Page 97 of Honorable Convictions
“Or anything you like that has a cord or batteries,” Mitchell tacked on.
“Okay,” Tucker responded, his expression wary as the RKs left. “Is that my desk out there?”
“Yes, your first task is to get comfortable,” Pierson instructed. “You have an account with our office supplier. Feel free to order what you need to make your job as easy as possible.”
“Thanks, I’ll go get started,” Tucker promised. Turning to leave, he went facedown over the carpet again. “I’m good,” he called out, scrambling to his feet.
“He seems great,” Mitchell said once Tucker was gone.
“Yeah, but we’re going to have to figure out how to minimize the hazard of our office entrance.”
Mitchell shook his head slightly. “Good luck with that, Blondie. I can’t figure out what’s causing him to trip. There’s no step or even a change in flooring.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“Of course we will, we’re an awesome team.”
Pierson offered his mate a smile. “Damn right we are.”
Chapter 44
Mitchell held the door open for his mate, and he considered admiring Pierson’s perfect ass, which was exquisite in his uniform pants—one of the many perks of being together.
“Good afternoon,” Evergreen Tenebri, one of the two office managers for the Sentinel Brotherhood, said from behind a giant desk with the sentinel once tied to his soul, Dudley Tenebri, at his side.
“How are you?” Pierson asked after the four men greeted each other.
“Wonderful, and how is our favorite Master Juris Knight couple doing after six weeks of mated bliss?”
“If it gets any better, it’s probably going to kill me, and I’ll need the Arch Lich to resurrect me again,” Mitchell teased.
“Always bragging about your sex life,” Arvandus remarked from behind them as he breezed through the doors. “And move out of the way, I have an Apple to kiss.”
Mitchell brushed his lips over Pierson’s and waved good-bye to Evergreen and Dudley, then followed Arvandus into the magnificent boardroom that was built as an homage to the men who ruled the Sentinel Brotherhood. It was anchored by an enormous round table that had nine points in the center that represented the Lich Sentinel, the Skeleton Seven, and the Lich Reaper. Although technically not a sentinel, the Lich Reaper, Grymington Daray, refused to allow anyone to treat the reapers as a separate entity.
There was no argument from others in his race since it consisted of only him. Although it was now common knowledge that the Arch Lich was willing to resurrect more reapers, Grymington would not allow it. Mitchell didn’t know Grymington well enough to know his reasons, but he’d guess that being surrounded by the most elite assassins might not provide a great deal of confidence that any race—let alone one with a single guy—could offer anything at their level. As a fallen knight with twice as many brethren as any sentinel, Mitchell understood if Grymington was intimidated. The Sentinel Brotherhood with their weaponry skills and code of honor had no rivals.
Like every member of the Order of the Fallen Knights he’d ever spoken with, he was proud that the Sentinel Brotherhood had been asked and accepted some of the duties which formerly belonged solely to Mitchell’s race. It was incredible to work alongside them, and he and Pierson were in contact daily with Skeleton Lords Gavrael and Gedeon D’Vaire, who had roles in their structure like the Master Juris Knights. The Sentinel Brotherhood had adopted Shadow Lords as their version of Juris Knights and since they all protected and defended the Council, they had cases that overlapped or were swapped.
Because the sentinels rarely, if ever, touched anyone besides their mate, Mitchell and Pierson exchanged nods with the enigmatic resurrected men who’d once been cruelly tied to the souls of necromancers. Five of the Skeleton Seven had been ordered to do things so heinous it had robbed them of their humanity, stripping away their flesh and leaving them as a collection of bones. Their outward appearances had eventually healed, freeing them of endless hunger and the stares of people who blamed them for the throats they’d slashed, but Mitchell doubted any of them had escaped without mental scars from those dark days.
After taking a seat, Mitchell scooted close enough to Pierson to lay a hand on his thigh. With their relationship out in the open, he rarely missed an opportunity to touch him, and he smiled when Pierson laced their fingers together. While Pierson was quick to mention the snuggles Mitchell always sought out, he moved just as fast to offer affection. In every possible way, he was a wonderful partner who Mitchell loved more with each passing day. Careful not to get carried away with those kinds of thoughts since they eventually led to lavishing Pierson with the joy inside him, Mitchell waited as the RKs arrived with Roman and took their seats. They got together each week for a status meeting, and Mitchell had learned a great deal about the bigger picture. It gave him a broader understanding of how both races functioned within the political machine of the Council.
“Are we ready to get started?” Alaric asked. Mitchell liked to amuse himself by trying to read the expressions of any of the sentinels, but rarely did he pick up on anything. Today was no exception. The world could be on fire, and on Alaric’s face there’d be nothing but confidence that somehow, he and his men were going to save it.
“You bet, where do you want to start?” Conley inquired.
“With the Consilium Veneficus,” Alaric intoned. Once the Council had flourished in Europe, but approximately two hundred years ago there had been a split. As with most diplomatic things, it boiled down to differences of opinion. The Arch Lich had led the Council since the fall of the original Coven of Warlocks, but the leader of the wizards had coveted the job. That was only the beginning—what he’d genuinely wanted was to do as he pleased without answering to anyone. The Council was eventually handed to the dragons and many shifters and magickind fled their homes to restart their lives in North America, allowing him to get what he desired. Arch Wizard Egidius Giles created the Consilium but had been poisoned by his son decades later.
More than a year ago, the new man picked by Fate—Severin Dewitt—had left the Consilium to reunite with his mate, Prism Wizard Vadimas. The first Prism Wizard had fled Europe to join the Council and was selected to govern the small number of his brethren who joined him. Now both men were marked by lightning and led the Spectra Wizardry. Egidius’s son, Jael, had coveted the role of Arch Wizard himself and had tried to kill Severin countless times. In the end it was Jael who lost his life. A band of wizards calling themselves the Giles Tribunal had named themselves rulers of the Consilium. Tasked with protecting the Council from outside threats, the Sentinel Brotherhood regularly spied on the Consilium to find out their intentions.
Roman lifted a brow. “Something new up with them?”
“They haven’t announced anything concrete, but something is definitely brewing over there,” Skeleton Lord Cassius Daray stated. “When King Kestle did his shit with High King Rafe and fled to Court Ethelin, allowing us to apprehend both men for at least some of their heinous crimes, it left only a single dragon court in Europe.”
“And King Variusdraconis is not resting on his laurels,” Skeleton Lord Brynnius Daray said. “He is visiting the Giles Tribunal with regularity. We’ve gathered that he’s trying to interest them in creating a military or police force—perhaps a combination of both.”
“At first, the Giles Tribunal appeared to be simply amused by the idea of it. But King Varius has been persistent and expanding upon his idea. He’s appealing to their fear of sentinels and what might happen if the Council decides to attack,” Skeleton Lord Eduard Daray remarked.
