Love & Exorcisms | 18+ | COMPLETE |

- Epilogue -

We had awoken before the dawn.

Amma helped me into my dress: pure white, with delicate beading and lace about the bodice. She took care to ease it over my wounds. The stitches were gone but the flesh was still tender. Genevieve and Mary-Anne laced my corset, while Liza pinned flowers in my hair. Mary-Anne was sniffling.

“You look so beautiful, Samara,” she wept.

“Oh don’t fuss,” Liza scolded. “You’ll make your eyes all red.”

Amma turned the mirror to me, and I held my breath. I hardly recognized myself. I was a bride in white, serene and healthy, face fresh from good sleep and food. I looked nothing like that long ago bride, a captive in wedding lace, weeping in a chapel room. That girl was long gone.

“Are we ready?” Amma said. She held her voice steady, but I saw the pride on her face. “Your groom awaits you.”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Genevieve held up my veil and Liza the train of my dress. Amma and Mary-Anne opened the doors to the sitting room we had used to dress and prepare. In the hall beyond, Damain stood at the foot of the stairs, fussing with his cufflinks, as Alex droned on beside him, “Ah, you’re just so grown up lad. Jesus, one might think I might need to be gettin’ on with marrying, find a good lass…”

Their gazes jerked up as I entered. Damian’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh…” It was the only sound he seemed capable of making, gaping, eyes wide. I came up beside him, smiling, and linked my arm through his.

“The coach is ready,” Amma said, peering outside. “Shall we go? Everyone should have gathered at the church by now, damn them if they’re late.”

I nodded, still feeling Damian’s eyes staring at me. We walked together out the front doors, down the steps toward a coach pulled by a fine gray horse, Jacobi at the reigns. He tipped his hat to us; he’d even fastened a rose to his lapel for the occasion.

Octavio opened the coach door, ushering me within. Kiiji, still gangly and clumsy in his human body, stood close behind him. He usually followed Octavio about. He said Octavio was an “unbothersome presence,” but by the looks the two sometimes exchanged, I suspected it was a bit more than that.

I settled into the carriage seat, near drowning in my skirts and giggling at how cumbersome they were.

She’s joyful. Happy. Silly girl. Where are we going?

I felt the little pokes at my brain, the voices distant and soft. New events stirred them up, excited them. But it was easy enough to quiet them most days.

“Are you alright?” Damian said, as the carriage lurched into motion. I must have looked distant. He smiled as my gaze came back to him, his face soft as he looked at me, drinking me in with a tenderness I would never have enough of.

“Yes, love,” I reached across to squeeze his hand, and he placed his fingers over the dark mark Death’s kiss had left on me. “I’ve never been better.”

THE END