Chapter 8

G rant's bags were packed. Nearly everything was already in the car he'd purchased and hidden from Reginald. Since money would be an issue, Grant had tucked away anything tiny and expensive from his condo. A decorator hired by Reginald had designed everything, and Grant hadn't liked it from the start. The place was almost entirely white, and nothing was comfortable. The furniture was stark and modern.

Even the artwork on the walls was predominately white in gold frames. Cabinets, walls, area rugs, and the bedding all had the same lack of color. There wasn't any wood or other texture to break up the monotony. Grant promised himself that he'd have color in his new space. At least whoever moved into the condo after Grant would have a blank slate to create their vision.

Not that thinking about what came next did anything to lessen Grant's guilt or fear. He'd never been on his own. Reginald had made his decisions. It had chafed in his youth, but Grant had listened when Reginald assured him that, because of their four-year age gap, he knew what was best for them both.

That silly boy hadn't figured out that Reginald was addicted to control. Grant refused to examine why it'd taken him so long to figure out that he'd been molded into what Reginald wanted with no thought to his desires. And as much as Grant wanted to explore life, he was frightened.

He was walking out and had to trust himself.

Sucking in a deep breath and hoping he was up to the task ahead of him, Grant bypassed the phone Reginald had bought him and tapped the screen of his secret one.

"Did you look at a clock?" an amused male voice asked.

Grant's brows drew together. "No, but I guess it's, like, seven."

"Yeah, it's the first time I haven't had to wake up to take one of your calls. I'm glad to hear from you. How's your reading going?"

Unfortunately, Grant had had little opportunity to explore the world of the Council. Reginald was growing more impatient with each day, and Grant had to devote his energy to expediting his future plans. "I've got some shit going on, but I read that stuff about your Reverent Knights."

"Did you Google it?" Roman asked. "I don't want you to blindly take my word for anything."

In that way, Roman had Grant's full respect. Reginald told him what to do and what to believe. If Grant tried to think on his own, it pissed Reginald off, and he accused Grant of lacking trust in him. Grant wasn't allowed to have any beliefs that deviated from Reginald's either.

"Yeah, I didn't find too much," Grant confided. "You're not going to like this, but some humans are, like, proud and shit that they killed those Emperors. They don't really believe your Reverent Knights are the same guys though."

"Honestly, I don't give a shit what humans believe," Roman said. He cleared his throat loudly. "Present company excluded, of course."

"It's okay, you can offend me. You have no reason to be nice to me. I haven't been nice to you."

Finding out that a fallen knight believed they were mates was still fucking up Grant's headspace, but he was trying to be reasonable. Roman probably wasn't a zombie. That didn't mean zombies didn't exist, but maybe fallen knights didn't fall into that category.

Grant's thoughts were fuzzy most of the time, but he hadn't had any beer since that morning. Even with a clear mind, Grant didn't know what to make of the situation. The timing sucked.

"You're doing your best to learn about me and my world, which I appreciate. All your life, you've been taught to avoid people like me. I'm not going to slap a deadline on your feelings. You deserve whatever space you need to adjust to this new reality Fate has thrown us both in. To be honest, I'm adapting too. I'm the first fallen knight to be paired with a human."

"I guess because humans killed your bosses, you might be pissed."

"Exactly. Humans also don't make my job easy. But I refuse to hold that against you."

"I was a cop. A few years ago, I was doing everything I was told, including fucking up crime scenes for fallen knights."

Roman sighed. "At least we have law enforcement in common."

"Yeah, look. I called because I'm going through some shit," Grant said. "I've decided to move. Break up with Reginald. Shit like that. I gotta disappear, so you may not hear from me for a while. I gotta find a place to live and all that. And since we're being honest, I still need to think about this mate business. You gave me all this stuff, and I haven't had a chance to read everything yet."

"I appreciate you letting me know. Good luck with your move. If you need help with anything, I hope you'll at least consider me a friend you can count on. I'll unpack a box or slap some paint on the wall with you."

A strange picture flashed in Grant's mind of him standing in a living room decorated in blue, green, and silver. Roman was there at his side, and they were laughing. Gone were the blond highlights Reginald insisted Grant keep in his hair, and Roman's fingers toyed with his naturally brunet tresses.

What the fuck was that? Grant wondered as he shook his head.

"Yeah, thanks, man."

"I won't call you. Take as long as you need, and I'll be here."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"Look, this situation is complicated, but I'm unwilling to take out my conflicting emotions on you. On my mate. I can't predict the future, but I've waited a long time to find the other half of my soul. That's you. Only Fate knows if our bond is a good one. Someday I'd like us to discover that truth for ourselves. In recent years, I've learned from my family that Fate doesn't always get the timing right. I respect that your life didn't begin the day we met. All I can do is offer my friendship and hope you take me up on that someday."

Grant was inexplicably moved to tears. Why the hell he was suddenly emotional was baffling, and he blamed it on the rush job he'd had to put on his plans. But he had to admit, having a friend like Roman didn't sound like a bad thing. Maybe he could do that. Be his friend. But it had to wait until Grant faced Reginald and rebuilt everything.

