Page 258 of The Protective Gryphen

“This piece right here,” he said, pointing at it.

“In the gold or the platinum?”

“Which is stronger?” he asked. “I need something that says strength, tenacity, and will last a long time.”

“The platinum then.”

“Can I see it?”

He pulled it out, and it was just a rectangle. It was nothing fancy. It kind of reminded him of a dog tag, but so much smaller.

His tags were at home with his Blues, so he couldn’t give those to Ian until later.

“Can you engrave it for me?” he asked.

“We can. It’ll take time though. We have an order we are about to start working on now.”

Gryphen knew how to do this.

“How much to do it first?”

The man looked confused.

“Pardon?”

“It’s a gift, and I need it for tonight. How much to get it done before that order. I’ll pay whatever you ask. Double it. That’s fine.”

“Are you serious?” the man asked.

“Yeah, I am. Can you do it?”

The man laughed.

“It’ll be four-hundred-pounds sterling,” he said, tacking on a thick fee.

Gryphen didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled out his wallet and paid him.

“Here’s what I need put on the back. It’s one word.”

He scribbled it down.

“Give me an hour,” he said, “and it’ll be done.”

That worked for him.

Now, he’d just have to distract the man at the pub, and then sneak out, get the necklace, and return.

The things you did for love.

Heading out, he found Graham still sitting on the bench sans Ian. Apparently, his man was struggling with picking out paper.

Wisely, Gryphen wasn’t going to question it. A happy man was a happy husband. If he wanted to spend time looking at paper, more power to him.

When he sat down, Graham was curious.

“How’d it go?”

He laughed.

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