Chapter 33

W ith a smile that was probably permanent, Grant waltzed into a conference room and greeted the rest of the committee in charge of the fast-approaching parade. It'd taken countless hours, but Grant was relatively confident that he'd plotted out and assigned enough teams to keep everyone safe on the big day. Some lovely soul had provided coffee and cookies for their meeting, so Grant helped himself before taking a seat next to the Lich Sentinel.

"I can't remember if I thanked you for being part of our mating ceremony this past weekend," Grant told Alaric.

"It was my pleasure and honor to be included," Alaric stated. "You also have my gratitude for including Rogue and Pizza. They were very excited to help."

"Honestly, every matebond ceremony should include a couple of cute goblins," Grant said. "Hey, Chander, what do you think of summoning me a couple of goblins?"

Chander rolled his eyes. "As I've explained to the sentinels I live with, goblins are traditionally a gift to someone's mate. You aren't my other half, so fuck off."

Grant laughed. "Wow, didn't mean to hit on a touchy subject."

"Think about how driven sentinels are, and imagine that intensity being focused on something they cannot and will not ever have," Chander remarked. "Now, envision yourself on the receiving end of incessant questions about why they can't have it. You've answered every query roughly a million times, yet they won't let the subject drop. That is my home life."

"I'd feel sorry for you, but you have a hot mate, and if you hated it, you guys could get your own place," Grant replied.

"I liked you right up until you spoke that last sentence," Chander retorted.

"I feel this is an appropriate time to remind you, Chand, that your fallen knights have many flaws, including Grant's assessment of your choices," Alaric commented. "Perhaps you should add some memories to the spell explaining what it means to have a family. The Darays do not wish to be parted, Grant."

Chander leaned forward in his chair, and his pewter gaze locked on Grant's face. "That was an illustration of what I was talking about. I've loved this man for many years and explained to him countless times that fallen knights aren't flawed. Yet here we are, and I have to listen to this drivel daily."

"Alaric, listen to your mate and improve your communication skills," Grant said, smirking at the Lich Sentinel.

"Why is he part of our family?" Alaric asked Chander.

"You already know the answer to that question, and despite your current attitude, you like him," Chander replied.

"Only because he is a product of a spell cast by you," Alaric argued.

"You guys are cute," Grant said.

Grant was robbed of any response from the Lich Sentinel when Ellery called the meeting to order. It was a pity. Crossing words with Alaric and Chander was high on Grant's list of fun things to do. They were both incredible people. Grant respected them highly and enjoyed bantering with both men. Although Grant had shared his matebond ceremony with the entire extended D'Vaire family, there remained a part of him in awe that he was counted among the distinguished group.

"Have we received confirmation from every group taking part in the parade?" Ellery asked, tearing Grant's attention from his thoughts to the subject at hand. "The last thing I wish to have is chaos as we line everyone up on parade day."

"All except one," Kalthekor replied. "I was planning on following up with them today."

"Who hasn't confirmed?" Zane asked.

"The Virfenwyn tribe won a spot through the last contest hosted two weeks ago," Kalthekor responded. "They have not responded to any communication from my office yet."

"Do you wish me to follow up with them?" Ellery asked.

"It may be necessary. I cannot know if they are avoiding us because we are Valzadari or if our messages are not being relayed to the appropriate party," Kalthekor said.

"Obviously, Kalthekor is part of my family, so I'm biased, but do we really want any group in a parade celebrating the diversity and strength of our growing Council if they're unwilling to deal with the Valzadari?" Timotheus asked, his brown gaze annoyed.

"Pyxlevir and I have been the ones working on the parade project," Kalthekor explained. "It occurred to me that perhaps they have held onto a grudge against us because when Pyxlevir was a child, Elf and I went to his school because he and Gramlithyn were being bullied. Their teacher ignored the complaints from the children, and he was fired. That man was Virfenwyn. Maybe he spoke with his chieftain?"

"That was how many years ago?" Chander asked. "I'm with Timotheus. If they aren't willing to call you because you're Valzadari, no matter what reason they think they have, then they have no business being in this parade."

"I'll call them," Zane said. "We give them forty-eight hours to respond to Chieftain Valzadari's office or they lose their spot."

"Thank you, Zane," Ellery commented. "I assume we have a substitute we can notify if they do not respond to your office, Kalthekor?"

"Yes, we chose an alternate for each contest—even in instances where no second place was awarded—in case we ran into trouble," Kalthekor responded.

