THE LITTLE FLOAT CAREENED AROUND THE CORNER, TIRES squealing, and screeched to a halt in front of the office tower that housed the city's various bureaucracies. The building was a gray, uninspired, all-purpose government structure. You could pay your taxes on the second floor, sign a Marriage of Convenience contract on the fourth, and report for your court appearance on the fifth.
From her position in the front seat, Sierra could see a small cluster of people gathered at the entrance. Ivor Runtley, Kay, Matt, and Phil were clustered around Fontana and a second, dark-haired, dark-eyed man she recognized from news photos. Ray Takashima was the newly appointed head of the Crystal City Guild's Security Department. Like Fontana, he had seemingly materialized out of nowhere a couple of years ago and moved up fast within the organization.
"Damn," Simon said. "Fontana's already here. That makes us officially late."
"It's okay," Jeff said. He was in the backseat, squashed between Mitch and Andy. The rear of the Float had not been designed to carry three burly hunters. "We've got the bride. Brides are allowed to be late."
"Way I hear it, nobody is late for an appointment with Fontana," Andy put in ominously. "At least not more than once."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, don't worry about it," Sierra said. "It's just an MC. Besides, we've got a really good excuse."
"Right, the Riders," Andy said, brightening. "Maybe Fontana will buy it."
"It's not as though he has a choice," Sierra said coolly. The hunters' awe of Fontana was starting to become very irritating.
"Everyone out," Simon ordered. "There's no room to park on the street. I'll leave the car in the city garage and join you in a few minutes."
Sierra popped open the passenger door and climbed out cautiously on her broken heel. Elvis perched on her shoulder, still buzzing with excitement after the wild ride from the Quarter.
Phil detached himself from the group at the entrance and rushed toward the Float. He raised his camera into position as he ran.
Fontana followed him very deliberately. He was dressed in the black jacket, shirt, and trousers he'd worn earlier in the day. The expression on his hard face was unreadable, but that didn't stop Sierra's intuitive senses. She was suddenly fully rezzed, just as she had been that morning when she was shown into Fontana's office at Guild headquarters.
Get a grip, woman. There was nothing personal about any of this. Fontana planned to use her just as she planned to use him. This was all about finding out what had happened to those missing men. She had to stay focused.
She stood precariously balanced on her one good heel and waited for Jeff, Mitch, and Andy to squeeze out of the tiny backseat.
"Cool," Phil said, rezzing his camera again and again. "This is like one of those little cars at the circus that are filled with clowns."
Jeff squinted at Phil. "Who are you calling a clown, son?"
"Sorry," Phil said, firing off more shots. "Slip of the tongue. Sierra, turn this way. Chin up, that's right. Now smile. You're supposed to look like you're in love, not like you're going to a funeral."
Fontana arrived. "Let's save the photo ops for later," he said.
It was not a suggestion. Sierra was amazed to see Phil actually lower his camera. Fontana took Sierra's arm.
"Apologies for the delay, sir," Simon said, leaning forward to speak to Fontana through the open door of the Float. "Sierra had a little problem. The guys can explain it."
"Let's hope so." Fontana surveyed Sierra. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she managed, pleased that she sounded relatively calm in spite of her skittering senses. "How bad do I look?"
It dawned on her that she had not checked a full-length mirror since the fall in the street and the mad dash to safety in the Green Gate. She probably appeared somewhat the worse for wear.
"I don't care how it looks," Fontana said. "I'm asking about the damage."
"Oh." She noticed that her glasses were slightly crooked. She adjusted them and then looked down at her muddied coat. In the process she saw that her stockings were shredded. "A couple of bruises, I think, and my shoe is ruined, but that's about it."
"What happened?" he asked.
"It's a long story," she said. "I'll tell you later."
"I want the story now," he said quietly.
He probably couldn't help that air of command, she thought. Nevertheless, she was not in the mood for it.
"In case you haven't noticed," she said, "everyone's waiting for us."
That information did not seem to register. Fontana made no move to steer her toward the waiting onlookers.
Andy cleared his throat. "Couple of Night Riders tried to grab her purse in front of her apartment building, boss. She took a nasty fall in the street."
"We ran the bastards off with a few ghosts," Mitch explained.
"Don't worry," Jeff said. "They won't be back anytime soon. We explained to them that Jade Street is hunter territory."
