“Taking advantage of the guards’ release of his arms, Mr. Peterson advanced into the room, hobbling. Terry handed him back his crutches, so that Peterson could hobble his way forward. The foot and leg injury was probably rating the guy some sympathy from our seated guests, but Timothy’s face was mottled with raging fury. He was stiff from the tension. His shoulders were hunched in, and his neck was tucked down like a prize fighter’s.
Timothy gently tried to push me behind him in a protective manner, but I refused to allow that. I figured that Timothy might as well grasp the notion, if he hadn’t done so already, that I had no intention of becoming a passive partner in our relationship. I might be a coward on rollercoasters (and airplanes,) but I was a fighter when it mattered.
Instead of being the quivering little woman in the background, I thrust out my chest and took up my karate position. (Yes, I’d been getting lessons most days. Timothy had insisted, and the karate lessons meant I didn’t have to go to the gym at 5:00 am, so all good.)
Taking a step, which required me to duck away from Timothy’s second grab, I yelled, “How dare you enter this house and disrupt our wedding. You are nothing but a baboon who sees vampires and demons right and left.”
“Let me handle this, my darling,” Timothy said firmly as he once more tried to make me stand behind him.
“Handle it? No, this idiot thinks he can . . .”
“Enough,” a woman said, with a voice like hard crystal — a clanging, super-charged, discordant demand that not only silenced me, but everyone else who might have decided to talk.
She had stood up in the midst of the guests, having blended in as human, but I knew instantly that she wasn’t one of us. I had no idea who she was — or what she was, but she reeked of power. A witch? A vampire? A Fae?
Timothy collapsed onto his knees and urged me down. Among the guests, many left their seats and bent to their knees with bowed heads, all showing their respect for the woman in their midst. And every one of the guests on their knees were strangers that I’d never seen before. I wondered if Timothy knew them. Obviously he knew this woman.
Jack Peters remained unfazed by what was happening in the rows of chairs: the people kneeling, the tall woman standing, and Timothy and me bowing, while everyone sitting had gone absolutely still and silent.