Page 58 of Thunder Road

Simon turned to Vic. “What do we do about Sister Cecilia’s body?”

Vic stared at the charred corpse and grimaced. “I’m still working that out.”

“I’ll handle it.”

They turned to Hardin, who had come to stand next to Dan. “This is technically my jurisdiction under the Supernatural Coast Guard. Not my first haunted lighthouse or the first mess to clean up. It helps that no one is allowed to be here. Leave it to me.”

Vic opened his mouth to argue and seemed to think better of it.Maybe he realized that he’d never be able to write a report for this,Simon thought.

“What we just did should break the motorcycle club deal, right?” Vic cut through Simon’s silence.

Simon nodded. “Yes. With the original protections back in place—and souped up as well, the troll can’t continue the deal with the club or make new ones. He’s bound as long as the lighthouse incantations are strong and the genius loci of the wellspring feeds the magic.”

“Good to know,” Vic replied.

Simon looked to the others who had come out to the island on this desperate gambit. Everyone looked tired and worn, but proud of the difficult victory they had achieved.

Hardin signaled the boat captain, and the sound of the engine made them all turn toward the dock.

“Time to go home, folks,” Hardin said. “You did good. You’re heroes. It won’t be in the news, but I’ll make sure the right people know. Thank you.”

Vic linked arms with Simon under the guise of staying close, but Simon knew his partner was quietly lending him physical and emotional support.

“Pretty impressive,” Vic said quietly once they were seated on the boat and headed back to the mainland. “Now it’s time to get you home and into a hot shower, feed you some sugar and painkillers, and put you to bed.”

Simon wanted to make a witty, suggestive comeback but only managed to squeeze Vic’s hand.

Vic leaned closer so his lips brushed Simon’s ear. “We can have ‘saved the world’ again sex in the morning. I promise.”

10

VIC

“Inever realized saving the world was so exhausting.” Simon tried for a lighthearted quip but sounded bone-weary.

“We’re alive. We’re tired, but no one’s bleeding. And yeah, we stopped the monster. That’s a big win.” Vic and Simon stumbled into the blue bungalow close to midnight, utterly spent.

Vic felt jittery from the adrenaline of the fight, and he couldn’t imagine what Simon must be feeling. Spell drop, the emotional and physical letdown from working powerful magic, was real, and Vic had helped Simon recover from it on many occasions. Now, Vic worried about how drawn Simon looked on the ride home and how silent he had become.

“Come on. Let’s get in the shower before we sleep. Wash off all the heebie-jeebies,” Vic said in a tired attempt at humor. Simon had told him once that bathing played an important part in ritual magic, sluicing away negative energy and cleansing the body to receive new power.

“Don’t know if?—”

“I’ll hold you up if I need to. C’mon.”

Vic gently maneuvered Simon into the bathroom and stripped off his clothing, looking for injuries he might have missed. To his relief, he didn’t see any blood or bruises, but heknew that with magic, psychic wounds were just as real but left no mark.

“I think I’m okay.” Simon didn’t slur his words, not quite, but his voice was a low, exhausted rumble.

“I’ll wash you. No hanky panky—this time,” Vic promised with a fond smile. “Although I’ll take a rain check on that. Then we can sleep. I’ve already told Ross I’ll be in around noon.”

“Need to decorate for Halloween,” Simon murmured as Vic got the water temperature right.

“Worry about that later,” Vic replied to the non sequitur. “Last year it took us about two hours to set up. It’ll be okay.”

Vic lit a sage smudge stick in the bathroom and walked around with it to make sure the smoke reached all the corners before placing it in a safe container on the counter. He’d also grabbed the special soap Gabriella had made that combined rosemary, lemon, sea salt, and lavender, all powerful for physical and psychic cleansing.

He made sure that Simon could brace himself against the shower wall before gently soaping his body. Vic ran his hands everywhere to clean and reassure. Simon permitted it, worrisomely passive, proof of how much the night’s magic had cost him.

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