Page 7 of Mystique of the Fallen
“Let me give you my phone number.”
“Why?”
“Because we have a lot to discuss, Grant.”
“I’m not calling you.”
Roman’s mouth thinned, which some part of Grant’s mind noted did nothing to take away from his beauty. Grant shook his head. Zombies weren’t beautiful. They were undead creatures, and he needed to get away from this one because he was scrambling Grant’s brain.
“Take it anyway.”
Grant stared at Roman and crossed his arms. After several seconds of staring at one another, Roman sighed heavily.
“Stop being such a hardass and put my number in your phone,” Roman said.
With a roll of his eyes, Grant opened his glove box, tugged out the phone Reginald didn’t pay for, and added Roman as a contact.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to make things easy on me and give me your number?” Roman asked.
“I’ll do anything to get you to leave me alone,” Grant replied, surprising himself as he relayed his digits to the fallen knight. What in the fuck was wrong with him? And what had Roman been talking about when he’d told Grant they were mates? What did that mean?
“Think about what you’re doing,” Roman stated as he pocketed his phone. “This woman nearly died, and her ex-husband was the culprit. There’s a video of the crime. His guilt is not in dispute. If he stays on the street, he could do this again. Do you want someone’s blood on your hands?”
“It’s not my job to decide who is guilty and who isn’t,” Grant remarked, though his conscience had been eating at him since Reginald first called him with this horrible assignment. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Fine.”
A second later, Roman shimmered out of sight, giving Grant no opportunity to photograph him with the woman. Frightened of Roman’s ability to disappear, Grant started his car. Fuck Reginald and his fits; Grant needed a drink.
∞∞∞
Roman teleported to the porch of the woman’s house he’d agreed to visit at James’s request and breathed in deeply. Closing his eyes, Roman tried to settle his thoughts and emotions. Meeting his mate had not been on his radar that morning. He should’ve been thanking Fate, but Roman was assailed by nerves.
How the hell did a fallen knight get a human mate?
More importantly, why was he paired with a man who believed Roman was a zombie and had only offered his number under duress? With short brown hair expertly highlighted heavily with blond and extraordinary green eyes, Grant was gorgeous—except for the hostility and belligerence in that remarkable gaze. Roman had stood there with his erection wilting and his senses flooded with the scent of fresh limes while Grant scowled at him.
It was not the meeting of Roman’s dreams, but he couldn’t allow fear of the path ahead to cloud his judgment. Or his innate dislike of humans to be a barrier to his happiness. Humans had murdered his bosses, and every day, they worked hard to make the lives of fallen knights and sentinels working on cases as difficult as possible. But that wasn’t Grant’s fault.
Roman wasn’t crazy about Grant’s job either. Private investigators were rare in the Council, but Roman wasn’t against the profession. What worried him was Grant’s choice to work for someone unscrupulous enough to get evidence to throw out a case of a man clearly intent on hurting people. The woman inside the house had barely escaped with her life. Roman had seen much in his six-hundred-fifty-four years of life.
The horrible man who’d hurt her would do the same thing to another person if he was pushed. Roman wanted to do what he could to prevent crime, including keeping the mate he’d just met from getting the evidence he wanted. Irritated that the day he’d eagerly awaited for so long wasn’t overwhelmingly happy, Roman knocked on the door and set aside his misgivings for the moment.
Sir Sebastian Morozov, the vampire charged with keeping James safe, opened the door, and there was concern in his light blue gaze.
“You okay?” Sebastian asked.
Roman let out an uneasy chuckle. “You won’t believe it when I tell you, but let’s figure this situation out first.”
“Get in here,” Sebastian said, stepping aside to allow Roman to walk into the well-appointed townhouse with dark wooden floors and soft gray walls. “I take it you found the guy following her?”
“He’s a private investigator.”
“Okay, well, at least we know he’s not a goon with a weapon intent on hurting her,” Sebastian replied.
“True.”
Roman wasn’t ready to reveal the truth yet, so he ventured inside to meet the scared woman Grant was tailing and assured her she was in no immediate danger. However, it would be tricky for her and her mate to see each other if Grant was any good at his job. It would have to be worked out. Roman didn’t want any part of two mates being separated.
