Chapter 35

G rant had an odd sense of déjà vu as he stood in the sun sweating, waiting for the start of the long-anticipated parade. It was unclear why his brain thought he'd experienced anything like it, but minds were complicated things. A pair of hands landed on his shoulders and squeezed in a way that nearly had a grateful moan slipping out of his mouth. All his muscles were tight with stress, and Roman was damn good at finding the knots.

"Everything is off to a great start," Roman assured him quietly. Grant nearly snapped that the parade had yet to begin, but he reined in his nervousness because the last thing he wanted to do was treat his mate poorly.

"The most genius thing I did today was putting you on my team so you're next to me all day. People probably think it's weird to have two of the four Venerable Knights in one spot, but I don't give a fuck."

"No one has any doubts about any decision you've made."

Grant snorted. "I appreciate your confidence, but that's impossible."

"Okay, you have a point. I'm pretty sure you had popcorn for dinner last night, which wasn't the wisest choice."

Turning to face his smiling other half, Grant rolled his eyes. "No, I stuffed a few slices of pizza in my face at some point. Pretty sure I didn't sleep though."

"Trust me, I know. We sleep together, remember? You tossed and turned so much, I nearly kicked you out of the bed."

"True love is a beautiful thing."

"The important thing is we're going to bed before the sun goes down tonight and we'll sleep like logs."

Grant reached out and gave Roman's hand an affectionate squeeze. "That is the most perfect plan ever." He sucked in a deep breath as he glanced at his watch. "The parade should start any second now."

"Your teams are in place, and we'll handle whatever issues crop up, okay?"

"Any chance I can disappear for a few seconds to change my shirt?" Grant asked. "Pretty sure this one is dripping wet."

"You're changing your clothes after the last float has finished their circuit around the parade route. We share an office, and at some point, you're going to start to stink."

"Honestly, I'm going to pop home and grab a shower."

"Don't put that visual in my head, I need to stay focused so the VK in charge of this parade doesn't chew me out for daydreaming on the job."

Grant gave Roman a rather lecherous once-over. "The VK in charge can think of quite a few things he'd like to do to you."

"This is getting really sexy, but I feel like I should point out that I'm a shifter and I can hear every word," Damian drawled from a couple of feet away. "Also, there are children in this parade, so if clothes are coming off, we should probably send them indoors."

"Ignore him," Roman ordered. "He's just pissed because he's fighting with Marcus."

Damian's mouth dropped open in outrage. "What? No, we aren't."

The loud banging of drums from the parade bands signaled that the parade had finally taken their first few steps on the carefully plotted route, but nothing inside Grant relaxed. He'd be twisted in knots until it ended.

"I heard you two bickering while Grant was giving some of the teams last-minute instructions," Roman argued.

Damian stuck a finger in the collar of his shirt, and his dark gaze grew pained. "Chrys and I thought it best to wait until the last minute to tell Marcus that he was going to be on the float with our Emperors. We knew Marcus wouldn't want the spotlight on him, but he's the Ducsarcelle and leads Draconis Enterprises. Marcus was adamant that he wasn't getting on the float."

Grant had missed the earlier argument and imagined Marcus hadn't appreciated having the news sprung on him. "How did that work out?"

"Marcus is above us on the balcony Chrys and Elf reserved for our High Kings and the D'Vaires who preferred not to be in the bleachers on the road," Damian muttered.

Roman laughed. "He's still pissed, isn't he?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Damian said, though fear lingered in his black eyes.

"You're welcome to come sleep on our couch if you need a place to stay tonight," Roman teased.

"You're not funny."

Grant's magical communication device sparked to life as teams kept him updated on how the parade was progressing as it passed their assigned spots. Thankfully, everything was running smoothly so far.

"We could send a few fallen knights to your condo tonight in case Marcus decides he wants to murder you," Roman told Damian.

The Imperial Duke glared. "Grant deserves better than you."

"You guys are cute, but shut up. I need to hear my teams," Grant ordered.

Roman grinned and mimed zipping his mouth closed while Damian stood in the bright sun with a disgruntled expression on his handsome face.

Time raced by, and before long, the parade was in sight. Past the first band was a large group of adorable elven children dancing in the street in beautiful costumes.

"I'm glad the Virfenwyn tribe finally responded to Kalthekor," Damian said. "Zane was furious when he called their leader. The thought of any tribe not wanting to deal with the Valzadari because of some old incident or due to their skin tone didn't sit well with any of us."

