She moves closer to me, fingers the gold, four-leaf clover charm with her right hand, examines it and a wide grin illuminates her face.
"Elizabeth!" Samantha Blood says and my bride's smile disappears.
I turn toward Samantha and glare at her. Elizabeth stares at the floor.
"Sorry, Peter," Samantha says. "There are customs that have to be observed. Bear with us."
"Elizabeth can't communicate with you until you're joined," she says. She motions to Derek, then points to the far corner of the room. I follow her gesture and, for the first time, notice the Jamaicans huddled together, men and women, adults and children, none of them chained, all of them calm and quiet.
Derek walks over to them, culls a young, heavyset man from the group and leads him back. The Jamaican has a few fresh, deep gouges on his face and right arm, but otherwise appears unharmed. His blank expression amazes me. If anything, he looks indifferent to everything around him.
"Dragon's Tear wine," Derek says. "A few drops of it and none of them care a bit about anything. It's most humane, old man. And God's nectar for us when we're in our natural state."
"Enough!" Samantha mindspeaks. "Peter, do you want to have Elizabeth for your mate?"
I nod.
She motions for Chloe to bring a large, white porcelain bowl and set it in front of Elizabeth. Then Samantha walks to a long oak banquet table against the wall, and brings back a tall, green ceramic pitcher. Pouring a clear liquid from it, she fills the bowl half full. "This is Dragon's Tear wine," she says and carries the pitcher back to the table.
Samantha returns with each hand clasped shut. She opens her right hand to reveal a small purple rose. "Do you know what this is, Peter?"
"Yes," I say, out loud.
She frowns at me, and holds a finger to her lips.
"Yes, it's a Death's Rose. The petals are fatal," I mind-speak.
"They can be," Samantha says. She crumbles a petal into the bowl, mixes it with the Dragon's Tear wine. "Are you willing to risk death to have Elizabeth as yours?"
I look toward Elizabeth. She stares into my eyes and nods her head. "I am," I say.
Samantha opens her left hand over the bowl and releases a handful of what looks like dust. "They call it alchemist's powder. It should fight the poison."
Derek puts his hands on my shoulders, guides me to stand facing Elizabeth. "It's time to change, old man," he whispers in my ear. "If you drink that stuff as a human it will kill you."
Chloe and Samantha take positions on either side of Elizabeth and begin to unbutton her dress. I take off my jacket, watch as they lift my bride's dress over her head, revealing the lack of underwear beneath. I breathe in at the sight of her naked, human body, tear the rest of my clothes off, drop them at my side. Behind me, I hear the rustle of clothes as Derek and his father and brother follow suit.
I look away as Chloe and Samantha undress, then worrying they'll think me even more peculiar for avoiding the sight of their human nudity, I turn my gaze back, taking in the pale white body of my mother-in-law-thin and muscular, perfectly taut, even her full breasts impervious to the aging effects of gravity. I study the adolescent form of Elizabeth's younger sister, Chloe-a darker, not yet filled-out copy of my bride.
Chloe giggles when she notices my scrutiny and a blush heats my throat and cheeks. "We aren't human, Peter," Chloe says. "Nudity has no meaning here." She turns slowly, showing off all sides of her young, budding body. "See?"
"Chloe, stop teasing!" Samantha says.
Derek and Philip, both naked now, take places on either side of me. Chloe, fighting a grin, stands to the right of Elizabeth. Charles Blood, looking even more muscular in his nudity, places himself to the left side of the bowl, between Elizabeth and me; Samantha moves to the right.
Chloe waits until the last moment to undo Elizabeth's new necklace, taking it off my bride's slender neck and placing it carefully on top of her folded dress. Elizabeth stares into my eyes as I gaze into hers.
"It is time," Charles says.
Elizabeth begins her transformation-her skin tightening, outlines of scales appearing as her face elongates, her features sharpening and her body growing larger. I follow her lead, turning my thoughts inward, commanding my body, welcoming the almost pain of altered cells, groaning a low growl as I stretch my muscles, my bones, my skin-grateful to leave behind the awkwardness of my human shape, the shame that seems to come with its nudity-glad to embrace the strength and grandeur of my natural state.
All around me others grunt and growl as skin gives way to scales, as hands and feet grow claws, as wings sprout from backs. I realize, if I wasn't completely involved in the process surrounding me, I'd be amazed to be in the midst of so many of my kind-all different sizes, shapes, and ages, from Philip's small, immature frame to Charles's immense, overwhelming bulk.
My heart pounds as I wait for my next instruction. All my life I'd been warned to avoid the Death's Rose, cautioned to not even touch its petals. Now I know I have no choice but to trust that Samantha Blood knows what she's doing. I look at Elizabeth, take in the brilliance of her eyes, the wide flare of her nostrils, the cream color of her underbelly and think, whatever is asked, I'll gladly do.
"Listen to me carefully, son," Charles Blood mind-speaks. "In a few moments, you and Elizabeth will be offered the opportunity to drink from the bowl before you. What you drink won't kill you, but it will change both of you forever. It will bind you to each other in a way neither of you have ever imagined… Peter, knowing you have to do this, do you still want Elizabeth?"
I look into his cold, hard green eyes and nod. "Of course," I say.
Samantha says to her daughter, "Elizabeth, knowing you have to do this, do you still want Peter? "
She tosses her head back, grins and says, "Of course!"
"Both of you please drink at the same time," Samantha says. "Make sure you finish it all. "
Elizabeth's jowl brushes the side of mine as we drink, the clear liquid almost as tasteless as water, slightly bitter from the Death's Rose and alchemist's powder. At first, I wonder if all this is just tradition, like the sip of wine at a Jewish wedding, but then a warmth starts spreading inside me and a fog starts to settle over my thoughts.
My awareness centers on Elizabeth and me-as if we're in the middle of a photograph with everything and everyone else around us out of focus. Somehow I notice when we've finished the last of the potion and I pull my head up as Elizabeth raises hers. We both stare into each other's eyes and gasp.
"Peter! I can see how I look to you-through your eyes! It makes me dizzy."
I laugh, staring at her, seeing my dragon face as she stares at me. "It makes me dizzy too."
"Oh Peter, can you hear every thought I have? What will you think of me? Do you feel everything I feel too?"
I nuzzle her and feel her sensation of being nuzzled at the same time. "Yes… I feel what you feel… I think. But I only hear what you're thinking as you think it. I don't think I can read your memories.…" I stroke her tail with mine, sigh at the double experience of it. "Do you feel what I feel too?"
She sighs, and says, "Yes, Peter."
Somewhere, from the haze surrounding us, Samantha Blood's thought penetrates my, our, consciousness. "Peter? Elizabeth?"
"Yes," we answer.
"Listen carefully. Death's Rose never completely leaves your system. After tonight, any more potion, just the slightest sip, will turn your blood to poison. Only the correct mixture of Angel Wort and alchemist's powder, taken the right amount of time before drinking the potion, can neutralize it. Otherwise death is certain. You must swear, unless one of you dies and the other remarries, you'll never take the risk of drinking any more potion, ever again."
Elizabeth and I both push away any thoughts of death or separation. We can hear each other's heartbeat, feel the air rush in and out of each other's lungs. We're too vital, too young, too strong for such fears. "I swear," we say.