Ellery smiled. "Excellent, that was great planning. Let us hope this is nothing more than a communication issue and not a tribe refusing to speak to another. That is not how our Council is supposed to function. Grant, are you satisfied with security?"

"I am," Grant replied. "I've put together a couple of practices, and everyone assigned can attend at least one of them. Although I'm sure everyone can do their job without a walkthrough, I thought it couldn't hurt to get them together for questions and to firm up exactly where I expect people to be during the parade."

"Damian rearranged Chrys's schedule so he could attend them all," Zane confided, speaking of Ellery's mate and Damian's twin, Emperor Chrysander. Damian had guarded his brother since Fate first made Chrysander many centuries ago. "It caused quite the uproar. Niko was so mad he yelled."

"That was because Damian altered the calendar without notifying Niko," Ellery added. "Everyone in our office knows Niko does the scheduling. Damian deserved Niko's ire."

Royal Duke-mate Niko Draconis was one of the kindest, softest-spoken people Grant had ever met. It was almost impossible to imagine the shifter in a rage, but Grant freely admitted that if anyone had stepped on his toes, he would've done the same.

"Damian's refusal to allow Chrys to be guarded by anyone else really backfired that day," Warrior Chieftain Jace Cyrrien remarked. Jace was born a harpy but represented his mate's race, the Sprite Grove, for the Council. Like all male harpies, his hair was a bright mix of colors, and Grant envied the teals and purples in his eyes and hair.

"Security is important," Tyvalis told her eldest son. "Damian takes his job seriously. It is admirable, but following rules is also essential."

"I hope Damian learned his lesson and will speak to Niko first next time," Ellery said.

Zane chuckled. "Pretty sure that's a given. Not only did he have to deal with Niko, but both Costas and Marcus gave him hell too."

Grant was sure Royal Duke Costas Draconis—as Niko's mate—had had plenty to say to Damian's disregard of the rules. And while Ducsarcelle Marcus Draconis was Damian's other half, the man who ran Draconis Enterprises was fair enough to reprimand even the man he loved if he stepped out of line.

"I'm sorry I missed it," Chander mused.

"It was quite the spectacle," Ellery remarked. "Have we any other issues we need to discuss before we adjourn our meeting? I believe we are well on track for a wonderful parade."

Thankfully, there were no other problems, so Grant grabbed a couple of cookies for the road and Roman, then headed out of the conference room to deal with the pile of work that grew whenever he took a step away from his desk.

∞∞∞

With the parade in a week, Roman was trying his best to keep Grant relaxed. His mate was squeezing in any opportunity he could to review his safety plans. It wasn't surprising. Grant was dedicated to his job, and the parade was a monumental event. As for Roman, he'd decided that he was the lone person capable of keeping Grant somewhat calm—or at least lessening his stress somewhat.

Roman plucked a bag of popcorn out of the microwave and dumped it into a big bowl. After grabbing two beers from the fridge, he left the kitchen for the living area. Grant glanced up as Roman approached the couch where his other half was staring at the detailed map he'd created on his laptop for parade day.

"You're really stepping up your romantic game," Grant said.

To Roman's surprise, Grant shut his computer down and dug into the bowl of popcorn Roman had set on the coffee table. Roman sat next to Grant and handed him a beer.

"I'm not sure this counts as romantic," Roman replied. "You didn't have to stop working. I have plenty of shit to keep me occupied."

"My eyes are starting to cross. We're ready for this parade. I'm not sure how the time passed so quickly, but everyone has their assignments, and I know I can count on them. Next week, when this thing finally happens, it's going to be great. I expect a few hiccups, but we can handle it."

"Of course, you're the man in charge. You got this."

Grant leaned over and kissed Roman. He tasted of salt and butter, making Roman smile.

"Everyone should have someone who believes in them like you do for me," Grant said.

"You're great at your job."

"I learned from the three best Venerable Knights in history."

"We're literally the only other VKs in history."

"Which is why you're perfect," Grant said. He smirked. "You just change the rules if they don't suit you."

"You're hilarious."

"I know. This parade stuff aside, I've been thinking."

Roman took a long drink of his beer and set it aside. As usual, whenever Grant was close, Roman wanted to get his hands on him, so he laid a palm on one denim-clad thigh. "What's up?"

"We put this little team together to investigate my past. Then the moment we learn anything, I put the brakes on. But it's there in the back of my mind. I've poked and prodded a little at what we've learned. Done a little digging."

"Are you apologizing to me for searching for information about your former self?" Roman asked, brushing his lips across Grant's. "Don't you dare. He was you. If you want to learn about him, that's your prerogative."

