Rise of the Lich Sentinel Read online

  Chapter 3

  Hunger ate at his insides and fatigue permeated his bones, but Lich Sentinel Alaric was forced to ignore it. For reasons he could not understand, his body and mind were dedicated to sentinels to the point where nothing else mattered. Although there were times when his own thoughts fluttered through his mind, he was a slave to his desire to see to his people. The others slept and ate yet he could not, nor was it possible to communicate his predicament. Not that he would burden the men under his command with his own problems. Fate had chosen him for this duty, and he would not let her down.

  He was embarking on a new journey he believed would help better the lives of sentinels. For the first time since he had been resurrected, he was planning on leaving the compound. Briefly he wondered just how long ago that had been; like all his memories, the ones concerning his age were missing. He knew it was this place which sapped away at his ability to recall things, but he understood it was for the protection of sentinels. Necromancers had the power to summon them and order them to do anything they wished.

  Not all of them had been benevolent, and many sentinels had been forced to slaughter or harm the innocent. By shielding them from those thoughts, it prevented them from losing their sanity. Alaric knew the moment one of his men was suffering from the burdens of their task as their skin would melt away and leave them partially skeletal. They eventually recovered, but it took a great deal of time.

  Alaric had confidence there were no full skeletons in residence, because he knew all his men. Necromancers had less interest in his people than they used to, and they were no longer transported to their world with frequency. This kept them from completely shedding their humanity. Gavrael and Gedeon lived at the Draconis Court of D’Vaire as mates. Baxter and Benton, who were the sentinels of the Arch Lich, took turns doing their duties. They were the only four to ever leave unless it was for the traditional first visit between a sentinel and their necromancer. It left Alaric with a great deal to do as he was saddled with the task of seeing to their comfort. From the stories he heard from Baxter and Benton, the compound the sentinels called home lacked a great deal compared to life within the Council of Sorcery and Shifters.

  That was the reason Alaric had agreed to Reverent Knight Conley Gylde-Kempe’s plan. If he could facilitate moving his men to the Council, he could offer them more. He was scheduled to meet several people, including the leader of the Council, and Alaric hoped the appointment did not keep him long.

  “Alaric, are you prepared to leave?” Gavrael asked as he entered his office. There were no clocks in the compound, so he been waiting for Gavrael and Gedeon to arrive.

  “I am.”

  “Here’s a picture of the living room at D’Vaire,” Gedeon explained. “Is that enough to help you transport there?”

  Alaric looked down at the image and was surprised to see the variety of colors it showcased. It had to be unusual enough to allow him to travel. “Yes.”

  “We will meet you there,” Gavrael stated before his necromancer teleported him home.

  Pulling the hood of his cloak over his head but not so far that he couldn’t see, Alaric teleported to the room in question. He opened his eyes in the two-story room littered with furniture and observed two men who were slightly taller than himself. Next to them was a short man with an ornate blue cloak and a shiny gold crown.

  “Lich Sentinel, welcome to our home,” the tallest man said. “My name is King Aleksander D’Vairedraconis. Allow me to present Grand Warlock Dra’Kaedan D’Vaire and his mate, Duke Brogan D’Vairedraconis.” Alaric nodded at the blond warlock and the dragon shifter.

  “Thank you, Your Highness. Are we prepared to leave?” Alaric asked; he could not afford to waste time.

  “Of course,” the Grand Warlock responded before casting a teleportation spell. When Alaric opened his eyes, they were in a wide circular area off a hallway.

  “This way, Lich Sentinel,” Duke Brogan instructed as he began to walk. Alaric followed and was taken by surprise at the vast array of color everywhere. People walked past garbed in brilliance, and the walls showcased paintings with a variety of hues. Everything at the compound was gray, and he hadn’t expected this world to be so wildly different from what he knew.

  He followed them into a box that lurched upward. Alaric found it to be most unpleasant and was glad to be out of it when the doors opened. Another walkway and they were in the Office of the Emperor. It gleamed with gold and black.

