My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding

It felt so surreal. It felt off. Maybe it was because I’d never been about to walk down the aisle before.

I realized I was nervous. Had some strange, hidden part of me wanted the show? Or was this simply because I knew Zatar could strike at any time? I tugged my right hand out of dad’s and let my fingers rest on my switch stars.

“You’ll do fine,” he said, patting me on the shoulder.

I was a nervous wreck.

Once my mom had been seated, Dimitri emerged from the gardens to the left. He wore a classic black tux that set off his handsome, exotic features and made him look like a Greek James Bond. He was so going to wear that again for me.

The groom’s side to the right of the aisle let out whoops and cheers, startling the bride’s side. Well, the society part at least. Grandma and the witches joined in the hollering. Aunt Ophelia practically yodeled. When the racket died down, the crowd waited expectantly.

Dad took my arm in his, and I felt the emotion of the moment well up in me.

Before I could let it get too out of hand, I slid out of his grip and moved to his right side.

“Lizzie,” he tried to maneuver around me, “you’re doing it backward.”

Yes, well, I needed my switch star arm free. “It’s an old horseback riding injury,” I lied, knowing he’d never paid attention enough to know the difference.

“It won’t look good,” he warned, when I refused to let go of his right arm.

Neither would a raging demon. I didn’t have time to argue. I couldn’t shake the sense that we were walking into a trap. I still had no idea who the demon was using. There was nothing to do except try to determine where the attack would come from.

“Help me,” I murmured to the ghost whose dress I wore.

A form shimmered at the edge of the aisle, between the porch and the back row. It was her! We wore matching wedding gowns. She became more solid, and I saw she was worn and tired. Heavy chains bound her wrists. Another chain wrapped around her neck and wrapped around her body. The chains at her wrists sliced her skin, drawing blood. They tortured her, bent her shoulders.

My mouth went dry. The connection was tangible between us, so much stronger than before. It was as if an invisible cord linked me to her.

“What do I need to see?” I whispered. Show me the evil.

Her expression was stark, her face haunted. A trickled of blood ran from the corner of her mouth as she opened it to speak. “I will show you.”

Holy frick. She’d spoken.

I hated to do this to her, but, can you speed it up? I channeled to her, as my father led me out onto the porch and down the steps toward the white aisle runner.

The dull thud in my stomach turned into a knot.

“Come on, sweetie.” Dad nudged me toward her.

I couldn’t even look at dad. I was focused on her. It almost looked like she wanted to tell me something else, only she couldn’t form the words.

Maybe she was trying to warn me.

The deceased Elizabeth acted as the energy behind the demon. She was the key, if I only knew how to use her. She watched me, her fear unmistakable as she held vigil. Behind her, sat rows and rows of my wedding guests, my loved ones.

These people counted on me to keep them safe. It was my duty as a demon slayer to make this right.

My dad led me straight to where she stood. I could have touched her. The air around her sizzled.

Show me what’s wrong, I pleaded.

She shook her head. Her fear turning to pleading. Look and you will see.

I don’t get it. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t understand.

A small quartet to the side began playing the first notes of Pachelbel's Canon.

It was a haunting melody, a beautiful one. Chairs creaked as my guests stood and turned toward me.

See, the ghost urged.

I don’t— Holy hell. I gasped and would have taken a step back if my dad hadn’t held onto me so firmly. Row upon row of my friends and family stared at me unblinking, the whites of their eyes were huge and glaring, their pupils radiated a bright and deadly scarlet.

They were possessed. Every last one of them.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Come on, hon,” Dad urged. I looked up at him. His eyes were blazing red as well.

Fuck.

His hand gripped my arm tighter. I couldn’t switch star him, or any of them. He pulled me forward, toward them. I could sense the demon’s fury. The malice of the crowd split the air. They were on a razor thin leash, a bloodthirsty horde, ready to attack.

We passed by the ghost, and made our way slowly up each of the ten rows to the front, every devilish pair of eyes on me. I tried to tell myself that my friends and family were no different than they had been a few minutes ago. I could just see it now.

It didn’t help.

I pasted a smile on my face. I couldn’t let the demon know I’d seen through his ruse, if it was even possible to fool him at this point.

Dimitri stood waiting for me at the front. His eyes were blessedly normal, from what I could see. We’d go down together.

With each step I took, I was more and more consumed by their possessed stares, those unblinking red eyes. They followed me all the way down the aisle. They waited for me as Pirate stood near the front row, his gaze glowing red as well.

With each step I took toward my groom, they surrounded me.

Slowly, deliberately, I took each horrifying step through the wedding crowd of the damned. If they attacked, I had no shot. I wasn’t an exorcist. And there were too many of them.

Even if there had only been one, I had no idea how to toss demons out of a living soul. And I certainly couldn’t kill my mom or my Grandma, or even little Pirate.

The demon had trapped me in the worst way possible.

He’d set out to get me at my own wedding. He’d set a similar trap for the first bride. What I’d give for my necklace right now.

I searched for Rachmort, who was officiating this monstrosity. He stood off to the side, wearing a black suit trimmed with gold. His eyes were pink, not as bad. Lord, who was I kidding? I didn’t know what pink meant.

Dimitri was the only other one not exposed. Too bad he didn’t know what the hell was going on. His expression tightened, and I could see he felt my fear. It could have been from the way our powers had touched together, or simply because he knew me so well.

Despite the fear, he kept stoic, and so did I as I placed one foot in front of the other. There was nothing else we could do.

At last, I reached him at the ceremonial archway. He took my hands, his lips brushing my cheek.

“Which one is possessed?” he asked, tightly, his breath warm against my ear.

“All of them.” I said against his skin.

His fingers tightened on my waist and cursed under his breath as we turned toward Rachmort.

Dimitri’s expression betrayed nothing. “You need the emerald,” he said, low, so that only I could hear.

No kidding. It held the kind of protection I’d need if a battle broke out here. That’s why one of these