"Okay, Grant didn't tell me shit about his meetings," Roman replied. "What happened with the Virfenwyn?"

"Complete miscommunication, thankfully," Grant explained as he waved at the smiling children. "Chieftain Virfenwyn has a new assistant. Apparently, the elf is young and a relative. Either they didn't train the poor kid or he's disorganized. Kalthekor's messages never made it to his chieftain. Zane called from the Office of the Emperor, which made the kid panic. He literally pulled his chieftain out of the bathroom to talk to Zane. Chieftain Virfenwyn immediately called Kalthekor and was delighted to be included in the parade."

"Sounds like the Virfenwyn tribe needs a Kyle," Roman said.

"Everyone needs a Kyle," Grant replied.

With the parade in full swing, Grant had little chance to gossip with Roman and Damian. In his ear was a steady stream of positive communication, and although his sweating issue had calmed, Grant was still focused on ensuring nothing went wrong. When the last person sailed to the end of the parade route, he'd allow himself to relax.

But he had to admit, it was impossible not to enjoy the magnificent floats rising high above the street, the smartly dressed bands, and the incredible dancing provided by groups or tribes like the Virfenwyn. The Council had outdone themselves, and it was a glorious way to celebrate the strength, diversity, and ever-growing populations their government included.

∞∞∞

Seated in the passenger seat of Roman's personal vehicle, Grant rubbed his hands on his jeans as his mate pulled into a parking spot.

"This is the place, huh?" Roman asked.

"Yep, I figured if I let this Bradley character pick where he wanted us to meet, he'd be more inclined to accept my invitation."

"Well, a nondescript coffee shop with few people should give us a chance to chat."

"Unless someone calls the cops the minute we walk through the door."

"Vampires walk around on human land regularly. Rarely does anyone bother to even talk to them, let alone involve the police."

"Okay, is it stupid to be nervous?" Grant asked.

Roman trailed his fingers along Grant's jaw as they turned to face each other. Leaning forward, Roman slipped his tongue between Grant's lips and kissed him softly and slowly. The tenderness of it swept through Grant, and he smiled in appreciation for Roman and the love they'd built.

"You're never stupid," Roman told him. "And every emotion is valid. For instance, I'm getting a little turned on because I know the minute we walk in that coffee shop, you're going to roast this jerk's balls."

Grant laughed. "I'll start by being cordial."

"Come on, Mr. Geniality, let's go meet your ex."

" Ew , can we not call him that?"

Grinning, Roman unsnapped his seatbelt. "Whatever you want, baby."

Since rolling his eyes would be a waste of effort, Grant climbed out of the car and stalked to the door. Roman pulled it open, and Grant sailed through, his eyes immediately locking on the immaculately dressed lawyer who was already seated. Heading for Reginald, Grant noted the exact instant his brown eyes landed on Roman. His mouth curled into a sneer. Was Reginald reacting like that because Roman was a fallen knight, or had he figured out his connection to Grant?

"I wasn't aware you were bringing company," Reginald stated tightly as Grant took a seat opposite him at the small table. No one else paid Grant any attention, so he figured they didn't mind that a couple of fallen knights were currently breaking a two-centuries-old treaty.

"Reginald Bradley, this is Roman," Grant said.

"I don't care who he is." Reginald's gaze landed on Grant's left hand and the two rings Roman had given him as Grant's senses told him Bradley's words were a lie. "Are you married?"

"Mated."

"Excuse me?"

"It's like being married," Grant replied. "Sort of. I'm not sure how to explain. I'm no expert in human customs."

"So, you moved on," Reginald remarked. "Nothing we had together meant anything to you."

"Pretty sure I already told you I have no memory of being a human."

"How can I trust your word?"

Grant cocked his head as he studied Reginald. "I don't know. Most people do, but I'm not sure you'll buy the whole incorruptible soldier thing."

"Fallen knights can lie," Roman pointed out.

"Good point. I guess Reginald can't believe shit that comes out of my mouth. Maybe I do remember stuff," Grant said, wondering how Reginald would react if he thought there was any shred of memory left of his former life.

"What do you remember?" Reginald demanded.

Leaning back in his chair, Grant studied Reginald. "When did you find out I was dead?"

"Excuse me?"

"I figured someone had to tell you. We were in love and all that. I couldn't have disappeared without you worrying."

"What I recall is that you broke things off," Reginald said. That was the truth, and Grant was grateful for his senses. And his human self for dumping Reginald before he breathed his last. "Our love was past tense because you died."