  “Good afternoon, Grand Warlock. I’ll let the Emperor know you are here,” a man with dark hair at an enormous desk said before picking up some device and speaking into it. After setting it down, he informed them the Emperor was waiting for them in his conference room. Alaric followed the Grand Warlock and Duke D’Vairedraconis through a door, and that was when his body began to act in an erratic fashion. His pulse raced, he had a feeling of euphoria—which for a few precious seconds overruled his ever-present need for food and rest—and his blood began to pool in his groin, hardening his shaft. A flicker of a memory permeated through the murk of his brain. Baxter and Benton had each told him about the feelings one would have should they meet their mate. Was his other half in the room?

  He heard the Grand Warlock rattling off names and introductions, but Alaric was only concerned with which one of the men in the room was upending his world. He looked around and was drawn to a man with his head bowed. The small man wore a silver crown that smoked with black magic, and he thought he heard him utter the word shit before he raised his eyes and pinned Alaric with a fierce glare.

  Grateful to be under the confines of his cloak, Alaric took the seat next to the tallest man in the room, noting he wore a gold crown.

  “Thank you for coming here today, Lich Sentinel,” he said as Alaric’s senses finally calmed enough to allow him to conclude he was the Emperor.

  “I seek to better the lives of sentinels, Your Majesty,” Alaric replied though those were not the words he wanted to start with. He wanted to thank all these men for caring about his people and inviting him here but he had no power to convey it.

  “Rest assured, Lich Sentinel, we all wish for that,” Emperor Chrysander remarked.

  “The Order of the Fallen Knights would like to help however we can,” one of the Reverent Knights said.

  “Conley, my concern is if you sponsor the sentinels, the Council will feel you are favoring one race over the others,” Emperor Chrysander explained. “You’re generally expected to be neutral.”

  Reverent Knight Conley frowned. “I guess our help will have to be in an unofficial capacity then.”

  “The Coven of Warlocks will sponsor them, but we aren’t that politically connected,” the Grand Warlock offered. “The sentinels will need more help.”

  “Chander, have you spoken with your elders?” the Emperor asked. “If the Order of Necromancia will sponsor them, this will go quickly.”

  Now that Alaric could do something besides wonder if he had met his mate, he knew the man his body had reacted to was none other than Arch Lich Chander Daray. He should have discovered that the minute he walked in the door. After all, it was one of his own men standing behind him. It said a great deal about the feelings he’d experienced that he had not immediately taken note of Baxter.

  “I’m sorry, but the elders want no part of this,” the Arch Lich finally stated.

  “Well, that makes things more difficult but not impossible,” Emperor Chrysander remarked.

  “What is my first step to help the sentinels?” Alaric heard himself ask.

  “You will need to come up with the official laws which will govern your race,” Emperor Chrysander replied. “Each race is unique, but there are some common rules. You must, of course, work within the confines of the laws of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters.”

  “Our bylaws are probably going to be close to what you will want for your men,” the other Reverent Knight, who had to be Drystan, said. “I will make sure you get a copy. You can start there.”

/>   “Once you’ve accomplished that, you can begin working on the petition to join,” Emperor Chrysander added. “You may need a few mentors to guide you through the process as this will require a lot of votes. The sentinels don’t have the best reputation, so it’s likely to be an uphill battle, but we will do all we can to help you.”

  “It is the fault of the necromancers that our reputation is foul,” Alaric retorted as the leader of that particular race gave him another dirty look. “We have done nothing but serve them faithfully. It is their evil deeds that have forced us to be looked down upon. I seek only to help my men.”

  “Lich Sentinel, the Order of Necromancia is powerful,” Emperor Chrysander remarked, “and you will need their cooperation.”

  “I will work with whomever I must to better the lives of sentinels, Your Majesty.”

  “Lich Sentinel, I will have a copy of our bylaws made for you,” Reverent Knight Drystan offered. “I will have Bax bring it to you when he returns to the compound at the end of the week.”

