Page 72 of Spooks & Specters

“Before we start on invitations, we need to get an idea of who we’re going to invite,” Hudson said. “Connie?”

“I can start the list on my phone,” Connie said, then groaned. “Although, this guest list could start wars.”

“Only if we let it,” Hudson countered. “But we do need to ensure representation from all the paranormal clans—vampires, werewolves, gargoyles, daemons, mers…. Everyone needs to feel included.”

“And let’s not forget the diplomats from the human sector who are in the know,” Connie added. “It’s always good to include them. And celebrities.”

“How do we even start? I mean, how do you choose?”

“Like this—starting a draft list,” Connie said. “We can adjust as needed based on responses and political necessities. Definitely the mayor of San DeLain gets an invite, plus any of his people. I’m also going to write down a few celebrities. All the daemons, the wolves, the mer, and the gargoyles. That’s a couple hundred people already. I haven’t added our court nor our families.”

“Good grief. Okay, we’re going to be working on that for a little while. So, after that….” Kit trailed off mid-sentence. “What next?”

“We’ll need to finalize security arrangements,” Hudson said. “Given the mixed guest list, we’ll need discreet but effective protection.”

“Absolutely,” Connie said. “I’ll have to get in touch with some contacts I have who specialize in paranormal security. None of our people are going to want to miss the wedding in order to provide protection.”

“Of course not,” Hudson agreed.

“And entertainment,” Kit added suddenly. “We’ll need music that can cater to all sorts—perhaps a DJ with experience in supernatural gatherings?”

“Good thinking.” Hudson nodded. “It’ll keep the atmosphere lively.”

“This is going to be the wedding of my dreams,” Kit said softly. “Thanks to both of you. I can’t wait.”

The Pendant

Warning: bullying, slurs, a character is jumped

Chapter One

AUSTIN STARED at his old, battered locker. It was just one in a long string of them that lined the walls of his prep school, each one bearing the scars of years of use. He was always the first one in and the first one out, a routine he’d established early on.

Today, however, he was still there thanks to his stupid locker giving him fits. He tensed as he tried to work his combination lock. The shiny metal numbers glinted in the fluorescent light as he spun the dial, his brow furrowed in frustration.

Why wouldn’t the stupid thing open? He was running out of time, dammit. He was still fiddling with his locker combination when he heard the booming laughter of Travis and his cronies.

Austin had his reasons for getting out of there fast, and one of the main reasons was currently bearing down on him. Travis Doover, son of WB “Boss” Doover, the owner of The Doover Company, was nothing but a bully and the bane of Austin’s existence. From the day they’d started preschool, Travis had had it out for him, and Austin had no idea why.

The scent of sweat and stale gym socks filled Austin’s nose, a familiar smell in this locker room. As Travis and his buddies approached, the strong scent of expensive cologne and testosterone wafted towards him.

The echoes of their heavy steps reverberated like a warning drum in the tiled hallway. Austin’s hands shook, going clammy as his heart thudded painfully against his ribs. Austinglanced over his shoulder as they entered, and Travis’s eyes locked on him like a predator stalking its prey.

A malicious grin slowly twisted his lips as he took menacing steps towards Austin. “What’s up, Austin? You look confused, but it’s you, so that’s no surprise. Your locker giving you trouble? Need some help?”

Austin wanted to cry. He should have just left.

“Hey, asshole, I asked you a question.”

“Leave him alone, Trav,” called one of the other boys half-heartedly.

Travis ignored him, stepping closer to Austin. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” he jeered, reaching down to flick at Austin’s ear.

Austin flinched, but he bit his tongue to avoid escalating the situation.

As he finally managed to unlock his locker, relief and dread washed over him. Relief that he got it unlocked, and dread because how was he going to get out of here? Indifference sure wasn’t working. And all obedience got him was more trouble.

Austin’s mouth was dry, and his tongue felt like sandpaper as he nervously licked his lips. He grabbed his bag and turned, trying to keep his voice steady. “I just want to leave, Travis.”

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