Page 34 of Shield and Savior

He rests his head against mine as my breathing and sobs start to slow down. “I’m sorry the plates upset you.” I’m about to say it’s okay, but he continues, “I knew I should’ve sent you the plates with the flamingos on them instead of the parrots.”

I laugh through my tears. “Yes,that’sexactly why I’m so upset.”

He gives me a comforting smile, one that says he would do anything to take the pain away. “I can’t imagine what you would do if you saw the twelve-plate set with all the cryptids. Bigfoot, Loch Ness Monster, mermaids. Kinda glad there wasn’t one for the Wendigo. Seems a little too meta,” Lance offers with a smile.

I sniffle and withdraw to my side of the car. “You should’ve led with that.”

“Noted.” He slides back and straps himself in. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” I check myself in the mirror. My face is blotchy and red, but my eye makeup is untouched.

I feel a thousand times better once we pull up to the hotel. I needed the little cry to reset my perspective.

The lobby has an art deco grandeur, but the reception hall matches the bride’s dress with a cozy cottage core vibe. It is adorable, minimalist, yet super expensive, to transform the room. It is an Instagram-worthy wedding.

I point to the tables with their mason jar cups and wine glasses. “Winner winner, chicken dinner.” I laugh and grab our seating cards off the table. “Table 13.”

As we walk toward the back of the reception hall, there’s a low grumble from Lance. “We’ve been here for two minutes, and I’ve already clocked an underboss from a minor family, a shady CEO who’s under indictment for fraud, and five cons who got out of jail a year ago.”

“What did you expect?” I ask. He says nothing, but steps closer to me. His hand drifts to my lower back, and my insides melt.

We aren’t the only people at the table. Clearly, it’s an oasis for the misfit toys. The mish mash of people includes an elderly couple who seem confused by the mason jars, a girl who has to be a few years younger than the bride and groom taking selfies, and a man about our age, his back stiff, pressed against the chair. He has his back to the wall and eyes on the exits, but as soon as he sees us, he smiles. He is huge, all muscle, but his suit fits his body perfectly. His dirty blond hair is cut short, and there’s a scar on the side of his face that makes him look more cool than dangerous.

“Lance!” The stranger stands and shakes my bodyguard’s hand.

They both start speaking in Russian. What the fuck? Lance speaks Russian? I don’t know a lot of Russian—Uri only taught me and Waverly the curse words—but I definitely hear my name and Drew’s.

“Izzy, this is Dimitri, Ian’s uncle,” Lance says before pulling out a chair for me.

I extend my hand. “Hi. Drew talks about Ian all the time.” Things start to click together. “Are you a part of the Four Families?” My father didn’t trust me enough to follow through on this. He sent a backup.

Dimitri shakes his head. “I am Uri’s cousin from Russia, but I am not directly tied to the Four Families.”

Oh. He must see the confusion on my face and adds, “The bride and groom invited me. They are clients.”

Oh, okay, sounds reasonable.

But now Lance pipes in, “But you work at Joey’s club. Is it normal to invite a dungeon master to a wedding?”

OH. Okay, well, that changes a lot.

“You’re not supposed to out people like that.” Dimitri shakes his head. “You don’t know what goes on at the club, do you?”

Okay, so Lance is not a member of Joey’s sex club. File that information away. I kinda breathe a sigh of relief because the last thing I want is my cousin to watch me having dirty sex. Not exactly my kink.

Lance swirls his water around his glass. “I always imagine it like a gym…with a different type of spotter, and equipment that needs to be wiped down more.”

Dimitri shakes his head. “I’m sure you know someone you could ask.”

Lance gives a little shrug. “Alana likes to give me wildly inaccurate information just to make me squirm. When it comes to this stuff, I can’t ever tell what’s real and what’s a joke with her.”

Well, another knowledge bomb right there. “Wait, so, Alana, your boss who owns and operates a massive private security company, who also has Joey scared out of his mind, is a member of his sex club? That’s so complicated.” This little revelation causes the rest of the table to pause what they’re doing and stare at us.

Shit.

Lance pipes in for the save, “Sax club, it’s for jazz.” This seems to placate the others and they go back to their previous conversations.

Dimitri frowns and rolls his eyes, “Only the letter A is wrong in that sentence.” He exhales and watches the room. “Back home, I had a sense of humor.”

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