Chapter Fifteen

" H ey, Dad."

"Hey, son! Did you see your brother's video? One-tenth of a second away from breaking a Penn State record. Could be we'll need tickets for the 2028 Olympics for track and swimming events, hm?"

Both of my brothers have social media channels devoted to their athletic careers—it's a thing college athletes do now. They collab with people who make protein bars and sneakers, swim caps, and pre-workout wheatgrass stuff. They also post about their workouts and highlights of their meets. "I saw. He looks good. And um... that would be great. 2028 in LA! Let's go!" I'm stalling.

But this might be the perfect introduction... "I think I'll be needing two tickets, Dad."

"Oh?" I can hear the suspicion in his voice.

"One for me, one for Marina. She's my endgame, Dad. The one . But don't tell Mom I'm talking about something long-term. This is between the Bailey Boys right now."

Bringing up the Bailey Boys is like using Dad's wake word. I can practically see him reliving the days he told Mom he was taking us to the museum and instead took us for greasy burgers and the arcade, or the days when we were home sick from school and he ordered pizza and watched scary movies with us instead of keeping us in bed and giving us the toast and juice he was supposed to.

"Boys only, huh?"

"Just for now."

"Marina. Pretty name. Son, you've only lived up there for a little over a month. How long have you known her?"

"A month."

"She's a fast mover."

"I made the first moves. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. God, she's... Gorgeous. Sweet. Brave. Otherworldly." That's damn accurate, too.

"Damn, son. Bitten by all the love bugs. Just don't get too crazy, too fast."

"Oh, it's too late for that. She's the one. Bringing her home for Thanksgiving." I swallow hard as I walk back to the health annex entrance, lunch break over. What if this doesn't work? What if I lose her? How can I ever celebrate anything ever again without her? Am I stupid to tell Dad to expect her for Thanksgiving?

I can't lose her. If she doesn't turn up for family dinners, it's because I won't be there to bring her.

Death and demons being so close, so real—it messes with me for a minute. Ice fills my stomach. Tomorrow night is the night of our "ceremony," but that's not what scares me. It scares me to know that I could lose her. "I'm getting her a promise ring." It'll hold until we can call it an engagement ring, until we can put a wedding ring on top of it, too. "And you can just have an extra plate ready from now on. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, all of it."

Dad's voice turns into a firm rumble. "Slow down, Kev."

"May wedding," I say.

God damn it. I'm not being smart right now.

I'm doubling down, and I never gamble.

Marina's not a gamble. She's a risk worth taking.

"Son. Kev—"

"No matter what, I love her. No matter what happens." My voice is serious.

"Okay, okay! You're a grown man. You were never the wild one. Never tried to take two dates to the prom and keep ‘em from finding out about each other."

"You knew about that?" I hiss.

"You think we didn't know that your brothers were a handful and half? That you were the level-headed one leading a pack of tornadoes? Naw, son. We knew. Also, I think you're making a mistake saying ‘Don't tell Mom.' Kevin, your mother has had your back every step of your life."

That's code for "She's tailing me like an FBI agent." I'm smart enough not to say that out loud.

"If she gets into your business, it's because she doesn't know any other way not to let you get hurt. When your brothers get hurt on the track or in the pool—pulled muscles, sprains, torn tendons—that's physical. She can help with that. She's a damn fine nurse. She can see that kind of hurt. When her first baby boy goes out and starts looking for a girl to give his heart to, of course she's going to be overprotective. She can't see if they hurt you. She wouldn't know how to put a compression wrap on that kind of injury."

I kick a rock in the entranceway of the annex. "Guilt trip much, Dad?"

"Deserved."

"Geez."

"The way you are so smitten with Marina is no different than how smitten your mother is with her three babies. Not in the same way, but that same intensity. Ain't no one loves you like a mother. I'm sure Marina's parents feel the same."

"Her mother died. No dad in the picture," I blurt. I don't fully understand supernatural family dynamics myself. I'm sure as heck not going to try to explain them to my dad.

My dad is silent, then lets out a shaky laugh. "I'm taking the bus to Hell for saying this, but good—for you."

"What?!"

My father's voice holds an exasperated, amused note. "Your mother has always wanted a daughter. Can you imagine what's going to happen when you bring her home some pretty little thing to love on and fuss over? And planning this May wedding? When there's no mother-in-law to compete with, and your mom can take your girl shopping and get their nails done together? Damn, son. That's terrible about her family, but you have no idea how much in-law drama you just saved yourself from."

