Chapter 8
W ith a sadistic grin, Chander slammed his sneakered foot on a pedal and whipped the steering wheel to the right. He chuckled as his car rammed into another vehicle and didn’t mind the jolt it sent through his entire body. The man in the other car turned toward him with a narrow-eyed stare. That glowing chartreuse gaze frightened many. But not Chander.
The Arch Lich flipped the bird to the man he loved more than life and set his eyes on his next target. As soon as Alaric moved forward to get away from Chander, the imp-necromancer hybrid carefully weaved through two Skeleton Lords to smash Daemon Lord Baxter Daray into the wall.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Baxter shouted over the din of the small track.
Chander ignored him and wondered how difficult it would be to slam into Baxter’s mate, Benton, next. The two Daemon Lords had guarded Chander since he was a teenager, and he mused it was their fault he never had the opportunity to drive. Like every sentinel, they were obsessed with security, and somehow they felt allowing Chander to take the wheel would endanger him.
It made no sense to Chander—or likely anyone else that wasn’t a sentinel—but the fierce assassins brought to life by necromantic magic were used to being misunderstood. Chander happily shared a bed with the leader of the Sentinel Brotherhood and could honestly say there were moments when it was difficult to understand why sentinels insisted on certain things.
Like keeping Chander from driving. He made another circuit around the track while craftily dodging many of the Darays—a plethora of sentinels, an elf and his pointy-eared brother, a few fallen knights, a druid-necromancer hybrid, and a Russian Blue shifter with a surprising mean streak.
Victor Antonov-Daray rammed into Chander and offered him a sassy wave. “Whoops,” the cat shifter shouted, though there wasn’t an ounce of regret in his green eyes.
Since Chander was determined to wreak havoc with his bumper car, he couldn’t blame Victor for wanting to do the same, so he let him pass without hitting him. As it turned out, that was the best decision Chander had made so far, because it once again put him behind Alaric. Chander floored the small gas pedal, and his vehicle bounced off his mate’s.
Alaric’s gaze met his again, and Chander laughed at the deep scowl on the Lich Sentinel’s extraordinarily handsome face. Thankfully, Alaric ran out of time to plan revenge. A loud horn sounded, and the cars all coasted to a stop. The ride was done.
Chander pulled the safety belt over his head and climbed out. Around him, his family did the same, but they weren’t silent. Many dirty looks were thrown his way, and Chander didn’t miss the grumbled curses either.
“That was so fun,” Evergreen Tenebri exclaimed as he looped an arm through Victor’s. The pair were best friends. Chander was delighted at how much fun everyone was having at the amusement park.
“Agreed,” Victor said with a grin for Chander. “We should ride it again.”
“Great plan,” Chander replied as he followed the peevish sentinels off the track.
“It would have been fun,” Baxter stated, his brown eyes narrowed at Chander. “Except someone was taking it far too seriously.”
“I don’t know what you are complaining about,” Alaric retorted. “Chand slammed into me more than anyone else.”
Chander shrugged. “I miss driving.”
“Well, you’re never getting behind the wheel of a real car again,” Benton declared. “You are a menace.”
“It’s called bumper cars for a reason,” Chander argued.
“As I understood it, you were supposed to bump into people, not slam into them as if you were trying to exact revenge for some past transgression,” Alaric said.
Staring up at his tall mate, Chander had to pull his lips inward to hold in his laughter at the way Alaric’s jaw clenched. His black hair was hanging in a messy tangle and nearly obscuring one beautiful, vibrant green eye. Pissed off and gorgeous, Alaric was a gift from Fate Chander still occasionally wondered if he deserved.
But he didn’t allow those thoughts to dominate his mind. Not anymore. Instead, Chander appreciated the incredible bond he’d built with Alaric. It filled Chander with such pride to know that someone as honorable and sweet as Alaric loved him—because he damn well adored the man with every beat of his half-demonic imp heart.
“Maybe you don’t understand the rules, Lich Sentinel,” Chander teased.
A chirping sound diverted Chander’s attention, and he grimaced as he took in the two cake-covered goblins walking toward them. Behind the goblins Chander had brought to life as a gift to Alaric, a frowning sentinel rushed into view.
