The Wolves of London Book 2: The House of Striker

(Chapter song ‘Air on a G String’ by Johann Sebastian Bach, ‘tmrw’ by Jake Cornell)

ZEN

“I, Esmerelda Striker, take you, Avery Kirkland, as my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold. For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and honor till death do us part.” I smile and feel my cheeks flush.

“That was perfect, Miss.”

I look down to floor as Sara, one of the kitchen helpers, adjusts the train on my silk wedding gown. I look into the floor length mirrors around me. The wide skirt bunches and flows to the floor. The strapless, glittery bodice hugs my chest and soft pink fabric roses sit in the cradles of the silk bunches around the bottom. I feel the fabric as Sara stands and fiddles with the curls on my head and the flowers in my blonde hair.

“You think it was OK?” I’m so nervous, I recited my vows over and over for three days straight. I just know I’m going to screw it up.

“You were articulate and sweet.” She leans to me. “He may even tear up.” She grins and I chuckle.

“Avery Kirkland crying. That would be a sight to see.” I shake my head.

“The guests are being seated. The caterers are in the kitchen and the minister is talking with your mother. Other than that, everything is ready.” She says as she flips my veil down over my face. “I must say. I’ve seen the pictures of your mother on her wedding day. You are even more beautiful. Avery is a lucky man.”

I blush and turn to her. “Is he here?”

She looks to the door of my room. “I’m not sure. I can go check.”

“Please.” I smile.

He was supposed to text me when he got to the city yesterday. I have yet to receive any message. Now I’m worried the wendigo did something to him after all.

He used an alias for his plane ticket, I assume, because his name didn’t come up on any plane rosters and his GPS is shut off. Here we go again. Just have faith, Zen. He loves you.

“As you wish.” She bows slightly then leaves.

I pick up the front of my dress and walk to my open bedroom window. I look down to the large back property of the Striker mansion. My ancestors built this house from ground up and every Striker was married right there. Right in the middle of my great grandmother’s prized rose garden.

In the well manicured grass, four blocks of 50 white chairs each sat in a semi circle around an alter decorated with crinoline, ribbon and flowers.

Ushers filled the seats and people snapped pictures. The finest of the fine were here. My mother put her wealth to good use. She went all out. Not that I needed it. I could marry Avery in the woods with the animals as witnesses, but he wanted this. He loves big everything, so I comply.

The orchestras music drifts on the warm breeze and up to my window. It’s so beautiful, I could cry, but I’d ruin my make-up.

I look around at the men in black tuxes and white shirts. Not seeing my father down there hurts. He would have loved this. He was killed seven years ago in a vamp attack. Three years later, I took his seat on the High Council because my Uncle Michael didn’t want it. Being the only daughter, I agreed. Someone had to represent us. There’s no way I was letting the supernatural world go unchecked. For four years now, I’ve had to do a lot of checking. And there’s still a lot to do.

But for now, I won’t be thinking about that at all. Today I get married, then a wonderful two week honeymoon and then officially moving Avery in as my husband. My life is perfect.

More men in suits approach the alter and gather up the other men. I bite my lip and search them. My lips fall when I don’t see Avery.

Several men leave with others behind them and some stay back to talk to guests.

My brows pinch as I wonder what’s happening.

I turn and walk to my bed. I grab my coat and pull out my phone. I lift my veil and open up my texts. There’s still nothing.

YOU: Where are you?! Answer me?

I wait for a response.

YOU: Avery????

I drop my phone to my side and shove my dress to the side as I walk back to the window.

YOU: IF THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE, I’M NOT LAUGHING, KIRKLAND!

I watch the screen do nothing and look back out the window.

My bedroom door opens and I turn around.

Sara walks in looking nervous. “Um... Mr. Kirkland hasn’t arrived yet, Miss.”

I toss my phone on the bed and smile. “He’s probably held up. He’ll be here. I’ll just…go downstairs and wait.” I flop my arms out.

She nods. “Very good.” She motions to the door and I grab my flowers.

As I walk downstairs, I hold my head up. He’s stuck in traffic. I’m sure of it. He wouldn’t miss this for anything.

