Inferno

By Divamercury

Hey everyone! I'm beginning to believe that I have no idea how many more chapters are left, so I'll quit saying "two or three" because that's probably not right. I'm glad that you all have enjoyed it so much, and PLEASE continue to review! I've been having an extreme review shortage lately. Anyway, thanks a lot and enjoy Chapter 18!

Chapter 18

To my disappointment, he was still there, sitting on my couch, waiting for me. He reminded me of some kind of pet, staying motionless, waiting for his master to return. But I wasn't his master, and didn't intend to be.

"So, guess you don't have much to do, huh?" I asked, my voice full of scorn. I really, really wanted him to leave, becauseI was afraid that what Danny had just told me and had been telling me for a long time might actually have some basis in fact.

He didn't seem to pick up on any of that.

"Listen, I need to get moving. I've got a lot of stuff to do this morning and if I don't get it done, I'm in huge trouble. So, if you don't mind, I've gotta run. Bye," I said, and headed out the door. I locked it behind me and turned around, ramming into a wall of black. I looked up and couldn't believe it.

In the time it took for me to leave my apartment and close and lock the door, approximately fifteen seconds, Ian had somehow been able to make it out the door and block my way.

"Wha?" I trailed off, deciding not to ask. "Well, if you really want to follow me everywhere today, then be my guest."

"That will not be necessary, Sara. I will not trail you today, but I would like to speak to you later. Ihave something important that Ineed to address."

"Okay," I said, confused as usual. I blinkedand as soon as my eyes opened again, Ian was gone.

"I'm going to have to buy some bells," I muttered, thinking plural for both Danny and Ian. Shaking my head in disbelief, I continued down the hall from my apartment and out to the street.

When I opened the door to the outside, I whistled loudly as my hair blew past my face along with the air rushing past my head and up the sleeves of my leather jacket. I shivered involuntarily. It was an exceptionally windy day in beloved NYC, and said wind had just turned me into a human ice cube.

"Why was it today of all days that I didn't wear long sleeves?" I muttered to myself. The nylon inner lining of my jacket caught the cold wind and trapped it against my skin like it was a makeshift freezer. I rubbed my arms to try and regenerate heat in my appendages.

The scene outside on the street was different than usual. Pieces of litter that usually remained dormant in gutters blew along the sidewalks propelled by the frigid zephyr. Men clutched their coats closer to their chests, desperately trying to block out the breeze, and women huddled in doorways, trying to keep their hair from blowing into perfectly lip-sticked lips. The faint rays from the cloud-shrouded sun succeeded in casting faint shadows of people and buildings alike onto the concrete beneath my feet but failed to provide warmth of any kind. In short, it was just a cold, dreary, shitty day. Unfortunate day for a weddingwell, at least it was indoors.

* * *

I hated to leave Sara, because I really did need to speak to her about my feelings for her, but it simply wasn't the right time. As I was on my way back to Vorschlag, since I had nowhere else to go, my cell phone suddenly rang. I answered it, expecting Irons.

"Hello?"

"Ian?" It was Ciara. I was surprised to hear from her again; I thought we had settled the deal.

"Hello, Ciara. Just out of curiosity, how did you get this number?"

"Gabe's Caller ID. He never deletes any numbers off of it. He's got about 1,000 registered calls on here, and your number was here froma really long time ago. So, anyway, our plans have changed a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I thoughtyou're probably going to hate this idea, but I think it might work, so listen up"

* * *

I came back to my apartment at about 2:00 that afternoon after being gone all day. I had been busy doing errands for the service at 4:00 and came back by my apartment to pick up my stuff. Just as I was pondering how I was going to get a satin dress to the chapel safely while on a motorcycle, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked, praying that it wasn't Irons. I didn't have time to go all the way to Vorschlag, kill him, and get back in time for the service.

"Chief?" It was Gabe.

"Oh, hey, Gabe. What's going on?"

"Well, we've got a little snag in the wedding gears. I just got a call from Ciara. She says Luke's best man is out of the picture. Flu."

"Sowho's going to take over?" I asked.

"Wellshe wanted me to. But I barely even know the guy!"

"Come on, Gabe. You're too nice to say no."

"Well, yeah."

"Someone's modest. Anyway, I've got a little problem myself."

"Elaboration?"

"Satin dress, makeup, and motorcycle don't mix," I stated simply.

"Well, how about this? I'll be the best man, rushing in to save the day, and on the way to the chapel, which is where I'm going in about thirty seconds, I'll pick you and your accouterments up on my way. Good plan?"

"Great plan. I don't know why I didn't call you sooner. You have a truly dizzying intellect, my friend."

"I'm hoping that was sincere and not a quote from The Princess Bride."

I laughed. "No, although that wasn't a bad idea. I just can't believe I said that. Listen, will you just come and pick me up already? This conversation is freaking me out."

"Ditto. On my way!" Gabe chirped, and we hung up.

* * *

Ten minutes later we pulled up to the chapel. I felt stupid walking in with a dress (of all things) over my arm, but I made it through. Ciara came running up to me, hyperventilating.

"Sara! Luke's best man is sick and the guy who was going to give me away can't make it and Louisa decided that she wasn't going to show up until the last minute and—"

"—Breathe, Ciara, just breathe," I interrupted her, shifting my dress over my shoulder and grasping her shoulders, restraining my urge to shake her. "Everything will be fine. Gabe's filling in for best man, I'll knock some sense into Louisa if I have to, but the giving away thing—"

"—Got it covered," Gabe piped up, jumping headfirst into the conversation. "We're all set. Got a friend to do it. Now just try to return your airflow to normal, Ciara."

"See?" I asked. "Everything's fine. Now, let's get started. I hope you have a semi-trained professional on hand, because makeup is definitely not my forte and I don't think you want to get married looking like something out of Rocky Horror, so I'll need some help..."