Eve had her gown. It was red chiffon, and it fell in waves from a beaded bodice. Her arms were bare, and she hadn’t gone with a veil at all. The dress, Claire thought, made her look about six feet tall, and incredibly graceful, but it was shockingly not wedding wear.

Which was what Eve had wanted, of course.

Claire was wearing her best dress—one with buckles, one that Eve had bought for her—and high heels that were higher than anything she’d ever tried before. She felt awkward, until Shane looked at her, and then the feeling changed into something hot and proud.

“You promised,” she said to Father Joe. “You said that you’d do this if they wanted it. Well, they want it. We’re here. Official witnesses.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’m only warning you that what you’re doing may make complications you haven’t considered. For you all.”

“Don’t care,” Eve said. “We’re ready. And we’re not letting them stop us again.”

Michael was holding Eve’s hand, and although he wasn’t saying much, he was utterly still and solid and there. If he was scared, or worried, it didn’t show at all. He glowed like marble and gold, and for the first time in the light of the candles Claire noticed there were threads of copper in his hair, like his grandfather’s much redder hair. He even looked like Sam just now; Sam, the kindest and best of the vampires, who’d died at the hands of humans.

She hoped that wasn’t some kind of omen.

“Then let’s proceed,” Father Joe said. “Are there rings?”

Shane dug in his pocket and held it up—not the traditional diamond, Claire saw. Eve must have insisted on a ruby. And a skull.

“Then I suppose there’s no turning back. Let us pray,” Father Joe said, and bowed his head.

The door at the back of the church opened, admitting a burst of pure white sunlight, and out of it came four figures. Two were holding umbrellas to shade the others in front, and as they shut the doors behind them Claire recognized the ones in the back as Amelie’s security, dressed in their dark suits and glasses again.

Amelie was wearing white, a blinding white silk suit that tailored itself perfectly to her body. Her hair was up in a pale blond crown around her head, and she wore a ruby pendant in the hollow of her throat.

Oliver was next to her, wearing black leather.

“No,” Eve whispered. “No, not now …”

The vampires walked down the aisle and came to a halt a few feet away. Amelie’s eyes were wide and cool gray, no hints of red, at least. She was wearing white gloves to match her suit.

“What’s this?” she asked in a very neutral tone. “Father?”

“They’ve come before the altar to be joined in marriage,” he said, and for the first time Claire heard strength in his voice. Real strength. “They’re in the presence of God now, Amelie. And not under your control.”