I walk to the parlor room and stand at the white French doors that lead to the stone patio and out to the garden. This is where I will make my appearance and see Avery's face when he sees me. It’s going to be magical.

I love him so much.

We met when was assigned to my team three years ago.

We were hunting a warlock. A nasty bastard. He was into blood magic and sacrificing virgins. What he was doing on the California coast, I have no clue.

Anyway, we had him cornered and he had me dead to rights. Avery swooped in like an action hero and saved the day. He killed the warlock and saved my life. It was love at first shot. We just clicked.

We didn’t want people knowing about us right away, so we would go on hunts together and grow our relationship. We were two peas in a pod.

The supernatural talk of some mate bond thing. If we had that, I’d be the first to admit, Avery is mine. It’s like we feel it in our souls. He's sweet, caring. Always attentive to my needs. He’s a wonderful protector. Not that I really need his protection, but in the few cases I did, I could count on him to be there for me.

When he proposed, I couldn’t say no. I was all in on us. I never thought of myself as a wife, but Avery makes me want to be his. And soon, I will be.

“He’ll be here. He’s coming.” I smile and let out a cleansing breath. “He's coming.”

“It was a lovely decorated wedding Susan. Give Esmerelda my love.”

“I will, Gladys. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry you flew all this way.”

“Don’t worry a hair. It was nice to see you again. We need to do this again.”

“Yes. With better results.”

I listen to the words of my great aunts and my mother out in the hall. I stand in the same spot, still waiting until I have to admit the ugly truth.

He's not coming.

My eyes sting. My lips frown. My bouquet hangs at my side. I watch people get up and walk away in confusion. I can see them talk and humiliation fills me. The minister talks with a few people and the ushers lead people away.

I feel the warm breeze on my skin as I fight breaking down.

“Darling?”

The sound of my mother’s heels on the marble floor doesn’t make me move from my spot. I’m frozen. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what my next move is.

“The guests are gone. The minister wants to know if you need him to stay… for someone to talk to.”

I stare out to the garden. The white ribbons tied to empty chairs blow gently in the breeze.

“No… Thank you.”

She walks closer.

“Esmerelda. I know you don’t want to hear this…”

My lips trembles. “You’re right. I don’t.”

I watch the staff carry off the large bouquets of flowers. Leaving the alter where my future was supposed to begin, empty.

“Sweetheart. It's probably for the best. He was never reliable.

I shake my head. “No… He promised.”

I hear her walk up behind me. “Clearly, it didn’t matter to him. One day, you'll realize he wasn’t right for you.”

A tear falls from my eye as I reach up and pull my veil off my head. My hand falls to my side and I let it go. The veil falls to the floor and billows around the bottom of my dress. My bouquet slips out of my fingers and hits the floor. Rose petals break off and spread across the floor.

I try to hold it together as I turn. She looks like an older version of me. Blonde hair, blue eyes and my height. She has this pity look on her face that only makes me angry. I take in a broken breath. “Or maybe I wasn’t right for him.”

I place my hand under my nose, pick up my dress and leave for my room.

“Esmer…”

My cheeks are wet when I get to my room. I stride to my bed, slam my but down on it and pick up my phone.

I dial him and put it to my ear.

‘I'm sorry. The mailbox you’re trying to reach is full. Please try again later.’

I lean on my knees, hold my head and cry as I drop my phone. I take a deep breath, sit up and dial my phone again. I stand and pace around my floor.

‘Zen.’

“Did you find anything?” I choke.

‘He left, Zen. His accounts, apartment and storage. All emptied. Security cameras had a woman at the bank and his apartment. She got into his car, but we couldn’t confirm if he was driving.’

My eyes fill with tears and I choke them back.

‘Zen… I'm sorry.’

“Thanks.” I whisper and hang up.

I drop the phone on the floor, crawl on my bed and let it all out.

He couldn’t even say goodbye to my face. Just ran off with some woman with no intention of telling me why.

I feel my heart shatter and I feel sick. As my pain rises, I can only think one thing.

He's a dead man.