“Do not ask me to watch them again,” stated Dudley Tenebri, the sentinel whose soul was once bound to Evergreen’s. There was a distinct bite in his tone.
Alaric smiled, and Chander licked his lips. No matter how many years they’d been together, Chander continued to fantasize about that beautiful mouth.
“What did you do to Dudley?” Alaric asked the goblins.
Rogue shrugged his shoulders and swiped his tongue along the length of one of his usually glowing daggers. He’d apparently removed his poison to use his weapon as a utensil. At his side, Pizza lifted his shirt and sucked some of the frosting off the cotton fabric.
“Do you want me to use a cleansing spell?” Chander asked the two messy goblins as a glob of cake slid off one of Rogue’s earrings and hit the pavement.
With another nonchalant lift of his tiny shoulders, Rogue appeared unconcerned about the state of his black-and-green plush skin or his little jeans and T-shirt. His mate didn’t respond. Pizza was too busy feasting. The pair had a bit of magic and could clean themselves, but they were mischievous and had probably tried to get as dirty as possible. Chander let a wisp of magic fly, and within a second, both foot-tall goblins were squeaky clean.
Pizza lifted his head and narrowed his pewter gaze at Chander. The sound he made in his throat was an angry trill.
“Sorry, but we can get you more food,” Chander said. “You don’t have to eat shit off your clothes.”
“Why did you take them to the cake bar?” Alaric asked Dudley. “I thought the plan was for you to wait with them here.”
“Except they can teleport short distances, and guess where I had to chase them to?” Dudley retorted. “By the time I figured out where they were headed, Pizza had already basically rolled in cake, and Rogue followed suit. You are lucky I managed to talk them into returning here to meet you.”
Annoyed, Pizza snagged a glowing orange dagger from his side and threw it onto the ground. It hit the asphalt with a metallic clink.
“Pizza,” Alaric stated calmly. “Respect your blades.”
The only person the playful goblins responded to consistently was Alaric. Pizza bowed his head, and the sunlight shined on his sleek skin—which resembled the scales of a dragon—as he dutifully picked up his dagger. A second later, it floated at his tiny hip. He made a grumbly sound Chander supposed was an apology.
Alaric held out his arms, and both goblins dove at the chance to be picked up. Rogue climbed up onto Alaric’s shoulder and braced his sneakered feet as Pizza lounged in the Lich Sentinel’s arms. Rogue had the perfect vantage point thanks to Alaric’s height and was often found in the same spot. Pizza loved to be held, but his patience rarely lasted long.
Within minutes, the goblin would be darting around, creating slices of his namesake from his magic, and likely finding some trouble to get into. They were such a fantastic addition to the Daray family, Chander wished he’d summoned them sooner—especially since Alaric unabashedly adored the pair.
“I have the goblins,” Alaric said. “The rest of you can get on the bumper cars again if you wish.”
“No one wants to ride again if Chand is getting in line,” Baxter retorted.
“Oh well, you won’t be missed,” Chander replied.
Alaric smiled at Chander in such a sexy way that the Arch Lich would’ve been perfectly content to leave the park that minute and strip the sentinel at home. Clearly, Alaric had forgiven him for his aggressive bumper car tactics. “Try not to wreak havoc, Chand.”
Chander slipped his fingers into the small gap between Alaric’s hips and the two-toned daggers floating at his sides and nipped his chin. Alaric dipped his head slightly, and their lips met in such a deep kiss that a frisson of lust punched Chander in the belly.
“I still have a few people on my list I want to hit with a car,” Chander said.
“I feel like we should get to arrest him for a statement like that,” Benton complained.
“You work for the Order of the Necromancia,” Alaric pointed out. “You lack the ability to arrest anyone.”
“You’re the Lich Sentinel, you do it then,” Baxter retorted.
“Please, the only time he’s going to put Chand in cuffs is if they’re in their bedroom doing some role-playing,” Evergreen replied.
“Please spare me the visual,” Benton muttered.