  “Yeah, that should be enough time to get the repair guy in to fix our copier,” Reverent Knight Conley said though Alaric didn’t fully understand his words.

  “Kyle break that thing again?” the twin of the Emperor asked with a smile.

  Reverent Knight Drystan rolled his eyes. “Who else?”

  “I must return to the compound,” Alaric blurted out. It appeared whatever relentless force was inside him needed to go back and see to his men. The conversation had veered away from sentinels, and he was unable to speak about anything else.

  “Of course, Lich Sentinel,” Emperor Chrysander agreed. “Do you have any questions for us before you go?”

  “Just one,” Alaric stated and hoped he could get the words out. He looked toward the frowning Arch Lich and asked, “Are you my mate?”

  The room was so still Alaric doubted anyone was even breathing. The Arch Lich sighed before closing his eyes. Opening them a few seconds later, he revealed a furious pair of pewter orbs behind his wire spectacles. He replied with a single word. “Yes.”

  Shocked inhales came from several sources, but Alaric could not wait around to inquire about the responses. He stood up and said, “I must go.” He’d never removed his hood, so he simply teleported back to the compound he called home.

  He had no idea what they must have thought about his abrupt departure, and he would have liked to have spoken more to the man he’d just found out was his mate, but Alaric was locked inside his own mind. He wondered what Fate had been thinking to offer him his other half in the first place. She had made a great deal of mistakes when crafting him, and there was no way for him to care for another when he could not even meet his own basic needs. He had a great deal of pity for the Arch Lich. He knew the man had likely waited for some time to receive this gift, and now he was stuck with Alaric. And the saddest part was, Alaric could not even begin to explain to him why that was such a dreadful thing. Ripping off his cloak, he left his office and started his endless march of seeing to each sentinel, one man at a time.

  Chapter 4

  Chander was furious and humiliated. And as usual, the world around him was not cooperating. He’d asked Fate to open the ground and swallow him at least a hundred times in the last ten minutes, but he was still sitting in Emperor Chrysander’s conference room being stared at by all the occupants.

  “Congratulations, Chand,” Chrysander offered.

  “Thanks,” Chander said and was very proud he could get the word out without gritting his teeth. He stood up and knocked Baxter in the knees with his chair. “Sorry.”

  “No problem,” Baxter replied.

  “I’m sorry but I have to go,” Chander blurted out. The last thing he wanted to do was sit around and discuss the fact that he’d just met his mate. The same man who had jumped out of his chair and left right after getting confirmation the startling feelings that zinged through him were exactly what he thought they were. Most people didn’t need to ask that question, but Chander knew sentinels lived in isolation. He likely had only Baxter and Benton’s information to go on. Gavrael and Gedeon were the only mated sentinels, and they didn’t go to the compound unless they had to. From what Chander had been told, that was because the place was a miserable gray prison. Which made it even more insulting that Alaric couldn’t wait to get back there instead of talking to him.

  “Chand,” Chrysander began but Chander wasn’t going to stick around to see what else he had to say. He edged his way to the door.

  “Sorry, I have a meeting I need to get to,” Chander announced and all but ran out. He doubted the Council leader appreciated Chander dismissing him that way, but they’d been friends for two centuries and this was no ordinary situation.

  Once Chander got inside the elevator, which luckily hadn’t kept him waiting, he hit the floor he needed and blew out a breath.

  “Wow,” Baxter said.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Chander snapped as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “But this is so exciting. You met your mate.”

  “I know,” Chander grumbled.

  “And it’s Alaric.”

  “I know.”

  “I wonder what the elder council is going to say?”

  “Who cares?” Chander asked. “And I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Maybe if they find out your mate is the Lich Sentinel, they will get on board to help us get our independence.”

  “Bax, there isn’t anything that’s going to get the elders to help,” Chander responded as he got off the elevator. “They don’t like the sentinels, and my mate being one of them isn’t going to sway them. In fact, it might make things worse for you guys.”

  “Well, that’s shitty.”

  “Tell me about it,” Chander replied. “Look, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. And I don’t want you to tell anyone. Especially not the elder council.”

  “Okay, but you can’t keep it a secret forever, and I don’t really know why you’d want to. Meeting your mate is a wonderful thing. You should be excited.”

  “Maybe I’d be a bit more excited if…I don’t know, I even knew what he looked like,” Chander said. Alaric had never removed the dark gray cloak all sentinels wore especially when they planned to teleport or make themselves invisible. All he’d seen was a chin and part of a mouth.

  “Weird how he never took his hood off,” Baxter remarked. “But I’ve described him to you before. You know what he looks like.”

  “If sentinels have a flaw, it’s that they suck at describing people.”

  “What? He’s got green eyes and black hair.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “I know you don’t realize this, but that’s not very specific.”

  “Sure, it is,” Baxter argued. “And where the hell are we going anyway? Our office is that way.” Baxter pointed toward the other end of the hallway.

  “I’m aware of that. I want to go home. I don’t have any other appointments today, and I can work from there without any distractions.”

  “At least things went okay between you and the Reverent Knights,” Baxter said as they got to one of the areas designated for teleportation. “You first.”

  Chander rolled his eyes before he transported himself to his dusty apartment. He headed for the living room as he always did these days. The first thing he saw was the box Reverent Knight Conley had slept in for over six centuries. He liked the visual reminder of his single biggest transgression in life. Hopefully it would keep him from making another awful decision that separated two people from sharing their lives together. He yanked off his crown and went down the hall to his bedroom. Tossing it onto the bed, Chander pulled off his cloak and added it to the top of his unmade sheets. The next thing he added to the pile was his necktie.

  Rolling up his sleeves and toeing off his wingtips, he remembered his phone was in his cloak and retrieved it before shutting it off. He wanted no calls from people w
ondering about his new mate or the idiots in the Order of Necromancia who never failed to irritate him with demands or annoying questions.

  “Hey, Chand, you hungry?” Baxter asked.

  “I could eat.”

  “They got spaghetti on the menu—you like that,” Baxter offered and Chander rolled his eyes. Both of his sentinels tried to act like the parents he’d never had. “Or you could have a grilled chicken salad.”

  “I don’t want to order either,” Chander stated as he re-entered the cluttered living room.

  “We had pizza yesterday,” Baxter complained. Chander loved pizza and even though his building had a full-service kitchen which catered to Council leaders like himself, he preferred the foods he loved whenever he remembered to eat.

  “Pizza, Bax.”

  “Fine,” Baxter said in a forlorn voice before he pulled out his cell and put in the order.

  Chander was planning on shoving some pizza in his face and then burying his nose in a spellbook. A few months ago, he’d gotten the idea that perhaps there was a way to magically reunite the Reverent Knights with the dragons they’d been in their previous lives. Though he had no clue if it would ever work, he was determined to try and used all his spare time to pour over every tome he could get his hands on.

  What he was definitely not going to do was think about Lich Sentinel Alaric, his strange-ass behavior, or the fact that they were mates. He’d begged Fate for as long as he could remember to leave him alone but just like the title he couldn’t really use, it looked like he was stuck. The only silver lining he could think of was that it appeared Alaric was as disinterested in their matebond as he was. Of course, it also didn’t hurt the man lived in a place Chander couldn’t visit, and Alaric seemed disinclined to linger in his.

  He also wasn’t going to be upset about the fact that Alaric’s stupid question at the end of their meeting was likely a great distraction for the Reverent Knights. They couldn’t have been pleased to be in a meeting with Chander. He didn’t know Conley well, but Drystan had not given him a very friendly look when he’d entered the conference room. The passage of a few months had clearly done little to cool the rage inside of him over Chander’s decision to part him from Conley. Nor had he expected Drystan would calm in such a short amount of time.