Choosing Eternity by Bridget Essex

Author:Bridget Essex [Essex, Bridget]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

“Yeah, so, at this dance thing…there’s a danger that I might be killed. Sort of. Just a little danger,” I said, holding up my fingers and holding them apart about an inch. I gave her a sheepish smile. “So we’re getting married just in case anything happens, because the last time we tried to get married…I died before it could actually happen.”

I thought Gwen was going to tell me this was a terrible idea. She’s a spontaneous person, it’s true, but she also really, really enjoys planning big, fun parties. But she nodded thoughtfully after considering it for a long moment. “Yeah,” she sighed begrudgingly, “it makes sense.”

“And then Kane’s going to turn me into a vampire,” I continued with a huge smile, not skipping a beat.

Gwen stared at me, and then she flopped onto her back on the bed, laughing again with a slight hysterical edge to it. “Sure,” she finally said, brandishing her hands in the air. “Sure.” She turned and pressed her weight into an elbow, regarding me with a stern look. “But that doesn’t give me much time to give you a talk on the birds and bees, missy.”

“I’ve got that covered, thanks,” I said with a brow raised.

“Just remember,” said Gwen, brandishing a finger at me, “your wedding night is super special. So you’d better enjoy the hell out of it!”

“I’m going to try,” I said with a little shrug. “I mean…I don’t know what comes after it, is the problem.” I swallowed a little. My mouth was suddenly dry as the events of my death played back for me in slow motion in my mind.

That was a little tough to hold in my head…and wondering if something similar was going to happen to me tonight. Kane was right. Vampires weren’t immortal. They could be killed. And if Magdalena was angry enough, she could kill me…couldn’t she?

I had to try to stay in the moment, had to try to be as brave as possible.

My happiness was taken away from me once before.

I’d be damned if I let someone take it away again.

A brief, soft knock emanated from Gwen’s door. She gestured a hand toward it, and I nodded, rising, going to the door for her.

“Who is it?” I called.

“Bran.”

I opened the door, ushered her inside. For her part, Bran took a moment to make her way into the room.

She was dragging a large, ironbound trunk behind her. It looked like one of those old steamer trunks that luxurious actresses from the nineteen twenties might have used, though there were no port stamps or stickers along the sides. Rather, it was bound snugly with iron strips and padlocked with five different locks that I could count.

“Sorry it took me a little while—I had to drag this out of the attic,” Bran sighed, letting the trunk rest in the middle of the room and sagging against it. She took a handkerchief out of the breast pocket of her jacket and mopped her forehead as she gestured to the trunk.

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