Sierra blinked. "Well, what do you know. Guess it was a short story, after all. Could have sworn it would take longer to tell it."
Fontana tightened his grip on her arm. She winced and sucked in a sharp breath.
"What?" he said, loosening his grasp.
"That's the side I fell on when I tripped," she explained. "It's a little sore."
He released her swiftly and took her other arm. This time his hand closed around her with a tenderness that surprised her.
"Are you certain that they were Night Riders?" he asked.
"Or a good imitation thereof," she said dryly. "They were in full costume. Black helmets and lots of black leather."
"And big black Wave bikes," Jeff volunteered. "They're a Rider trademark."
Fontana looked at the four men. "I owe each of you, gentlemen. Anytime. Anywhere."
It was a somber vow. Jeff, Mitch, Simon, and Andy accepted it as such. The new Guild boss had openly declared himself in their debt. Sierra knew enough about Guild tradition to realize that was a very big deal. The four men had just been given the right to call on the most powerful man in the organization for a favor at any time in the future.
"Glad to be able to help out," Jeff said. "Sierra's a friend of ours."
Fontana nodded. He looked as if he wanted to discuss the matter further and in depth, but to Sierra's surprise, he shot a quick glance at his watch.
"We're due in the registrar's office," he said. "I'll look into this later."
Startled by the hard edge on the words, Sierra pushed her glasses higher on her nose.
"It was just an attempted purse snatching," she said. "The cops almost never pick up those kinds of criminals, not unless they're caught red-handed."
"There are other sources besides the police," Fontana said evenly.
A chill went down her spine, but before she could ask any questions, he steered her toward the entrance where her colleagues were waiting.
Fontana nodded at Ray Takashima, who also wore the Guild exec black.
"Ray, I'd like you to meet my future wife, Sierra McIntyre," Fontana said. "Sierra, this is Ray Takashima He's a friend of mine."
"How do you do, Mr. Takashima?" She extended her hand. "I've seen you on the evening news a couple of times."
Ray gave her an easy, friendly smile that totally belied the power she knew that he wielded.
"A pleasure, Miss McIntyre, and please call me Ray," he said. He eyed Elvis. "Is that a dust bunny?"
"Yes," she said. "His name is Elvis."
"Didn't know they made good pets."
"They don't. Elvis is a companion, not a pet."
"Got it," Ray said. "I hope you don't mind me attending your wedding. Figured Fontana might need someone to prop him up in case he got a bad case of nerves. His first MC, you know."
"Yes, I know," she said without stopping to think. "I checked out the public records."
Ray laughed. "Watch your step, Fontana, you're marrying a journalist. That means she knows how to do research."
She had been a little amazed that there were no Marriages of Convenience cluttering up Fontana's past. At his age, it would not have been at all out of the ordinary for him to have been involved in a least a couple. As a group, Guild men were known to be somewhat reckless when it came to their love lives. When they did finally settle down into Covenant Marriages, they tended to marry within the Guild. Perhaps Fontana preferred the freedom that came with casual affairs.
That thought gave her a bit of a start. From what she had been able to discover in her hurried background check, Fontana had been unusually discreet in his private life. She had not uncovered any hint of a current mistress, but that didn't mean there wasn't one. If a mystery woman existed, she probably wasn't too excited about the prospect of Fontana entering into an MC with some other woman, even if the arrangement was strictly business.
Ivor Runtley frowned at her. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Long story," Sierra said again. "At least, it seemed like it at the time."
"You look like you got hit by a bus," Matt offered helpfully.
She gave him a dazzling smile. "Gee, thanks, Matt. You really know how to boost a girl's spirits."
"Forget him." Kay grabbed her hand. "Come on, we've got to get you to the ladies' room and perform some running repairs."
"Not now," Fontana said, opening the front door. "We're late enough as it is. Let's get this done. You can clean her up later."
Sierra walked into the lobby, swung around to face him, and dug in her one unbroken heel.
" Let's get this done'?" she repeated ominously.
Ray winked at her. "As you can see, Fontana has the soul of a true romantic."
Sierra raised her chin. "I want to stop at the ladies' room first."
"Of course she does," Kay said. She lifted Elvis down from Sierra's shoulder and handed him to Matt. "Here, you take the King. We'll meet you all at the registrar's office on the fourth floor."
She whisked Sierra toward the nearest elevator.
