Fall of the Arch Lich (D'Vaire, Book 6) Read online

“I know, JK Murphy has been keeping us in the loop,” Conley revealed.

  “We aren’t happy about the situation,” Benton told them. “Not with our relationship with Chand and certainly not his with Alaric—but it is what it is. It’s up to him to fix this.”

  “Right, because he’s always done so much to fix his interpersonal relationships,” Drystan deadpanned.

  “What do you want from us?” Baxter demanded.

  “I want you to be his damn friends,” Drystan said. “He’s not going to confide shit in you if you demand it. But maybe if you put your relationship with him back to where it was before this clusterfuck happened, he’ll be willing to talk. None of us can do anything to fix this shit if we can’t get him to open up. Con and I have done our best, but with him buried in a book at home all the time, our opportunities are limited.”

  “You’re always welcome at the condo,” Baxter invited.

  “No offense, but that enormous half-finished piece of shit you live in is not that welcoming,” Drystan retorted. When Chander had unceremoniously ended his relationship with Alaric, he’d demanded that his sentinels find an unoccupied property for them to relocate to. Unfortunately, the only empty piece of real estate owned by the Arch Lich was a two-story unit which had been at the beginning stages of a remodel. There was a kitchen and two bedrooms. Everything else was basically studs.

  “Chand’s not interested in getting the place finished,” Benton complained.

  “It’s too damn big for three people anyway,” Baxter added.

  “You can’t find another property?” Conley asked. “It’s been three months.”

  “I know, but Chander is adamant that the place is fine,” Benton said. “Of course, that’s because he never leaves his damn room. He’s probably got millions of books stacked in there and is in heaven. Meanwhile, the dust is impossible to get rid of, and it’s overall a depressing place to be.”

  “What about your housekeeper?” Drystan inquired. “Is he still living with Evergreen?”

  “Yes, Chand makes a face every time we even say the name Victor,” Baxter responded. “There’s another mysterious relationship he destroyed and because he’s living with Evergreen and his sentinel, the atmosphere in the office is chilly.”

  “Is Evergreen taking Victor’s side?” Conley asked.

  “Can you blame him?” Baxter countered. “The man got fired with no explanation and had like five minutes to get his shit and get out.”

  “There’s one more person close to Chand who should be giving him the benefit of the doubt,” Drystan said. “Evergreen has been his assistant for what, over a century now? He should be trying to be supportive.”

  “I didn’t see you being supportive when you were pissed at Chand,” Baxter retorted.

  Drystan frowned. “His decision separated me from Conley.”

  “And once Drystan was done pouting, he fixed his relationship with Chander,” Conley added.

  “You think we’re pouting?” Benton demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Conley answered. “I don’t know you well enough to make that assumption. Chander has been a good friend of Drystan’s and even if he had no reason to toss Alaric out, he’s still hurting.”

  “He’s always been good at torturing himself,” Drystan said. “If any of us wants anything to change in this mess, we’re going to have to be his allies, not his enemies.”

  Baxter blew out a breath. “I’m so fucking mad at him.”

  “Me too.” Benton leaned against Baxter. “I don’t know why he did this to Alaric or himself. I’m mad at him for destroying his relationship. I’m angry he refuses to discuss anything with us. We’ve been his family for over six centuries. I don’t think it’s asking too much to explain why the fuck he decided to do this. We want to help, and we don’t want either one of them to hurt. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

  “I thought maybe when his demon side emerged, he went temporarily insane,” Baxter confided. “I figured it would take a couple of days or maybe a week or two for him to come to his senses. Then he’d explain things and we’d spend a few more weeks pleading with him to stop feeling guilty and go talk to Alaric.”

  “He’s not exactly the nicest person right now either,” Benton threw in. “He’s always snapping and angry.”

  “Wouldn’t you be if your heart was broken?” Drystan asked.

  “If his heart was broken, he’d have me in his face.” Baxter gave a fierce look to Benton who only rolled his pale blue eyes in response.

  “And where has your sentinel leader been?” Conley asked.