“Come on, you big babies, I promise to gently tap your cars because you can’t handle real bumper cars,” Chander taunted.
“This is why everyone thinks necromancers are assholes,” Baxter grumbled.
Chander couldn’t deny the necromancers had their fair share of assholes, but so did every other race. He couldn’t forget what his people had forced the sentinels to endure, and he understood their ire. What they’d lost could never be regained, and some necromancers were definitely assholes.
“Let’s go,” Chander ordered. He rose to the balls of his feet to offer Alaric another kiss, then sailed off to inflict maximum destruction with his bumper car.
∞∞∞
For Preston, being at an amusement park was an interesting experience. It was lovely to have his entire extended family roaming the grounds and eagerly climbing on rides. But the man at his side hadn’t stepped into a single roller coaster line and had skipped the more adventurous water rides since Preston’s brain and the drugs he took daily wouldn’t allow him to enjoy them.
While Preston appreciated that his gorgeous mate didn’t want him to feel left out, his guilt was growing. Preston couldn’t help but wonder if Ridgely was missing out on this grand day by insisting on not leaving him alone. His behavior hadn’t shifted to indicate he was upset. Ridgely held his hand and kissed his dimples. Ridgely’s smile had flashed often since they’d arrived.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get on the rides?” Preston blurted as he strolled alongside Ridgely.
Ridgely’s eyes widened, and Preston’s cheeks heated as he realized he’d practically shouted the question in his mate’s face. He’d halted as well. Thankfully, they weren’t impeding the progress of anyone else. The only people on this part of the path were their immediate family and dearest friends.
“Beautiful, I’m having a wonderful day at your side.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yeah, Ridgely, answer Preston,” demanded FK19 Warner Madison, Ridgely’s best friend. Like Ridgely, Warner had added another rank at the most recent annual fallen knight gathering. The week Preston spent with Ridgely’s race was one of his favorites of the year.
And Preston thought the world of Warner. He was so happy he’d convinced Warner to move into the mansion owned by Preston’s brother and his other half. Warner was a perfect fit in the household, and it pleased Preston that Ridgely had part of his found family under their roof.
“Hey, if I wanted to get on something, I would,” Ridgely said softly as he lifted an arm to caress Preston’s cheek.
“I’d wait for you. I don’t mind.”
“Me too,” Warner added. “I could wait with Pres.”
“I thought you’d ride with Ridge,” Preston replied to the green-eyed blond.
“Hell no,” Warner responded. “If I wanted to live dangerously, I’d be at work. Or I don’t know, eating a chocolate bar without a wrapper so I don’t know what’s mixed in until I bite down. I’m watching these rides and thinking I like my insides exactly how they are right now. The last thing I want to experience is them being sloshed around, bumping against each other. Can internal organs bruise?”
“You’re a fallen knight,” Preston’s brother, Jordan, remarked as he strolled closer to them with his broad-shouldered gargoyle mate at his side. “Can you bruise?”
“I’d rather not find out, Jordan,” Warner protested.
“I just want everyone to have fun,” Preston said.
Ridgely leaned forward and dropped a kiss on Preston’s right dimple. “I’m having a wonderful day.”
Juris Knight Jackson Licitra waved his phone in front of him. Unlike Ridgely, Jackson had ventured onto several roller coasters, and he’d emerged from each of them in high spirits. “I have a ride for us, and it’s right around the corner.”
“I can ride it?” Preston asked.
“Yep, and it’d give you a chance to experience something you normally can’t do,” Jackson confirmed, reaching out to rub Preston’s arm.
“Let’s go then,” Preston replied, curious to know what Jackson had picked out for them to try. No one had pressured him to attempt anything that had the potential to make him dizzy or overwhelm him. Jackson—like everyone else Preston loved—looked out for him.
“Whatever you want, Dimples,” Ridgely said with his killer smile. Preston couldn’t deny the impulse to lean forward and brush his lips against Ridgely’s before he moved his feet.
Although Preston’s stride was slower than the average person’s, no one complained as they made their way around a corner. There was an almost forest-like atmosphere in this part of the park, so Preston didn’t immediately see what Jackson had discovered.