"That is terrible—but I think you've got a point about Mom. And Marina—Marina would love someone to love her like Mom loves me." My voice is thick. I think of Big K—in my head, it's Big Fat Bastard K—and I think that my dad is lucky he doesn't know about the "in-law" drama that'll be unleashed in two weeks.

"MAYBE WE SHOULD CALL Emmy Van Helsing?" suggested Alban Wymark, the tall, handsome warlock with a head of perfect brunette waves. "Her family knows how to hunt demons—no offense, Marina."

I pace in Minegold's living room. "I am sure she knows how to kill vampires—sorry, Jakob—"

"Don't apologize, and hold still."

Janet yanks me back down onto the couch and pulls my hand back onto the small tray table set between us. "Stay still, or your nails will never get finished. What do you think?"

I admire the subtle white-capped waves on the tips of my blush pink nails. "Very thematic," I mutter weakly, "but we have more important things to worry about than my promise ceremony. We have to figure out how to kill an ancient regenerating demon. It'd be so much easier if it were just an ordinary necromancer or warlock enslaving me—no offense, Alban."

"Can all of us agree that no one means to offend anyone and get on with it?" Jakob snaps. He drops a heavy, tattered book in Russian into my lap. "The Bone Lord will cycle, reborn and fading, until the sound of the last trump, or until the black knight's horse of great power tramples him to dust."

"Get that cop. The pooka? He can turn into a black horse," Janet says, affixing a single sparkling blue gem to my ring finger.

"I suppose Ardy might do the trick... It's rather risky, though." Alban chews his lower lip. "He's my brother-in-law. Harper and Izzy will kill me if he gets hurt. He's only half-Pooka, you know."

"Call Van Helsing. Call the cops. Call all the witches and their black cats and brooms. What do I do? After all, Marina's problems are my problems, too—or they will be in a little bit."

"Kevin!" I jump up from the sofa, and Janet curses at me. "You're not supposed to be here yet!" I look at the grandfather clock in the midst of the ornate formal living room. Minegold's house is a strange mix of the archaic and the historical, topped off with several areas set up for when he takes care of his "grandson" that look like a baby superstore blew up. f "We said the ceremony was at eight! It's bad luck to..."

See the bride? I'm not a bride. It's bad luck to join himself to me. If I told him I didn't love him, if I told him to go, he'd leave. He'd be safe. Years and years of lying to men—why do I grow an honest streak now?

Kev shrugs and saunters in, adjusting the collar on a loosely buttoned white shirt under a charcoal blazer. He looks divine. Edible. "You're enslaved to some mobster demon who pimps out his daughters and wants to add you to his list of ‘handmaids.' The luck is bad enough, baby. I'm here to push it the other way." Kev looks at Minegold. "Your front door was unlocked. Isn't that kind of stupid in this town?"

Jakob gives him a freezing smile, long fangs shimmering into his mouth as his eyes turn blood red. "Perhaps. But don't you think any little intruder who wanders into my home would be the foolish one?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

Kev looks around at that assembled group. Janet is the only non-magical human in the bunch. "That's fair," he says, squinting at her. "Hi, I'm Kev. What's your superpower?"

Janet caps her bottle of blush pink polish and rises, patting the little black and hot pink bag on the tray. "Ex-Army. I know seventy ways to kill someone with whatever's in my manicurist kit—more if I have time to make a list."

"Ooooh—kay. Well. I stumbled into all the spooky dangerous shit, didn't I?"

Janet gives me a nudge forward, causing me to stumble into his arms. "It grows on you."

Kev's head tilts as he hugs me with his chin on my head. The feel of his breathing and the sound of his voice so close to my ear instantly calms me. "Some of it, sure."

Janet pats his arm in passing, voice dropping as she winks. "Tentacles and suction cups. We're the luckiest humans in Pine Ridge. It's worth the hassle of dealing with putting in an in-ground pool and a closed-in porch with a hot tub. I'll be back with Calder in about an hour. Marina—don't do anything with your hands for another twenty minutes!"

"If we could focus, please?" Alban taps the book and waves his phone around as Janet shuffles out of the room. "I'm texting Ardy. He thinks the verse could apply to him. He's a modern-day knight—defender of the realm, you know?"

"Wait, a knight?" Kev looks down at me and I shrug. "My Queen." He mouths the words while tracing his fingers over my face. "Aren't I your knight?"

I nod, then shake my head. "It's an old, old tale about Koshchei, The Bone Lord, the Undying One. Nothing for you to worry about, darling. Only fairy tales."

Kev crosses his arms, letting go of me with a huff. "Says the badass little mermaid?"

