room, got out of that lovely purple dress, and pulled on my street clothes, half listening as the clerk tried to talk her way out of the pit she’d dug for herself.
The others finished dressing long before I did; of course, none of them had to arm themselves. Most of the weaponry I was carrying, including the holster with my 1911 Colt, was concealed by the spells put on my tailored black blazer. Even with the armament, you couldn’t have faulted my fashion statement. I wore a red silk shell and new black jeans under the jacket; the Colt’s black leather holster perfectly matched my short black boots, one of which had a built-in holster for my derringer.
When I was finally ready, Queen Lopaka and her security detail led the bride and her bridesmaids out of the store, leaving the attendant spluttering in our wake. A black stretch limo pulled up to the curb as we flowed out of the building.
Adriana and I were the last to exit the shop, and I stopped abruptly when my boots hit the sidewalk. Something was wrong. I couldn’t have said what exactly was bothering me, but it didn’t matter.
“Down! Everybody down!” I screamed, swinging my arm out and snagging Adriana around the waist. I shoved her behind me, almost throwing her to the pavement, as I put myself between her and the roadway.
For a fraction of an instant, time seemed to slow drastically. More guards appeared, seeming to hover in midair as the queen’s eyes went wide. The back windows of the limo rolled down. Rifle barrels appeared. Natasha and Olga froze as members of the security team reached for them. The bridesmaids looked like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car—stunned and blank. Guns roared. Men and women screamed, glass shattered, and car doors slammed.
I got all this in fragments; I was busy trying to wrestle Adriana into the limited safety of the bridal shop when what she wanted was to rush to her mother’s side. I heard an engine roar and a squeal of tires as a second limo tore off into traffic. In the silence that fell I realized that Lopaka, Natasha, and Olga had been driven away, leaving me and my cousin alone with the gunmen. It’s not the way I would have done it, but I suppose it made sense—I was a bodyguard, and Adriana was my responsibility. It was actually sort of flattering that the Siren Secret Service presumed I’d get her to safety.
I tried to get her to calm down, saying, “They’re fine. I don’t smell blood behind me.” But Adriana kept struggling with me. I suspected she didn’t believe me—and she was right not to, because I was lying.
Finally I lost all patience and just slugged her in the jaw, then picked her up bodily and dragged her into the store. More gunshots sounded as the guards fought the gunmen.
Lopaka’s voice rang in my mind, telling me to do what I was already doing. Celia, get her out of there. Keep her safe.
I kept my body between Adriana and any open space. The two remaining bodyguards seemed to be giving me some cover with their Kevlar-covered bodies. We passed the bloody form of the dying bridal consultant, her body riddled with bullets and shards of glass.
My cousin began to come back to her senses, which meant she was no longer dead weight, but it was still hard to move her. “Damn it, Adriana, come on. ” I was shouting, but since my ears were ringing from the gunfire, I assumed Adriana was similarly affected. I didn’t remember pulling a weapon, but there was a gun in my left hand. I dragged her past a pair of circular racks filled with a rainbow selection of floor-length gowns, toward the back door.
Then I saw movement and ducked, pulling her down with me, gesturing for her to hide in the dress racks and to stay absolutely silent. It was a bridal shop, so nearly all of the racks had floor-length gowns. Peeking around a gorgeous, slinky red silk I couldn’t wear on my best day, I saw a pair of men in business suits moving quickly but nearly silently through the store,
The others finished dressing long before I did; of course, none of them had to arm themselves. Most of the weaponry I was carrying, including the holster with my 1911 Colt, was concealed by the spells put on my tailored black blazer. Even with the armament, you couldn’t have faulted my fashion statement. I wore a red silk shell and new black jeans under the jacket; the Colt’s black leather holster perfectly matched my short black boots, one of which had a built-in holster for my derringer.
When I was finally ready, Queen Lopaka and her security detail led the bride and her bridesmaids out of the store, leaving the attendant spluttering in our wake. A black stretch limo pulled up to the curb as we flowed out of the building.
Adriana and I were the last to exit the shop, and I stopped abruptly when my boots hit the sidewalk. Something was wrong. I couldn’t have said what exactly was bothering me, but it didn’t matter.
“Down! Everybody down!” I screamed, swinging my arm out and snagging Adriana around the waist. I shoved her behind me, almost throwing her to the pavement, as I put myself between her and the roadway.
For a fraction of an instant, time seemed to slow drastically. More guards appeared, seeming to hover in midair as the queen’s eyes went wide. The back windows of the limo rolled down. Rifle barrels appeared. Natasha and Olga froze as members of the security team reached for them. The bridesmaids looked like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car—stunned and blank. Guns roared. Men and women screamed, glass shattered, and car doors slammed.
I got all this in fragments; I was busy trying to wrestle Adriana into the limited safety of the bridal shop when what she wanted was to rush to her mother’s side. I heard an engine roar and a squeal of tires as a second limo tore off into traffic. In the silence that fell I realized that Lopaka, Natasha, and Olga had been driven away, leaving me and my cousin alone with the gunmen. It’s not the way I would have done it, but I suppose it made sense—I was a bodyguard, and Adriana was my responsibility. It was actually sort of flattering that the Siren Secret Service presumed I’d get her to safety.
I tried to get her to calm down, saying, “They’re fine. I don’t smell blood behind me.” But Adriana kept struggling with me. I suspected she didn’t believe me—and she was right not to, because I was lying.
Finally I lost all patience and just slugged her in the jaw, then picked her up bodily and dragged her into the store. More gunshots sounded as the guards fought the gunmen.
Lopaka’s voice rang in my mind, telling me to do what I was already doing. Celia, get her out of there. Keep her safe.
I kept my body between Adriana and any open space. The two remaining bodyguards seemed to be giving me some cover with their Kevlar-covered bodies. We passed the bloody form of the dying bridal consultant, her body riddled with bullets and shards of glass.
My cousin began to come back to her senses, which meant she was no longer dead weight, but it was still hard to move her. “Damn it, Adriana, come on. ” I was shouting, but since my ears were ringing from the gunfire, I assumed Adriana was similarly affected. I didn’t remember pulling a weapon, but there was a gun in my left hand. I dragged her past a pair of circular racks filled with a rainbow selection of floor-length gowns, toward the back door.
Then I saw movement and ducked, pulling her down with me, gesturing for her to hide in the dress racks and to stay absolutely silent. It was a bridal shop, so nearly all of the racks had floor-length gowns. Peeking around a gorgeous, slinky red silk I couldn’t wear on my best day, I saw a pair of men in business suits moving quickly but nearly silently through the store,
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