"No, wait," Sierra said quickly.
"Right, sorry," Kay said. "Forgot about your claustrophobia."
She altered course, dragging Sierra toward the stairwell. The last thing Sierra saw before she limped up the stairs was the expression on Fontana's face. He didn't look angry, she thought, or even annoyed. He looked bemused.
"I get the impression that Fontana isn't used to having someone contradict his orders," Kay observed, pausing to catch her breath.
"I get that impression, too," Sierra said.
When they reached the fourth floor, Kay led the way into the room marked Ladies.
"Take off your coat," she said. "Let's see what we've got to work with."
Obediently Sierra slipped off the mud-splattered coat.
Kay's eyes widened with dazed horror. "Sierra McIntyre, tell me you did not wearblack to your own wedding."
Baffled, Sierra looked down at the demure, long-sleeved black dress. "What's wrong with it?"
"This is a wedding, not a funeral," Kay wailed.
"The groom is in black," Sierra said, feeling on the defensive.
"So what? It's okay for the groom to wear black. Oh, never mind. Too late now. But just wait until you see what this looks like in tomorrow's edition of the Curtain. You are going to be so sorry."
"Why?"
"I can see the headline now. 'New Guild Boss and Mystery Woman Wed in Secret Alien Vampire Ceremony;»
Sierra narrowed her eyes. "If the word vampire appears in that headline, I promise you, there will be vengeance."
"I dunno," Kay said seriously, "sounds like a grabber to me."
Simon was just stepping out of the elevator when they emerged from the ladies' room.
"Great," he said. "You waited for me." He offered Sierra his arm and gave her a surprisingly graceful little bow. "Allow me to escort the bride."
"Thank you," she said.
The staff in the registrar's office was in a state of near-giddy excitement. Guild bosses were always high profile, and Fontana qualified as a celebrity. The fact that the crew of the Curtain had shown up to cover the wedding heightened the thrill factor for everyone. Phil took pictures as fast as he could rez his camera.
Elvis also created a small sensation.
"Look at the little dust bunny," a clerk cooed. "Isn't he just the cutest thing?"
"That little cape is absolutely adorable," another staff member said.
Never one to miss a moment in the spotlight, Elvis posed on the counter.
"No offense," Kay muttered to Sierra, "but he looks better than you do."
"Well, sure," Sierra said. "He's Elvis."
There was more paperwork than she had expected, and now that the adrenaline had worn off, she was starting to feel the bruising from her fall. Her left arm and shoulder were going to be very colorful in the morning.
When she had to tear up one of the forms because she'd put down her old address in Resonance instead of her new one in Crystal, she realized she was grinding her teeth.
She could not help but notice that Fontana did not appear to be having any difficulties with his forms. No do-overs for a Guild boss.
Eventually they got to the final stretch. The judge introduced herself as Maryann Partridge and, like the registrar's staff, seemed absolutely delighted to perform the civil ceremony for the new Guild chief.
Using the buzz of conversation as cover, Sierra leaned over to whisper in Kay's ear, "Why is everyone acting as if this is some kind of major romantic event?" she asked. "These people do Marriages of Convenience day in and day out. They know better than anyone that they're nothing more than short-term affairs dignified by some legal trappings."
Kay looked genuinely shocked. "That's not true. They're real weddings."
Sierra started to argue but stopped when she realized that a hush had fallen over the room and that everyone was looking at her.
Kay scooped up Elvis and held him as though he were a bridal bouquet while Judge Partridge launched into the ceremony.
"If I may have the rings," Partridge said brightly.
Sierra started violently. She had not given any thought to rings. Traditionally, silver rings were used in Marriages of Convenience. Gold was reserved for Covenant Marriages.
"I don't have a ring," she said.
Fontana seemed briefly amused by her anxiety.
"I have one," he said.
He removed his black and amber seal ring. She watched, a little shocked, as he slipped it onto her finger. It was much too big and far too heavy. Automatically, she closed her hand very tightly so that it wouldn't fall off.
Just a Marriage of Convenience. Don't panic.
The list of vows was shorter, more succinct, and a good deal less binding than those spoken at the more lengthy Covenant Marriage service. They were also a lot more businesslike. Nevertheless, Sierra got a small chill when she listened to herself repeat them to Fontana.