Jakob steps in, holding out a glass of wine as he strides from his sideboard to Kevin. "The tale would refer to a literal knight and a powerful horse. There's so much truth in fairytales—but I'm afraid Marina is not in the position to elevate you to the status of ‘knight' in the literal sense. You are far better than a knight. You are the king of her heart, yes, indeed." He presses the wine into Kev's hand, and my lover reluctantly takes it.

"That's wine for people, right? Not wine from people?"

"As long as you behave," Jakob teases.

"Jakob!" I squawk.

"Uh... Here, honey. I'm driving." Kevin passes me the glass and gives Minegold a long, appraising look. "Now, if you had a cheese plate going around..."

Jakob's eyes light up. "I was saving it for an impromptu reception, but—"

It's my time to speak up. "Maybe we can save my life first and have the cheeseboard second?" I look between the three men in the room. "I think that Ardy is the closest thing we have to a knight. Knights serve and defend the kingdom, and he's a police officer, defending our town. Not to mention, he is the only one I know off the top of my head who can turn into a horse." I ignore Kev's startled snort. "I'm just wondering something."

"What is it, my dear?" Minegold asks in his sonorous, solicitous voice.

My eyes cloud as the thoughts weave together slowly, misty little hints that have been too difficult to knit together in all the chaos and panic of the week finally settling into place as I prepare to bind my soul to Kev's.

Could that sacred act solve more than one problem? "Koshchei is draining the few rusalka who still exist in an effort to rise now, many years before he should—but he cannot rise until the night of the Hunter's Moon."

"That has typically been the case, according to many legends as well as what you've told us." Jakob nods.

"If there are so few of us left, his food source may run out before the Hunter's Moon. He may not have the strength to rise anytime soon—and once my soul is tied to Kev's, then there will be nothing for him to rise for. There will be no one left for him to control."

"You can't know that. You don't have tabs on every single rusalka remaining in the world. There might be others like you, those who have changed and are living in hiding, outcasts," Jakob whispers, thin graying brows pressed together on his aristocratic forehead.

"Darya seemed very certain, and she and the sisters who still lived near her seemed very sure of my fate—and theirs." I shudder. Sadness mixes with a feeling of hope. Maybe Kev won't be in harm's way. Maybe none of us will. But that also means that I'm already the last of my kind. If Koshchei never arrives, then there will never be another rusalka in this world after I pass... and in spite of all the ugly death we bring, the way Kev loves me, the way I've changed... The way I gave up everything I knew for Gregor... Such things make me wonder if rusalka could be beautiful things. Good things.

"You have to have a plan either way, baby." Kev takes my hand. His face is somber.

"You believe I'm something good, don't you?" I whisper.

"The very best." He smiles and blinks, something glimmering in his dark brown eyes.

"And without me—without Koshchei—there will never be another like me." I twist my fingers anxiously, long white and pink twigs sliding from Kevin's grasp. "Maybe I should—"

Kev startles me into silence when he drops down to the Persian carpet, landing on one knee with a thud that rattles the fancy ornaments that line the mantlepiece. "Marina... Marina." His voice shakes, then steadies as he claims my hand again. "I cannot breathe without you. You need water? I need you . You are my rain. My river. Every drop of water that I need to live and the oxygen I need to breathe. I need you in my life. You are too precious to be given to some demon who would just use you to make more slaves for himself. You are too good for him, too good for me, and too good to be the last of your kind, but baby..." He rises when I pull him, shaking his head as his eyes overflow, "Sometimes they save the best for last. If you are that last magical, mystical rusalka, that last badass mermaid... Let me be with you until it ends."

My brain understands every word he said, but I cannot believe that such beautiful words can be for me. Something small and cold slides over my finger and clings to the surface of my skin.

Ring. Anchor. Water is only half of our life—we cannot live without it, but we need the humans that dwell on the shore, too.

My hand presses to Kev's cheek, thumb wiping away tears. Tears he makes, water a human makes, that Kev can create—because of me. He's mine. "You are my life. My breath. My shore." I flow into his arms, into his kiss. It's one of those messy, desperate ones, where mouths only meet once, and then you're clinging to one another, faces buried in necks.

"Don't leave me, okay?" he whispers.

My shoulders convulse with a sudden burst of silent tears. All of my life, I have had to go, to hide and not show people who I really am. Only one other I stayed for...

And he was stolen from me.

Now someone begs me to stay. Someone fights to keep me with him, to keep us together.

My fingers dig into Kev's shirt, and I swear. "I won't. Always with you."

Long moments pass. The room emptied while we were speaking, but I hear soft footsteps in the hall and an even softer cough in the doorway.