  “Mostly at the compound I guess,” Benton replied. “I’ve talked to Gavrael and Gedeon, and I know he’s been at D’Vaire too.”

  Baxter nodded. “I don’t think we can expect Alaric to get up in Chand’s face. He was awful to him, and I don’t blame him for keeping his distance.”

  “I don’t either,” Drystan said. “And honestly, it gives me a great deal of hope that he continues to refuse to sign the separation papers.”

  “I don’t blame him—I just think it might be helpful if he did get in Chander’s face,” Conley suggested. “If Drystan did that shit to me, I’d be at his throat.”

  Drystan dropped a kiss onto Conley’s mouth. “Not everyone is as crazy as you.”

  “The truth is, Alaric wasn’t even with Chand that long,” Baxter pointed out. “And he’s been in solitary confinement for his whole life.”

  “And up until his mating ceremony, he had a damn spell cast on him which prevented him from doing anything but helping the sentinels,” Benton added. “I imagine this entire situation is beyond anything he’s really prepared to handle.”

  “That’s a good point,” Conley replied. “It’s hard for me to envision a life like that, but it makes perfect sense—it would be that much harder to handle personal conflicts. Not to mention, this is your mate. Getting smacked in the face with harsh words and being tossed out of Chander’s life must have rocked him to the core.”

  “And he’s had to deal with the elders tossing all kinds of bullshit toward him since that happened,” Baxter said. “The Order of Necromancia has tried every which way to stop the Sentinel Brotherhood from moving forward. It makes me want to throttle them. They’re up in Chand’s face every day asking him what he’s going to do to prevent them from gaining their freedom. It’s fucking sick.”

  “And even though Chander has severed his relationship with the leader of the sentinels, how has he responded?” Conley asked.

  Baxter scowled. “He’s been emphatic that he will do nothing to aid the cause of the elders. Chand told them the sentinels are part of the Council, and they damn well need to deal with it. And he has asked them repeatedly to get people to summon the sentinels here so they can, at the very least, get registered so they can be issued their ID Cards.”

  “So, he’s been fair?” Conley asked.

  “Yeah,” Baxter agreed.

  “Even if his reason for kicking Alaric aside isn’t a good one, in his mind it makes sense,” Drystan argued. “He’s not a hot-head who looks for reasons to hate someone. Whatever it is that convinced him he needs to be far away from Alaric, he believes in it. We need to do what we can to get to the bottom of it, so we can see if he’s right.”

  “You think he might have a valid reason for breaking up with Alaric?” Baxter asked.

  “I don’t know,” Drystan replied. “But Chand certainly thinks so.”

  Baxter swung his gaze over to Benton. In the blue irises, Baxter saw both Benton’s resignation and frustration. “What do we do?” he asked his man.

  “We need to be the family that we’ve been for the last six centuries and support him however we can,” Benton responded. “We don’t have to agree with the results or the way he went about it, but we can’t give up on him. He’d never give up on us.”

  Baxter nodded as he tugged Benton close. “He’s not said one bad thing about mates in general. He’s respected that we’re mated and ev
en though we’ve pushed, he hasn’t been cruel to us. I mean, he is angry all the time, but we all know it’s probably self-directed. It usually is.”

  “Let’s be united in this,” Drystan insisted. “We can get together and scream about how much we want to break his face for hurting Alaric but when we’re around him, we need to be shoulders he can lean on.”

  Baxter bobbed his head in agreement. “Deal.”

  “Great, so let’s go inside and see if we’ve got another new fallen knight ready to go rest up for a few days before we beat his or her ass to a pulp in training,” Drystan suggested.

  “Can’t believe I was one of those recruits last year,” Conley remarked as he pulled open the door. Inside, Baxter could see the shadow of dark magic hovering on the ground and knew there was, in fact, a newly resurrected soul resting in the room ahead. The Arch Lich responsible for giving him life was quietly checking his email while he waited until he could make another fallen knight rise. It was one of the ways he improved the lives of all the Council, and Baxter needed that reminder of Chander’s incredible soul. He’d focus on that whenever he wanted to choke him as they continued to struggle to figure out why the hell he’d shattered his own matebond.

