Chapter 8
Irritated and rife with anxiety, Lich Sentinel Alaric Daray frowned severely as he sat to tug on his boots.
A man walked into the room, and Alaric immediately glanced up to watch him enter.
He wore an ancient T-shirt with a faded winged skull, a pair of old jeans, and scuffed sneakers.
It was a simple outfit worn by a complex man who never failed to heat Alaric’s blood despite the churning emotions keeping the sentinel from relaxing.
“I could help search,” Arch Lich Chander Daray insisted as he tucked his hands into denim pockets.
Alaric rolled his eyes. “Duc went to Europe and has yet to return. Which means we are searching there. On land owned by and next to the Consilium Veneficus. The wizards there hate necromancers, and you in particular. You are staying here.”
“I’d have two sentinels with me. Bax and Ben wouldn’t leave me alone for a second.”
While Alaric trusted the two Daemon Lords who’d protected Chander for centuries, there was zero reason to put his beloved mate in danger. “There are literally hundreds of sentinels searching for Duc around the clock. We have everything under control.”
Ducarius had been missing for two days, and Alaric was frantic.
The Skeleton Lord was a formidable foe and a loving member of the Daray family.
There was no way he’d go off on an adventure without sending word of his whereabouts, and whatever danger he’d encountered had to be intense for Ducarius not to immediately get away from the threat. Alaric was also pissed off.
Whoever had the audacity to interfere in the life of any sentinel was a fool, and they would pay for their temerity.
It was something Alaric would take care of personally once he found Ducarius.
In fact, Alaric was looking forward to exacting some revenge.
But what dominated his mind the most was what Ducarius was enduring.
There were five men among the Sentinel Brotherhood who’d been abused so thoroughly by their necromancers that their humanity had been fully stripped away.
With the help of Skeleton Lords Gavrael and Gedeon D’Vaire, Alaric had located each skeleton from behind the walls of their cells.
Their magical former home had buried them behind thick rocks for centuries.
Without hesitation, Alaric had offered the skeletons his trust, and it was a decision he never regretted. Every sentinel was honorable, but the seven men who served as Skeleton Lords were special. They were also family. Alaric loved them and counted on them to help him rule the sentinels.
Thankfully, with some time, the skeletons had healed and regained their humanity.
But Ducarius had struggled the most to settle into life within the Council.
Even now, after many years of healing, Ducarius had to be cajoled into trying new things or taking part in any family adventure bar their monthly gatherings at the D’Vaire mansion and holidays.
What would this new wrinkle in his life do to him?
“I’m worried about him too, Alaric.”
Reaching out, Alaric settled his hands on Chander’s slim hips and tugged him forward for a tight hug. “I know. You love him as I do. But I can barely handle knowing he is in danger, let alone having to worry that my mate has encountered some asshole wizard.”
Chander brushed their lips together. “I’m a demonic imp and a necromancer. I can handle asshole wizards.”
“If you are feeling creative, you can write a tale about an imp-necro hybrid tackling some asshole wizards with magic while you wait for me to get back from our search.”
“Sometimes I want to choke you,” Chander muttered.
“I lack the ability to detect your lies with my senses, but I know that is a complete untruth.”
“Fine, I love you, but considering how nuts you are, that doesn’t really say much about my character.”
“For years I have dealt with the mystery of where Drexley has gone, and we’ve had no answers.
No hints where to search for him. With our superior abilities, no sentinel should be lost. Yet now I have two of them.
How the fuck am I supposed to assure the world my men can protect them or find missing populations when my own walk off the face of the earth? ”
The pewter of Chander’s eyes darkened, and his mouth twisted. “This isn’t your fucking fault. We don’t know who is responsible yet, but I know you. They will pay and pay dearly for touching a sentinel. Then you’ll figure out how to ensure nothing like this happens again.”
“Duc is a gifted sentinel. How the fuck did anyone abduct him?”
“I’d love to suggest he decided on an impromptu vacation and forgot to call us, but that’s not Duc.
In fact, that’s not any sentinel. You’re a brotherhood of close-knit friends and family.
He wouldn’t worry you or anyone else for that matter.
But I’m still stuck on how it’s possible to kidnap a fucking sentinel. ”
Alaric sighed as he rubbed Chander’s back to soothe them both. “Gedeon was kidnapped once.”
“Yeah, by hopping into a teleportation spell to ensure an idiot didn’t take off with a member of his family. If he’d had his daggers, he would’ve freed himself in a minute. It was Masse’s stones that drained his abilities and his need to get Renny out safe that forced him to wait for a rescue.”
Decades ago, the D’Vaire family had been plagued by a warlock named Latarian who’d tried a few foolish plots against them.
Grand Warlock Familiar Renny D’Vaire had been stabbed with a knife coated in the dust from a nullifying stone, which had been created by Scythe Lord Masse Daray in his previous life as a mage.
Thanks to Gedeon’s quick thinking, Renny was saved, and no sentinel had gone anywhere without their daggers since.
“Are you suggesting that Duc is missing because he is aiding someone else?”
“It’s a possibility. He’s a sentinel. You are heroes by nature.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s only working a little.”
Chander’s pretty mouth curled into a smile. “Go hunt for Duc. I’ll sit at home like a good little mate.”
“Chand, if you leave this condo while I’m gone, I will contact the Order of the Fallen Knights and have you permanently placed under house arrest.”
