"It doesn't matter," he said, his expression going hard as he wrapped a hand around my arm and hauled me to the front of the building. "Believe what you want. I'm going to ensure that you, at least, will not allow the reapers to kill any more of my people."
"Oh dear god, you're going to kill me!" I screamed, panicking as he jerked open a wooden door and hauled me inside the building.
"If I wanted to do that, I'd have broken your neck last night. Be quiet, woman!" he yelled, startling me into silence, the last few echoes of my screeches fading away. "The priest here doesn't speak English, so it's no use begging him for help."
"Priest!" I squawked, clawing at his hand in an attempt to get free. My entire body was riddled with fear and the knowledge that I was about to be killed by a vampire. "For last rites?"
A small, wrinkled man shuffled forward out of the gloom, and I realized with a start that I was in a tiny church. For some reason, that scared me even more. What if the vampires had their own horrible cult, someplace to conduct their dark doings?
"What I am about to do is much, much worse than death," Kristoff said, pulling me so close I could see the tiny black lines that flared out from his pupils. Suddenly, he smiled, but it wasn't a nice smile, not nice at all. It was the sort of smile a panther would give a particularly juicy-looking rabbit just before it pounced. "We're going to be married, Zorya."
I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. "You're not going to kill me?"
His smile grew. "No."
I sagged with relief until his next words hit me.
"But you're going to wish you were dead before I'm done with you." "Sign."
"No. I'm not going to do it."
Kristoff's hand tightened around my throat. "Sign it or I will break your neck."
It wasn't easy to swallow with him half throttling me like that, but I finally managed it. "Look, I don't know why you want to marry me - "
"I'd as soon as marry a viper," he interrupted. "Alec agreed to do it, but since he conveniently disappeared last night when I went to arrange for the license, I am the sacrifice instead."
I bristled a little at the word "sacrifice."
"Well, I don't particularly like you, either! Alec is much, much nicer than you. He actually smiles."
"Sign the damned things so we can get out of here." Kristoff growled, indicating the two copies of marriage forms he'd produced.
I had discovered he'd spoken the truth about the elderly clergyman. Not only was he deaf to all pleas to save me, he performed what I had a horrible feeling was a marriage ceremony while I tried to reason with the insane man next to me. "This is ridiculous. This is 2008. You can't force someone to get married. There are laws."
"There are also bribes, and as I spent the night getting the correct documents and asking my old friend here to conduct the official ceremony, it will be completely legal and binding. As soon as you sign."
"But we're in Iceland! I'm not a citizen. Surely it can't be legal for noncitizens to be married without a ton of paperwork. And don't I have to be present to get a license? Surely I have to have been present!"
"There are ways to make it possible," he said grimly. "Sign the damned things."
"No," I said, folding my hands. "And you can't make me. Kill me if you want, but I'm not signing."
Kristoff snarled something rude that I chose to ignore, yanking a small blue object from his pocket.
"Hey! Where did you get that?" I tried to grab my passport back from him, but he held it out of reach, flipping through the pages until he came to the one with my signature.
"Your precious Alec gave it to me last night, when you were asleep," he said, snatching up the pen and thrusting it into my hand. Before I could throw it away he yanked me backward against his body, one hand clamping down on mine as he consulted the passport.
"Stop it!" I yelled, struggling as he forced my hand to write a scraggly version of my name. "This isn't legal! You can't do it!"
"It's done," he snapped, forcing me to sign the second form before releasing me. I jumped away and rubbed my abused hand.
"You don't have witnesses, Mr. Smarty-Pants," I pointed out. "You may have your buddy there falsely conduct the ceremony, and you may have a version of my signature, but there were no witnesses to the ceremony, and I'm sure that even in Iceland you have to have witnesses."
Kristoff put two fingers to his mouth and blew a piercing whistle that seemed earsplitting in the confined space of the small church.
Two men emerged from what I assumed was a back room. They both eyed me as they came forward, speaking in a language that I didn't understand.