  Chapter 3

  Arch Lich Chander Daray was sifting through his never-ending supply of emails as the last of the resurrected soldiers lay on the bed across the room, not yet awake. Chander’s sentinels were cuddling on the couch next to his desk, and he was surprised they were in attendance. He guessed Baxter and Benton had grown tired of pacing outside the door and wanted to rest their butts. It certainly wasn’t from any desire to be closer to him, and he couldn’t say he blamed them one bit.

  He’d shattered his relationship with their leader. Of course, he’d had a very good reason for that decision. His relationship with Lich Sentinel Alaric was over, due to the man’s own actions. One day, Chander had been sitting on his sofa and he’d received an email with a picture of his mate fucking his housekeeper. Chander’s sanity had fractured, and a darkness inside of him had churned.

  Opening his arms to welcome it—perhaps hoping it would tear away at the fragile muscle of his heart—he’d discovered he was a hybrid in the most fantastical way possible. Black wings had popped out of his back, and he’d grown an impressive set of fangs. Chander’s blood had been boiling with rage and hurt. He’d tossed the complicit housekeeper out on his ear and burned the damn bed he’d once stupidly shared with Alaric.

  And when that damn sentinel had teleported back from the compound, Chander had allowed all the hatred flowing in his veins to tear into him. Alaric had acted with surprise, and perhaps it had been genuine. He’d probably never considered that a weak, ailing necromancer would find out he was a cheating slime. Chander had been recovering from a catastrophic heart attack and was expected to only live a few short years.

  Alaric had probably been counting on that. He’d only have to play the game of being a caring partner until Chander croaked. Too bad it didn’t work out that way. Chander’s only wish was that he could despise Alaric as much as he despised himself. It had been Alaric who had cheated and yet, it had been Chander who, against his better judgment, had allowed the relationship to grow in the first place.

  Chander should have known better. He wasn’t some gorgeous specimen who could have someone eating out of his hand. Although his appearance had improved to some degree, he was still no supermodel—but at least he no longer looked like a fourteen-year-old boy. He had his demonic side to thank for that, but it had come too little too late.

  It wasn’t only looks he lacked. He made bad decisions and he never took care of himself. The reality was, people had done little to enrich his life and he preferred books over them. He’d been born to rule the necromancers and yet, the elders had finagled it so he was more of a figurehead than anything else. There was no way to fight back against that, but Alaric’s actions were a different story altogether.

  Chander wasn’t going to stand by and allow Alaric to deceive him. He wanted it over but of course, the jerk wouldn’t even sign the damn separation papers. In a perfect world, he’d be able to march right up to him and demand it. But Alaric spent most of his time at the compound where only sentinels could go and when he was on Council territory, he had an order barring any necromancer from stepping foot near him. Not that Chander could blame him—the elders were probably making his life miserable. While the dark part of Chander cheered for anything that pissed off Alaric, their actions hurt innocent sentinels and that he could not abide.

  Looking up, Chander saw that while he’d been lost in his own head, the new recruit had awakened and was now quietly speaking with Benton.

  “Morning.” Venerable Knight Vann Ruarc waltzed into the room, an ever-present smile on his face.

  “Morning. FK1 Talbot is ready to be escorted to her room,” Benton said. Vann greeted the recently resurrected fallen knight and they were off to find her dorm.

  “Are you ready to go back to the office?” Baxter asked.

  “Yes,” Chander replied before teleporting himself there. He didn’t wait for his sentinels; they were no longer breathing down his neck these days. Once he got to the office of the Order of Necromancia, with his sentinels behind him, he walked in and headed for his assistant.

  “Messages?” he asked. He didn’t bother with any niceties. They fell on deaf ears. Evergreen wasn’t his friend any more than his sentinels were. Without a word, Evergreen handed them over.

  “Chander,” Elder Sigimund called out.

  “What?”

  “I thought you would be in the Main Assembly Hall,” he said. “Isn’t Council in session?”