“Relax, I’ll be here helping the reapers and our Cinder Lords. They’re using the mapping software to keep track of where we’ve searched for Duc so we can ensure we’re covering the most territory.”
“Good, that is a great help. Try to get some sleep. We have a Council session in the morning.”
“I won’t get any sleep without you. We’ll squeeze in a nap when we can.”
Alaric held on to Chander for another full minute, then allowed his other half to step away so the Lich Sentinel could stand.
“Chand?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Chander grinned, and it lit up his entire face. “I know. I love you too. Now, go find our Duc.”
Lifting Chander’s chin for another kiss, Alaric brushed their lips together and offered his mate a vow. “I will do my best.”
∞∞∞
Ducarius snatched the daggers from his hips as he stalked out of the idiotic castle created by a necromancer who’d spent the last five centuries manipulating Drexley.
It was morbidly fascinating to Ducarius how it was possible to convince any sentinel to give up training, and he idly wondered where Drexley kept his weapons.
When was the last time the sentinel had touched them?
The situation reminded him of Albrecht. Trapped in a tiny cell half the size of the one Ducarius had once called home, Albrecht had been locked away without his blades.
Ducarius had often wondered how Albrecht had kept sane without training to soothe him.
But it was clearly possible, and now Drexley was another on the short list of sentinels deprived of a talent and skill Ducarius needed to practice immediately.
Unfortunately, free space was in short supply.
There was little land around Adney’s castle, and much of it was crumbling away.
Thankfully, Ducarius had found a patch of land at the back of the large monstrosity Adney had created, and it served his purposes well enough.
The moment Ducarius located the spot again, a wave of homesickness hit him.
If he were outside of Adney’s realm, Ducarius would not have to summon a shadowy version of himself to practice against. At home, Ducarius had family and friends at the ready to spar with no matter the time of day.
Every man in the Sentinel Brotherhood enjoyed training, and Ducarius relished the exercise and sense of peace he gained from matching his skills to others’.
But he was stuck in Adney’s realm, and Drexley had somehow been convinced that training was ungentlemanly.
That made zero sense to Ducarius.
Outside of sentinels, people established ways to defend themselves.
Shifters and elves wielded weapons of their choice, and sorcerers created spells to damage their enemies.
Danger was part of life, and no one was less honorable for their desire to survive an encounter with a foe.
Adney’s reasoning that weapons were evil was the most dizzying logic Ducarius had encountered.
And it pissed him off that it was his mate who’d been manipulated to believe such a ludicrous sentiment.
Ducarius blew out a breath as a fresh wave of anger heated his blood.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Ducarius gripped his blades tight and used the bit of magic his creators had granted him to summon a hologram of himself.
Then Ducarius slipped into invisibility and charged.
The muscles of his legs bunched as he swung himself and his blades in a wide arc that nearly decapitated the fake Ducarius.
Desperate for some sense of balance thanks to the wild events of the past few days, he battled his rage along with his training partner as he whipped around the small patch of grass behind the castle where his mate lived.
Ducarius did not want to spend every waking moment wondering what the hell had happened to Drexley in the past five hundred years.
Fate had brought Ducarius his other half.
Ducarius’s primary goal should’ve been to get to know who Drexley was now and build a bond with him.
Learning to love someone as a partner was a daunting thing to contemplate, but Ducarius was excited for the challenge.
Although Drexley was vastly different from the other sentinels in Ducarius’s life, that was not a mark against him.
Drexley had adapted to the world around him, but Ducarius’s suspicions had grown that the other sentinel was unaware that he was being influenced by a draining spell.
That spoke of Adney’s character or lack thereof, not Drexley’s.
In fact, Drexley’s embrace of being a scholar and gentleman reinforced Ducarius’s theory that sentinels could adapt to anything.
Or nearly anything, he mentally corrected as a discordant memory of fellow Skeleton Lord Eduard’s saxophone skill played through his head.
Shaking his head to purge the sound out of his brain nearly cost him in his battle with himself.
Ducking, Ducarius avoided his hologram’s blades. Ducarius regrouped and changed his grip as he sprung up. Rising to his toes, he soared through the air in a flip and nearly stabbed his phantom self between the shoulder blades. It was a satisfying charge, and Ducarius grinned.
A vision of Drexley wearing a similar expression earlier in the library filled his mind.
The other sentinel was gorgeous, and his smile lit up his soft brown eyes.
It was an expression Ducarius hoped to encourage Drexley to use often.
Ducarius wanted his mate to be happy. Which meant he had to tread carefully as he probed gently to get answers to the growing list of questions in his mind.
Ducarius wanted to know everything about Drexley. Most importantly, Ducarius was desperate to learn how well Fate had done in pairing them. Would they someday share the rare fully bonded gifts of telepathy and knowing instinctively the emotions of the other given to a pair of mated sentinels?
It was risky to offer himself and his heart to Drexley, but Ducarius refused to back down from the challenge or reject a gift from Fate.
And Ducarius was already fascinated by the book-loving sentinel who’d set aside his own instincts to build a bond with his necromancer—one who believed resurrected beings were inferior to sorcerers.
Ducarius snarled as he rose to the balls of his feet to execute another perfectly timed flip, and his blades crashed into the nearly transparent ones of his foe.
There were far too many necromancers infatuated with the idea of being superior to others, and that was why the Sentinel Brotherhood so often categorized them as assholes. But what Ducarius could not forget was that whatever Adney’s flaws were, