Page 31 of No Surrender
Vic reached out to take his hand. “No apologies necessary—I just feel like I’m coming in on the middle of the discussion. Now, what was that about our wedding?”
Simon blushed. “I’ve been looking at places to have the reception—and maybe the ceremony as well. It’s fun to do and breaks up the day. The hotels around here are pretty but expensive, and they all look the same. But the old train depot was made over into an event venue, and it has a lot of character.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever paid any attention to it, but maybe you and I can go over and have a look,” Vic offered. “It sounds interesting. Anything we do will break the D’Amato wedding mold since High Church Catholic Mass is out.”
“It’s probably going to depend on how many of your clan are planning to come and whether there’s room, as much as it does on price,” Simon replied. “Do you have an idea based on the other weddings?”
Vic leaned back in his chair, still holding Simon’s hand. He loved the idea of Simon doing some wedding planning on the side, even if they hadn’t set a date. While Vic occasionally got panicked about tying the knot, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Simon. More often, he had flashes of doubt about whether Simon would decide he could do better. So finding out that his fiancé was so invested in the wedding reassured Vic’s unspoken insecurities.
“If we were getting hitched in Pittsburgh, we’d get the whole extended family,” Vic replied. “My cousin had four hundred at her wedding, and most of that was on our side.”
Simon paled. “Fourhundred? Dude—I don’t think I’mrelatedto four hundred people—including the ghosts.”
Vic laughed. “Don’t panic—a lot of those folks won’t caravan all the way down here for little ol’ me.” He paused to do the math in his head, counting siblings, first cousins, aunts, and uncles. “I’d bet one hundred to one hundred fifty, tops.”
“Okay,” Simon said, looking like he might hyperventilate. “We’ll have room since I’m not inviting my family. But I do want to invite our friends. Tracey and Shayna, Pete and Mikki, Ross and Sheila, Gabriella, Miss Eppie, Captain Hargrove…and then there’s Cassidy and the Charleston crew. And I figured we’d invite Travis and Brent, Seth and Evan, as well as Erik and Ben—I know it’s farther for them, but it would be great if they could make it.”
“Hmm. Are you including Sorren? Because if so, we need an evening event,” Vic pointed out. Sorren was a nearly six-hundred-year-old vampire who worked closely with Simon’s cousin Cassidy to help stop supernatural threats. He and Simon had been part of a few of those efforts and had gotten to know Cassidy’s friends and allies.
“I assumed so,” Simon replied. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up.”
“Just as well we aren’t doing a Mass then.”
“Probably so.”
Vic realized he’d come a long way from doubting that psychics were real to inviting a vampire to his wedding.
“Go ahead and make an appointment or whatever we have to do to go see the place. We can figure it out from there,” Vic said.
Simon leaned over the table to press a kiss to Vic’s lips. “Thank you. I’m glad you didn’t mind me doing some research—I wasn’t trying to leave you out of anything.”
Vic cupped the back of Simon’s head and deepened the kiss for a moment before releasing him. “I’m just grateful you’re having fun doing it. One of us needs to—and I’ve been too slammed with work to think about anything else.”
“Let’s get the kitchen cleaned up, and then I’ve got some tidbits that might be useful,” Simon told him.
Once the dishes were done and the leftovers put away, Simon and Vic settled onto the couch with a couple of beers. Vic listened as Simon recounted his day, then filled him in on what he and Ross had uncovered.
“Caves and a castle? That’s some freaky shit.” Vic took a pull from his beer. “And what do you think ‘no surrender’ means?”
“I’m still not sure about that, although I’ve got my theories. I’m hoping that either the woman at The Strand or the retired reporter Walt knows can shed some light on things,” Simon admitted. He reached for a bag and pulled out the items Gabriella had made for him.
“These are for you, Ross, and Hargrove,” he said, handing Vic three of the hex bags. “Keep them with you at all times. It’s kind of like Kevlar for magic.”
“Okay.” Vic drew out the word. Maybe he imagined it, but he could have sworn he felt a ripple of energy when he touched the burlap. “After all the stuff that’s happened, I don’t think Ross and Hargrove will bat an eye at this. Do I want to know how it works?”
“They concentrate protective energy. If you want specifics, you’ll have to talk to Gabriella. I believe her when she says they’ll keep you safer—but they won’t make you bulletproof.”
“Got it,” Vic said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’re my partner—of course I want to keep you safe.” Simon paused. “You have other amulets. Please wear them while we’re dealing with this.”
Vic could see how much it meant to Simon. “I promise.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m honestly afraid the Slitter trial might run into complications, Simon. Things aren’t going well.”
“Talk to me. Is this about the cursed items?”
Vic nodded. He didn’t open his eyes, but he felt Simon’s hand on his thigh, a reassuring weight.
“The news ran a segment about ‘bad luck’ striking the case with the D.A. and now the judge. It was just clickbait—this time. They didn’t know about me and the food poisoning. But if someone else gets hit, three times is a definite pattern. The media will go nuts with that kind of thing. It’ll turn into a circus—and that’s prime territory for a mistrial.”