"I promise to remain faithful so long as we both are bound by this agreement…
"I promise to honor and respect our commitment to each other so long as we both are bound by this agreement…
"I understand that all worldly goods that belong to me prior to this agreement are my sole possessions and will remain my sole possessions when this agreement is ended…
"I understand that if a child is born of this union, that this agreement will immediately become a full and binding Covenant Marriage agreement subject to all the laws and regulations pertaining thereunto…"
At last it was over. Sierra took a deep breath. She felt a trifle unsteady and not because of her broken heel. What in the world had she just done for the sake of the story of the decade?
"You may kiss the bride," Judge Partridge announced, beaming at Fontana.
Sierra felt all the air leave her lungs. Should have seen that coming.
It was too late to figure out a polite way to finesse the situation. The relentlessly cheerful crowd expected the traditional conclusion to the wedding ceremony. Fontana was already pulling her into his arms.
At his touch, she went still. The exciting whispers of energy that she had been trying to suppress suddenly flared into an intoxicating rush. A shiver of anticipation swept through her. This intense reaction was crazy. It was the result of the aftereffects of all the excitement. There was no other explanation.
Amusement and a shocking, mesmerizing heat gleamed in his eyes.
"Brace yourself, my dear, and think of Earth," he whispered for her ears alone.
The old joke elicited an unexpected burble of laughter from somewhere inside her.
And then he was kissing her, a slow, drugging, claim-staking kiss that slammed all of her senses into overdrive. She forgot that they had an audience. His mouth was the best thing she had ever tasted in her entire life, and she wanted more, a lot more. He responded by tightening his grip on her, crushing her against the broad, solid wall of his chest.
Sparkling thrills chased down her spine. Deliciously hot currents swirled. Liquid warmth pooled deep inside her. Somewhere out on the paranormal plane, energy flashed. Her psychic intuition did the happy dance.
Applause and cheering broke out, shattering the crystalline aura of intimacy into a million fragments. Reality came crashing back.
Dazed, Sierra opened her eyes. She was still pressed tightly against Fontana, but he was no longer kissing her.
"You can let him go now, Sierra," Phil called loudly. "I've got plenty of good shots."
Laughter splashed through the registrar's office.
She was stunned to discover that her arms had somehow wound themselves around Fontana's neck. She was holding on to him as though she were lost in the catacombs and he was her amber compass, as if she dared not let him go for fear of being lost forever.
Mortified, she released him and took a hasty step back, grabbing the edge of the counter to steady herself on her broken pump.
Immediately the hunters moved in on Fontana to shake his hand.
"Congratulations, sir," Simon said. "You're getting a real gutsy lady here. Good choice for a Guild boss's wife."
"And she can cook," Jeff added helpfully. "Wait until you try her chocolate chip cookies."
Fontana winked at Sierra. "I'll look forward to the experience."
He seemed more relaxed now that the business had been concluded. Fontana was not what anyone would call a jubilant bridegroom, Sierra thought, but he was definitely less grim. She groped for the right word and finally found it. He looked satisfied, the way a chess player would be after making an important move in a complicated strategy. In spite of the stress and the disorientation produced by the sizzling kiss, her intuition took note.
Coaxing her into this fake marriage had been important to him, perhaps even more important than she had realized. It was enough to make her wonder if maybe he had not told her everything concerning his plan for them to work as a team. The possibility that he considered her a useful pawn, not an equal partner, was disturbing. It was also infuriating.
Kay led the small group out of the registrar's office and down the stairs.
"Listen up, everyone," she announced when they reached the lobby "You're all invited back to the offices of the Curtain. It's not every day someone on the staff gets married. We're going to party. We've got cheap bubbly. We've got cheap food. We've got balloons."
"Are you inviting us, too?" Simon asked, angling his chin at Mitch, Jeff, and Andy.
"Of course," Kay said. She spread her arms wide. "You're all invited. Can't let a member of the Curtain get married without a major celebration."
Sierra glanced at Fontana, waiting for him to make some excuse to avoid the party. What would it be? she wondered. Got to get back to the office. Got a late meeting. Got a dinner engagement with the mayor. Got a date with the woman I'm sleeping with.
For some reason that last possibility robbed the moment of all amusement.
Fontana's mouth curved faintly, as though he knew precisely what she was thinking.
"Sounds like a great idea," he said, his eyes on Sierra. "A man ought to celebrate his own wedding."