stopped to listen to the music of his words.

Bliss stood up next. “Ollie, you’re a hard act to follow,” she chided. She cleared her throat. “I just want to say how honored I am to be here today. We love you, Sky, and because we love Sky, we love you too, Jack. Take care of each other. Be kind to each other. You have all our good wishes and all of our hearts. Don’t forget us and don’t forget to ask for help when you need it.” She paused, and for a moment Schuyler thought Bliss would talk about the many dangers they would soon be facing. Her friends knew that after the bonding, she and Jack would be separated, that this was just a small bubble, an oasis of happiness before a long and dark story of separation and unknown menace.

After tomorrow, the four of them would each set off from Italy on their own perilous journeys. Oliver back to New York, where vampires were being mysteriously abducted; Bliss to search for the elusive Hellhounds; Schuyler to Alexandria to fulfill her grandfather’s legacy; and Jack to return to face his twin and his destiny, to see if he could win the battle with Death herself.

But Bliss did not mention any of the darkness. She did not have to: they were all thinking the same thing. In a clear voice, she called out, “To Schuyler and Jack!”

There was a bang of wineglasses and merrymaking. Bliss gave Schuyler a fierce hug. Schuyler pulled Jack into the embrace, and Bliss made room for Oliver, so that the four of them were linked in an unbroken circle.

EIGHT

Wedding Morning

Early the next morning in the privacy of their bed, Schuyler huddled closer to Jack. She could feel the sunlight streaming into the room, filling it with warmth. Today was their bonding day. She felt his hand on the small of her back, his skin on her skin as he slipped it underneath the light fabric. She turned to him so that she was enveloped, crushed in his arms.

Without saying a word, Jack began to kiss her cheek and her neck, and Schuyler felt his body move over hers, felt the heaviness of him settle upon her. After tonight, they would be bonded.

But that morning, they were still just two people.

After all those trysts in the secret apartment, one would think they had already crossed this line. But she was still chaste. Still innocent, although perhaps not as naive as a virgin bride slipping into her wedding bed, nervous and shaking. No. Not that innocent. But she had wanted to wait for this, had wanted to wait until she was ready, and now she did not want to wait any longer.

She opened her eyes and found him staring at her. The question in his eyes was answered by her kiss. Yes, my darling. Yes. Now.

She lifted his shirt above his chest and helped him undress, her fingers lightly skimming the length of his body. He was so beautiful and warm and solid. And he was hers. She felt pliant and soft underneath him. His skin was hot to the touch, and it felt as if they were both burning, burning.

She could not breathe, she could not think, she could only feel—only feel his kiss and his touch and his weight and the two of them together.

Jack sank his fangs into her neck and she surrendered to him, to love, to pleasure, to the feel of him everywhere—in every last part of her. He took her and held her, and when it happened, she felt broken and free and new.

She could not stop crying. She was so happy, although happy was not the word, it was more than that. It was strong and coursing through her as if she were lit like a candle, an extension of his love and lust, a mere collection of nerve endings. She felt open and whole and surrendered.

“What is wrong, my love?” he whispered, his beautiful face a breath from hers.

She pulled him ever closer. She kissed him hungrily. Nothing is wrong. Nothing…nothing at all.

It was wonderful and frightening and awkward and ecstatic, and she was dizzy from the blood and the pain. But the pleasure was more intense, and more than she could have imagined.

Sweet oblivion.

Tonight they would be bonded. Tonight, she would be his. But she was already.

NINE

Angel Bride

At sunset, Schuyler walked into a small church on the north side of the city. She had made the journey alone, as tradition called, her new leather sandals stepping lightly on the cobblestones. When she arrived, Bliss was waiting for her at the vestibule entry.

“You look gorgeous as usual,” her friend sighed. “And that dress!” Bliss handed her a bouquet of wildflowers. The same kind that Jack had given her during their climb up Mount Rosa. “Jack wanted me to give this to you.”

Schuyler smiled as she accepted them. She put a flower in her hair. Her heart beat wildly, and she felt so much love—not just for Jack but for her friends, who were with her on this night.

“Where’s our girl?” a voice asked.

“Ollie!” Schuyler cried, turning to give him a tight hug. Even though they had just seen each other the night before, she was so glad that after everything they had gone through, they were all there for one another. This was what she had wanted. A bonding was both a commitment between her and Jack and a celebration for their community. These were her people.

“I think I get to give you away,” Oliver said with a smile. “Which is only appropriate, don’t you think?”

From behind the closed chapel doors, Schuyler heard the sound of Wagner’s Bridal Chorus, commonly known as “Here Comes the Bride.” A traditional choice perhaps, but on her bonding day Schuyler did not want to trifle with convention. She felt deep-seated desire to pay homage to the institution they were joining.

“I think that’s our cue,” she told Oliver, taking his hand. Bliss opened the doors and stepped into the aisle first, as the bridesmaid.

Schuyler felt none of the butterflies or anxiety she had thought she would feel. She looked straight ahead.

Because there he was.

Her Jack, standing so straight and true. Their love had been tested and challenged, but they had come out of it whole. Their love was stronger than ever. This bright, cheerful happiness that filled the room was his creation. He had cast his own spell, had managed to track down Bliss, and had brought Oliver from New York. They were not even the only friends in attendance. The small chapel was filled with smiling, familiar faces. There was the entire lacrosse team: Bryce Cutting and Jamie Kip and Booze Langdon and Froggy Kernochan. There were Hattie and Julius Jackson, beaming and proud. There was Christopher Anderson. There was Ghedi, their friend, even after everything.

Oliver kissed her on the cheek and shook Jack’s hand.

Then Jack kissed her forehead, and the two of them walked toward the altar. This was right, this was wonderful. This was the happiest day of her life.

Somewhere, not too far, Schuyler felt the presence of those who were missing. She felt Dylan smiling. She felt the love of her grandparents, Lawrence and Cordelia. But most of all, she felt the loving presence and guardianship of her mother and father, wherever they were.

* * *

There was no priest at the head of the altar. Blue Blood unions were made by the bondholders themselves. They only had to consecrate their union by saying the right words to each other.

Jack turned to Schuyler, reaching for her left hand. He slipped a ring on her finger. It was the same one that the Venator had brought. The cursed ring.

“Drusilla thought she could spoil this day for me. But she was wrong,” Jack said. “I should thank her, truly, for giving back what I had once lost.”

Schuyler stared curiously at the ring on her finger. The white metal was gone. She saw now that it was a dark-colored band, threaded with a crimson line, as if it were cast of iron and blood.

Jack held it up to the light.

In all my years on this Earth, I have amassed a fortune of jewels and treasures. I can offer you diamonds and rubies, sapphires and emeralds. Yet there is no jewel brighter than your eyes.