"It's time." I wipe my eyes and actually look at the ring for the first time. White gold. Studded with tiny sapphires set in the band. "Oh, Kev! It's beautiful."

"Like my girl. Um. The guy at the jewelry shop said it's called an eternity band—and um—yeah. I thought it was the right one for us."

I love how he says "for us."

"Sorry I lost it there for a second." Kev coughs and tugs on his collar.

"I don't think you lost anything. You found me." I put my hand firmly in his and ignore the trembling in my legs and the swirling in my stomach. "When this is done, I'm taking you somewhere special."

"Ooh. Well, then. Let's go do this."

WE STAND INSIDE A CIRCLE of seven, which makes me feel better. I was afraid there was going to be a pentagram involved, and no disrespect to Marina's heritage, but I didn't want to summon any demons.

Calder and Janet, Minegold, Alban, short, steel-haired Madge, pregnant redhead Tess, and aging blonde forest goddess Farrah Fenclan make up this ring, but Calder and Janet are just there because they're Marina's best friends. I wonder if I should have asked Cal to drive up from Penn State. It is the weekend, after all. Or I could have asked Ingrid from work, she's pretty chill.

What the hell am I saying? Cal would have told my parents to have me committed—especially once the wizarding woohoo started.

Calder and Janet step back after Minegold places an old book in Marina's hands.

Well, hell. Now there are five of them. I try not to freak as I check the floor to see if any lines of flame start to appear. Nope. Just calm, expensive carpets.

"Let powers bear witness," Farrah's voice almost makes me jump out of my skin. It's not the light, pleasant tones I heard earlier, but a deep, resonant tone that's far too big for her slim, willowy body.

"And powers bind," Alban takes a verse.

Wait, is this a spell ? No one's whipping out any wands... Are magical powers real, too?

Like, I get the point of me being here and reading these words with an audience has something to do with magical creatures but... I don't know, my mind gives one of those long, jagged screeches like a retro record player's needle on vinyl. Magical creatures my medical mind can kind of get, like those who have different colors of skins or bodily appendages—I can think of some DNA gone haywire or something.

But words? Just saying words? I don't know. That should still be normal, even in this crazy funhouse town I've fallen into.

"And powers ever be unbroken." Gray-haired Madge glares me down, her words whipping me out of my two-second mental sprint, and daring me to run—or lie.

Nope, old witch. I'm staying. Let your words do your thing. I take Marina's face in the palm of my hand, momentarily diverting her gaze from the book.

"Love you," she mouths.

"Love you, baby," I mouth back, freak out fleeing.

"Powers guard these two lovers—" Jakob Minegold dabs his eyes and smiles at Marina as she nuzzles her cheek deeper into my palm.

"And their vows truly spoken." Tessa, the meek little pregnant thing, is suddenly a glowing white goddess, looking like she swallowed lighting, all white irises and hair flying back from her head as she claps her hands together and a circle of ultraviolet blue snaps and sparkles to life around Marina and I, trapping us in the eye of a magical storm.

Damn. I hope we don't have to pay for the carpeting. That's the totally wrong thought I suddenly have—but it goes away when Marina's eyes open and look into mine.

"If you say this—there is nothing you can do to separate us. Ever. Not now, not in the afterlife. Please—" Her voice holds one last breathless warning.

Maybe she needs water.

Maybe I need to kiss the air back into her lungs.

My voice has never been so rock solid and sure, low and firm, like I'm telling God and the devil and everyone in between that Marina is mine.

The words seem to stand out on the old faded pages, black and scrawling, flowing right from my lips. "In life and death, to you I bind myself, heart and soul. Ever tethered and never to part, I name thee keeper of soul and heart."

Say it back, baby. I dare you.

Marina gasp-chokes, like someone just unplugged her airway, and her words are said with wide, incredulous eyes, her fingers sliding across my shoulders as she leaves the book in my hands. "In life and death, to you I bind myself, heart and soul. Ever tethered and never to part, I name thee keeper of soul and heart."

I think this is where the minister would say kiss the bride, but this isn't a wedding (exactly), and my entire instructions for the night were "Stand here" and "Read this." Doesn't matter. I know what to do.

Blue flames flare up around us as our mouths crash together. I can feel Marina's long tongue twisting and stroking around mine, sending shockwaves down my spine and awakening a piece of me that ought to be dormant until we're alone.

Flames. Monster bride. Floating, glowing lady in the circle. Vampire weeping into a hanky.

Should be scared, but I'm not. Just thankful. Relieved.

Nothing's gonna take my girl away now.