"Let me get settled. Give me a few months or whatever. Then maybe I'll call you and we can work on this friends thing."

"Sounds good, but seriously, if you need anything in the meantime, you can call me, and I'll try to help."

"Thanks," Grant replied, touched by the offer, which did nothing to smooth out his suddenly turbulent emotions. "Hopefully, I'll talk to you in a few months."

"Take care of yourself."

"You too."

Grant disconnected the call and sucked in a deep breath. One task in his evening was complete.

Now he had to deal with Reginald.

∞∞∞

Roman walked into Redmilla's and wasn't surprised to find the Reverent Knights, Arvandus, and Albrecht already seated in the back.

"Hey," Redmilla called out. The bear shifter flashed him a smile and pulled a beer for him. "How are you?"

"Hanging in there," Roman replied. There was no need to ask if he wanted a tab started. She had the number of his identification card in her system and automatically added his drinks to it. The card served as a method of payment and the key to everywhere he needed to go. At the end of the night, Roman would add a healthy tip. "How's your mate?"

"You guys put her on call tonight," Redmilla complained with a narrowing of her brown eyes. "I better get some sleep."

Roman grinned. "I'll see what I can do to ensure no crime happens until morning."

"If it were that easy, we wouldn't need fallen knights. Dude, what would I do without Ramona?"

"I'm glad you have her," Roman replied as he saluted her with his drink and weaved his way toward the table where his friends sat. It wasn't public knowledge that Roman had met his mate, and that was a relief. The last thing he wanted was to be constantly reminded by everyone he bumped into how tricky his relationship was starting off, and he didn't want anyone's pity either. Although it hadn't been love at first sight, there was nothing yet to suggest it was hopeless.

"Roman," Arvandus said when he spotted him. His best friend grabbed another chair, and Roman took a seat gratefully. "What's up? I wasn't sure if you'd be here tonight."

"My plan was to work, but Grant called."

"Is that a good or bad thing?" Drystan asked.

Roman shrugged. "I guess that depends on how you look at it. He asked me for space. Apparently, he's decided to change his life. Disappear for a while, he said. He's leaving the boyfriend and moving. With so much upheaval, he doesn't want any distractions, I suppose. I can understand it, and I appreciate that he warned me I wouldn't hear from him for a bit."

"We'll call it progress," Conley replied, understanding and compassion bright in his gold eyes.

"Yeah," Roman said. "Grant hasn't had much time lately to read the stuff I gave him, but he found the section about you guys and your past. He also did some of his own research and discovered that there are humans proud of your deaths. It didn't sound like that sat well with him. To me, that's encouraging."

"I am sorry your matebond is full of conflict right now," Albrecht stated. "But I cannot be mad at Fate for bringing your other half into your life."

"Thanks, Albie. I don't know how things are going to work out yet. We've learned very little about each other. I'm not sure if he still believes I'm a zombie or that our world is inherently evil or whatever else humans try to say about us."

"Being in limbo isn't great either," Arvandus pointed out. "How're you feeling?"

"I don't know," Roman said after a healthy swallow of beer. "Obviously, I'm grateful Fate didn't forget me, but as for the man himself…I can't decide if I like him. I'm trying not to hold it against him that, except for today, our few phone conversations have been in the middle of the night when he's inebriated. It's hard to figure out how I'm supposed to feel. Confused, I guess, is the main thing, and startled that he's human. I can't seem to get past that hurdle yet. Maybe this space is good for both of us. I need to deal with my own shit too."

"Fate fucked up with the timing," Drystan remarked with a frown.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Roman responded. No matter how he tried, there was no easy road ahead for him and Grant. But he had to believe that Fate hadn't completely erred. Or at least that was what he hoped. "Also, what does the future look like? Is he willing to give up his life to join the Council?"

"Technically, he has no choice," Drystan stated. "The treaty we have with humans means that he's right now living outside the law. But you know that, and we aren't going to alert any fucking cops."

"He used to be one," Roman revealed.

That startling admission hadn't helped Roman's adjustment to having a human mate. Cops were a daily headache for Roman and every fallen knight. How many cases had Grant obscured? They'd met because Grant had been trying to get a horrible criminal out of trouble—a simple picture would've meant that the victim would be hauled off human land and forced to start anew within the Council whether she was ready or not.

Grant clearly took no issue with how problematic his job was, and that made Roman uneasy. To Roman, the treaty shouldn't matter. The human police and fallen knights should be united in keeping the peace and ensuring criminals faced justice. But it had never worked that way. And that pissed Roman off.

Roman realized he had some deep-seated issues with Grant, and he needed to explore them in depth. Could he forget the way they'd met? Did Grant understand how awful the job he'd taken was? What would happen if Grant wanted to continue being a private investigator tracking people connected to the Council in some way?

The thought sent a terrible sense of dread through Roman, and he shivered uncomfortably.

Although his matebond was new, it was already a quagmire.