"So, I broke your heart?"

Reginald tugged on his sleeves. A sign of nerves. "Of course. I gave you everything."

"Did you?" Grant pressed as his senses told him that Calisto had not held Reginald's heart but Bradley was willing to lie about it. "We didn't share our lives fully, did we? You have a family. I'm sure they expect you home at night. But that is really beside the point. When did you learn I was dead?"

"Naturally, I was told."

Grant blinked at that glaring untruth. "Who informed you?"

"I don't appreciate these questions."

"What would you prefer to discuss?"

"Your recollection of your life before you became a zombie."

"I despise the word zombie ," Roman muttered.

"I can't help if your delicate sensibilities are offended by the truth," Reginald replied with a condescending smile that completely suited the pompous man. "It would be best for you to wait outside in your vehicle until I'm done speaking with Grant. That way we can speak freely and your feelings aren't hurt."

Roman glanced at Grant, and merriment danced in his blue eyes. "Would you like me to wait outside?"

"As long as you think your delicate sensibilities can handle it, you can stay at the table with us."

"While I would prefer him to go," Reginald stated tightly.

"You're used to getting what you want, aren't you, Reginald?" Grant asked.

"This aggressive way of speaking to me is inappropriate."

"Too bad. Tell me how you found out I was dead."

Reginald's face flushed with anger, and he clenched his teeth. His gaze skittered to the phone he had sitting on the table, and he tapped the screen a few times. "Do not give me orders, Grant."

"Breaking up with you was like an order, wasn't it?" Grant asked, his belief growing that Reginald had everything to do with the end of his life. "You didn't appreciate it. Did it make you mad? Did you lose control a little?"

To Grant's surprise, Reginald's mouth curled into a smug smile. "Even as a zombie, you make poor choices."

The door behind Grant opened, and he turned to watch a cop walk in. He was broad-shouldered and had killer blond highlights.

"Grant Calisto, you're under arrest," the human stated.

Grant heard Roman chuckle and nearly lost it, but he bit his lip until his humor faded.

"What?" Grant said.

"I have a warrant for your arrest," the cop repeated. "You are Grant Calisto, aren't you?"

Although he'd hoped to learn more, Grant wasn't surprised that his little audience with Reginald was over. There had been no confession, but Grant could readily imagine the haughty Reginald deciding everything for Calisto—including how his life ended. But some corner of Grant's mind wondered if Reginald had had the balls to do the deed himself or if he'd ordered some sycophant like the cop to do his dirty work for him.

Grant rose to his feet. "Nope, I'm not Calisto. My name is Venerable Knight Grant Valerius. You probably don't know what a Venerable Knight is, but that's okay, because you likely don't care either."

"I can still arrest you for being in human territory," the cop insisted, grabbing Grant's upper arm. It shifted his sleeve enough that nearly his full mating mark was visible.

"Is that a tattoo?" Reginald shrieked.

"No, but tattoos are awesome," Grant replied. "However, I'm going to have to ask your friend here to get his hand off me."

"Reg?" the cop asked, his voice ripe with trepidation. A look passed between the two men that had Grant immediately feeling sorry for the uniformed man.

"Oh, is this the new boyfriend, Reg?" Grant asked. "At least you have good taste in men. What I can't figure out is why anyone would waste their time with you."

"Arrest him," Reginald ordered.

Roman reached out and casually brushed the cop's hand off Grant's arm. "My mate is too nice to shrug you off, but you really need to keep your damn hands off him."

"Thanks," Grant said to Roman.

"You're welcome, baby. Should we go?"

"Yeah, one quick thing first," Grant commented, lacing his fingers with Roman's as he glanced at the nameplate on the cop's chest. "Listen, Smith. I'm a fallen knight. To become one, I had to die. Not like in my sleep or something. I lack memory of my human life, but it's highly likely someone murdered me. Fun fact. I can sense lies. Reg here tells a lot of them. Might want to consider that. He's not worth breaking any laws or losing your life because there's no guarantee that you'll wind up like me with a resurrection. And don't do anything stupid like trying to arrest any fallen knight, sentinel, or reaper. That's not going to work. Even if you managed to cuff me, I can teleport away. Be sensible, okay? See you around, Reg."

Grant smiled at Reginald's outraged gasp as he stalked out with Roman. Whatever he'd been in his past was irrelevant, and he wouldn't bother thinking about Reginald Bradley again.