  “I imagine it is,” Chander responded. “But I had to resurrect fallen knights this morning. Since I’m running late, I decided to skip it. I can use the time to get through the paperwork that’s always piling on my desk.”

  “You didn’t mention you would be resurrecting today,” Sigimund replied.

  “Last time I checked, I didn’t have to keep you abreast of my every move. You know I always do it this time of year.”

  Sigimund pursed his lips. “And you know the elder council doesn’t agree with you being the only person who handles that. The elders are perfectly capable of assisting the fallen knights.”

  “I created the Order of the Fallen Knights,” Chander retorted. “I have resurrected each and every one. I intend to keep it that way.”

  “You are, as usual, being unreasonable.”

  Chander stared at him, unimpressed. “Same goes, Sigimund. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “The elder council would like the support of the Arch Lich in fighting the Sentinel Brotherhood. It’s bad enough they entered the Council and put their blasted headquarters next to ours, but we need to ensure that we’re not forced into summoning dangerous creatures. It could mean the downfall of us all. Not just necromancers but the entire Council.”

  “Do you see the two men standing behind me?” Chander asked.

  “I’m aware of your penchant for allowing those two to follow you around,” Sigimund replied. “But you can’t expect the rest of us to have to suffer because of your poor judgment.”

  “Sigimund, I really wish they were ‘dangerous creatures’ hell-bent on wreaking havoc wherever they go. If that were the case, then there would be the possibility of the entire elder council falling within their sights and I can’t begin to tell you what a joy my life would be if you were no longer in it.”

  “You truly are a foul little man,” Sigimund declared before stomping off to his office.

  “Did he just call me little?” Chander asked.

  “He has a point,” Baxter responded.

  “Okay, you’re a couple of inches over six feet,” Chander retorted. “You get to call me little. A man who is maybe an inch taller than I am doesn’t.”

  “I think he just looks taller because he wears dress shoes with a heel,” Benton added.

  “Let’s discuss what
he meant by foul,” Baxter said as they trailed behind Chander who was heading to his own office. He nearly smiled; it had been so long since he’d been able to joke around with his sentinels.

  “Well, I think we can rule out he meant fowl as in a chicken,” Benton suggested.

  Baxter gave a nod. “True, Chand is always telling him to go to hell.”

  “Am I like bad weather?” Chander asked. “Foul as in stormy?”

  “No,” Baxter insisted. “He could be calling you stinky. Of course, you do shower before you come to work which is something you don’t always remember to do at home.”

  “Yeah, we’re the only ones who know how foul he smells then,” Benton said.

  “I’m going to ignore that,” Chander decided. “Perhaps he means dishonorable or shady.”

  “You aren’t a criminal,” Baxter stated. “Though he might not agree. He was Arch Lich when you were born. He probably sees you as stealing his rightful role.”

  “He was a shitty Arch Lich,” Chander retorted. “Like the rest of the elder council, he was on his way to being voted out when I showed up on Elder Hubert’s doorstep. I actually saved his job for him for the next sixteen years until I could take over.”

  “The only smart thing he ever did was convince the Council to allow the elders to amend the Order of Necromancia bylaws so they would have all that power,” Baxter responded.

  Chander gave him a surprised look. “You prefer the elders to have the powers usually given to a Council leader?”

  “Absolutely not,” Baxter replied. “But it was crafty and foul of him to manage the task.”

  “Nice way of getting us back on track,” Benton said. “In Sigimund’s case, I think all aspects of the word foul apply.”

  “I think if you look in the dictionary, it has his picture instead of an explanation,” Baxter told Benton.

  “It’s a rather lame insult,” Chander concluded. “But everything about him is lame, so I’m not surprised.”

  “Why does he think you’re going to change your mind about the sentinels?” Benton asked.

  Chander had wondered the same thing. He could only surmise that because Chander was no longer with the Lich Sentinel, the elder council thought he was changing his attitude about their race in general. The fact was, he would never forgive Alaric, but he wasn’t going to take out his hostility on an entire race. “I suppose because my relationship with their leader has soured. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”