"It was an acknowledgement of my gained information, not a plea for forgiveness."

"Okay, fair. Now, you want to share what you've learned?"

"Yeah," Grant said, settling into the couch cushions as he turned his body to face Roman more fully. "Here's what's been bugging me. No matter how much I search, I can't find any mention on any news site about Calisto's disappearance or murder. It's like the man dropped off the face of the earth. If I wasn't sitting here as a resurrected version of him, I'd have a hard time believing this guy wasn't running around living his life somewhere."

"It pisses you off."

Fire flared in Grant's brilliant green irises. "It does. Like, what the fuck? Here's this dude telling me to my face that we were in love, but he doesn't notice that his boyfriend or whatever is no longer there? And what about this aunt who wasn't an aunt? Hasn't she found it odd that Calisto isn't calling or visiting?"

"Let's start with the aunt," Roman suggested, giving Grant's leg a gentle caress. "Maybe they weren't that close. Maybe they spoke infrequently. We know nothing about her."

"That's plausible. But it's been so many months now."

"Yeah. Now, this Bradley character is harder to explain. Frankly, I can't find much to trust about the man. He led two lives. In one, he's a husband and father. The other he's fucking a guy and had to be involved in Calisto's evidence tampering. If Bradley was innocent, why would he continue that relationship? Even hire Calisto as a private investigator?"

"Right, we can't find shit about this private investigation business. For all we know, Bradley was his lone client."

"Do you want to talk to James? Maybe he can arrange for us to get human documents to see if there's a death certificate?" Roman asked. "Maybe there was a guardianship and we can find the aunt to talk to her."

Grant rested his head on the cushion behind him and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Couple of scenarios there to consider."

"Lay them out for me."

"First, if she's blissfully unaware that Calisto is dead, our questions would reveal the truth. The second issue is I can't exactly show up on her doorstep. That would freak her the fuck out. I'm not interested in scaring her."

"A phone call would fix nothing," Roman said, thinking through Grant's words. "Any questions we ask would raise her suspicions about Calisto."

"If I were interested in learning everything about Calisto, we could figure something out. Maybe send Samson and Arvandus to question her. We'd still have to allude to Calisto's disappearance or whatever, but we're assuming here that she's willing to talk to fallen knights. She could just slam the door in the face of men she considers zombies. The truth is, I don't really care about Calisto's life. I've decided not to judge his choices either. Whatever he did, he must've had his reasons. I didn't live as he did; I have to assume he was doing the best he could. What I want to know is how he died. Did someone hurt him, or was he involved in some horrible accident?"

"What do you think?"

Grant's eyes narrowed. "Bradley wasn't surprised I was dead. That's what I remember. His confusion was about how I became a zombie. Oh, and he wanted me to admit that I loved him. But the one thing he harped on was whether I recalled anything. That was a question he posed multiple times. What if he knows how I died? What if he was there?"

"Calisto was leaving him. Told me he had to disappear for a while. Was that because he expected Bradley wouldn't take the breakup well?"

"Odds are Bradley isn't going to admit shit to me. He may not even entertain a conversation with me. But if he'll answer a few questions, I'll at least know if he's lying through his fucking teeth. Then I can draw what conclusions I can from that. Without evidence, I can't prove his guilt. If it were a case on my desk, I'd never allow anyone to be punished for Calisto's death, but this may be the closest I'll ever get to understanding how my death occurred."

"Unless Bradley decides to suddenly confess all, your death may always be a mystery."

"Yeah," Grant said with a frown. "I hate that someone will probably get away with my murder. And mysteries suck. But there are only so many ways I can sleuth around to find a morsel of the truth. Will you come with me if I can convince Bradley to meet with me somewhere?"

"On one condition."

Grant was so shocked at the near refusal, Roman nearly laughed at the way his eyes bugged out. "What condition is that?"

"Come cuddle with me."

With a chuckle, Grant shuffled around on the sofa and rested his back against Roman's chest. Grant snagged the half-eaten bowl of popcorn off the table and set it on his lap. "My life is so tough."

"Yep, completely coerced into showing your poor mate some affection."

"Like I'm not going to be face down while you're balls deep in my ass later."

"Don't get me hard, I want cuddles."

"Roman?"

Roman dropped a kiss on Grant's tangled hair. "Yeah, baby?"

"I'm really fucking nervous about this parade."

"I know, but you're going to be fantastic. No one in the Order of the Fallen Knights could do a better job than you on this event."

"Thanks, VK Calixtus."

"You're welcome, VK Valerius."