"How are we supposed to get past all," Isa's hand swept out to encompass the multitude of SWAT team members, FBI, and police officers, "this?"
"Never underestimate the resourcefulness of a vampire, darling," Chance murmured. Then he led her quickly to the nearby confessional box, squeezing them both inside.
The panel slid open at once on the priest's side, and a pale blonde head appeared next to the privacy grill.
"What are your sins, my child?" a smoothly accented English voice asked.
Chance laughed. "Too many to list, Bones, and so are yours. If you don't mind, I'd like to add to them."
"Indeed. Desecration of the confessional, coming up straightaway."
There was a tear of metal, and then the grille separating them was gone. Bones-this was the vampire her grandmother spoke about?-gave a hard tap at the wall behind him and it fell away, revealing an exit had been recently cut but then dry-walled back into place.
"The rectory," Bones supplied, crawling through. "Let's not dawdle."
Chance and Isa climbed through the space as well. With all the commotion, there should have been sufficient sound coverage to muffle their escape, but soon people would notice that the gun-toting bride was nowhere to be seen.
Once inside the rectory, Bones gestured to the window. "Your car's across the street. I'll stay here and delay anyone who might have a mind to come after you. Best get moving, or Greta may take off without you."
"You let a hundred and twenty-six-year-old woman drive my Camaro?" Chance asked in disbelief.
Bones laughed. "You're older than she is, who are you to throw stones?"
"How old are you?" Isa gasped. Okay, so she hadn't gotten around to asking some things.
"One hundred and forty-three," Chance supplied, giving her a quick kiss. "But don't worry, darling. I don't feel a day over the century mark."
"Nice meeting you, luv," Bones called out as Chance swept Isa in his arms. He vaulted through the open rectory window at full speed, making everyone they passed look like no more than a haze of colors.
Across the street, Greta revved the engine of the Camaro. Chance dove in the open passenger door and Greta took off without waiting for him to close it, swinging the car into the street with a squeal of tires.
"Where are we going?" Isa asked, her head firmly clasped to Chance's chest. He had the seat reclined to avoid them being spotted-or so she guessed.
"Anywhere you want," he replied. "We have time."
Isa looked over at her grandmother, who was wheeling the muscle car around, and she smiled. Following your heart is always the right decision, Greta had said, and Isa agreed. That's what she was doing, so it didn't really matter where they went. Besides, Chance was right. They had time. All the time in the world, if she wanted.
"Surprise me," Isa said, and kissed him.