“Yes,” Warner exclaimed. “This is awesome.”
To Preston’s surprise, Warner practically skipped ahead of them.
“Good work, Jackson,” Jordan added.
Preston’s brow creased as he searched for a sign. “Antique cars?”
“Yep,” Jackson said. “You take a little drive on a track. Guess who’s driving a car?”
“I can drive?” Preston asked, astonished. Thanks to his brain injury, Preston had slow reflexes, and although medication aided his epileptic-related seizures, it wasn’t safe for him to drive on a real road.
“Oh yeah,” Jackson replied. “This is going to be a blast.”
Eager to try something he couldn’t do in his daily life, Preston squeezed Ridgely’s hand and tried to hurry his pace. His mate was having none of it.
“Beautiful, the ride isn’t going anywhere,” Ridgely quietly stated. “I don’t want you to trip.”
“Okay, but we can go a little faster,” Preston insisted.
They wound their way up to the start of the ride and found Worth, Oliver, and several other D’Vaires—including the young Zarasha and Orion—climbing out of a row of antique cars.
“Hey guys,” Worth called out.
“Preston, I drove a car,” Zarasha shouted. “It was so much fun.”
“I’m going to drive too,” Preston told the little fairy as she hugged him.
“We should ride again,” Orion insisted.
Worth executed a perfect courtly bow. “As you wish, Orion.”
The children giggled, and Preston was guided toward the cars by Ridgely.
“Oh good, there’s a backseat,” Warner said.
Preston climbed into the car and put his hands on the steering wheel. It was surreal to find himself with his foot on a gas pedal, but as soon as the cars were full and Preston was given the signal, he pressed down. The car jerked forward, and he grimaced as he eased his foot off.
“Whoops,” Preston exclaimed.
Jordan had insisted on driving the car behind him, and Preston was grateful. His overprotective brother wouldn’t allow anyone to ram into his vehicle.
“Relax, the car isn’t perfect. It’s a ride. It’s bound to be a little weird pressing the pedal. It may lurch a bit.”
“Ridge, I’ve never driven an actual car. How would I know the difference?” Preston asked as he gathered his courage and lowered his foot again. To his delight, the car moved forward almost smoothly.
Ridgely chuckled. “Sorry, bad advice. Keep your foot on the gas and steer the best you can.”
Taking Ridgely’s advice, Preston did his best. But what loosened the tension in his shoulders was knowing that a thick piece of metal jutted out in the middle of the track, which would keep his car going in the right direction if he reacted too slowly to keep his wheels from hitting it. A minute later, Preston finally settled his spine against the seat and allowed himself a smile.
“This is fun,” Preston said. He wasn’t driving a real car, but it was as close as Preston would get. Plus, it was a ride he’d been able to coax his family onto, and it slightly lessened his guilt at keeping many of them away from coasters and bombastic water rides.
Ridgely stretched an arm along the back of the long seat and kissed Preston’s earlobe. “We should go to the lazy river again. You look damn good in your swimming trunks.”
“I really should’ve gotten in my own car,” Warner complained.
“Find your mate, Warner,” Preston pleaded. “Then you can flirt with him too.”
“I kinda have to wait for Fate to arrange that,” Warner replied.
As was his habit, Preston begged Fate at least once daily to find the other halves of everyone he loved. Thus far, she was answering him—albeit far more slowly than he’d like, but something was better than nothing.
“I would like to drive again,” Preston told Ridgely, taking his eyes off the track for a moment to catch his mate’s smile. “After we’re done, I want to see you in your trunks too.”
“As always, Beautiful, you’ve come up with the perfect plan.”
“I’d like to cool off in the pool too, thanks for asking,” Warner threw in.
Chuckling at Warner, Preston wondered how many times he could squeeze in the antique ride before the park closed without everyone complaining. Ridgely’s hand landed on his thigh, and Preston knew he could count on his sexy fallen knight to be at his side no matter what. Their love was stronger than ever, and Preston had to send Fate one more private message. He wanted to share his undying gratitude for her bringing Ridgely into his life.