Page 23 of Honorable Convictions
“We’re fallen knights,” Mitchell eventually said. “That requires us to act with honor. Obeying Fate is part of that. I’m not going away, and I will never agree to the demonic spell. I suggest you get used to having me around.”
With that, Mitchell stepped back and shimmered out of view. Pierson had no idea what to think, so he calmly returned to unpacking his boxes. How had his perfect plan officially failed?
Chapter 13
Mitchell had to cool off after his visit to Pierson’s new apartment. The very idea that he was making a home for himself in a different city was infuriating, but it was their conversation that had truly rattled him. Whatever issues they had or would have in the future weren’t going to stop them from moving forward. Mitchell was determined to not allow their petty shit to continue to dominate the matebond that should’ve been the center of their lives. To prevent another fight, Mitchell had stayed away. They’d already missed so much, but losing a few more days to get his head in order was unavoidable.
Pierson was being honest when he told him that he’d knocked on the door during training. Why he didn’t announce himself was a question perhaps neither of them could answer. If pressed, Mitchell speculated that Pierson would insist the only person he’d dare tell to fuck off was him. That short discussion had been eye-opening. Pierson thought Mitchell had a strong animosity toward him. That was not the truth and never had been.
Had he grown upset with him? Absolutely. They were too alike in some ways for that not to happen, but there wasn’t hate in his soul for Pierson, nor would it ever take root. It was impossible to pinpoint why they always got so riled up in each other’s presence, but he wasn’t going to let it keep him from what was his.
It was Mitchell’s belief that they were meant to be two halves of the same whole. It hadn’t occurred to him that Pierson was desperate enough to cure his loneliness that he’d suggest they sever their connection, because he’d been waiting for the right moment for them. The thought of someone else with Pierson made Mitchell see red. No one was going to put their hands on him, not while Mitchell enjoyed his immortality.
What Pierson was correct about was that they needed a fresh start. It would’ve been preferable if they were both living on the same coast so their time zones were the same and honestly, he’d kept his condo up-to-date and decorated for the day Pierson moved in, and that was what he wanted. So, it was up to Mitchell to convince his stubborn other half that they were perfectly matched. While his workload was now higher, thanks to Pierson skipping out to join the DC office, Mitchell was still intent on giving his relationship the same kind of determination he turned toward his career. Pierson needed to be ready to be swept off his fucking feet, because Mitchell refused to accept anything less.
From the grapevine of gossip so innate to fallen knights, Mitchell had learned that Pierson’s new job would start Monday morning. Briefly, he wondered what Pierson had done on his vacation. Mitchell took one each year, and while he might spend an afternoon on the beach, most of it was dedicated to mundane things like having his floors deep-cleaned or a home improvement project. The idea of Pierson in a tiny bathing suit laying out in the sun brought a smile to his face. Normally he would squash those kinds of thoughts unless he was jerking off, but Mitchell let it blossom and take hold.
If he expected Pierson to take his pursuit seriously, then Mitchell had to make moments like that more than fantasy. That thought in mind, Mitchell snatched up the yellow flowers that had reminded him of his other half and teleported to the Dérive station around the corner from Pierson’s apartment. The walk was short, and Mitchell paused for only a second before he knocked. When the door opened, he grinned at his barefoot mate.
“Hey, Blondie.”
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“Invite me in.”
“I don’t know why I need to, it’s not like you’re going to leave if I don’t. You’re too stubborn to let anything I say sway your actions.”
“Good point,” Mitchell retorted, gently shoving Pierson out of the way to enter the small apartment. Breathing in the lovely scent of peppermint that filled his senses if Pierson was nearby, he held in a smile. That smell was one of the reasons Mitchell adored the holidays. As the winter solstice approached, peppermint was everywhere, and he’d made his preference known to his friends. It was a good thing he couldn’t gain extra weight, because he averaged a bag of cookies or candy a day for weeks every December. The attraction that crackled between them had his blood heating, but he ignored it. Although he was restless for the opportunity to strip Pierson, he had to work on convincing his big brain they were destined for eternity first. “Do you have a vase?”
“Yeah, give me those.”
Mitchell handed him the bouquet. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Pierson said in a quiet voice. Walking into the kitchen—which had to be the largest room in his apartment—Mitchell’s gaze locked on Pierson’s ass. It was delightfully showcased in a pair of old jeans, and the casualness suited Pierson nearly as much as the crisp dress uniform he normally wore. Unlike the other Juris Knights, who preferred the more comfortable and less formal version when they weren’t expected in court, Pierson always chose the finer regalia.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”
“No. You’ll tell me without having to ask. Your ego is about as renowned as my iciness.”
Mitchell pursed his lips while he thought about it. Although he had a healthy ego, as did Pierson, they’d both earned it. They were the best. “If you’re trying to insult me, it’s not working.”
“It won’t be long before we fight,” Pierson predicted, fussing with the blooms he’d stuck in a clear vase.
“I don’t mind fighting with you, Blondie. I think we both like swapping words, and in our profession, enjoying an argument is part of making our case.”
Pierson leaned a hip on the counter. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you have annoying nicknames for all your other coworkers too, and that everything that happens between us is so commonplace it never occurred to you that I might want something different in a mate.”
“I’ve called Peter ‘Pete;’ does that count?” Juris Knight Peter Malcolmson was one of many Juris Knights assigned to Vegas, and Mitchell considered him one of his inner circle of friends.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay, if we’re being strictly honest, I have referred to Noah as Garbagebreath, but if he’d carry around breath mints, he wouldn’t have earned that. I swear he must eat shit just to piss me off.”
“I’m sure JK Cavendish enjoys that.”
“I never asked him if he liked the name, but I did tell him on more than one occasion to close his mouth when he breathes.”
“This is all very fascinating, and I’m sure we both have better things to do than discuss your coworkers, so if you don’t mind, it’d be best if you left.”
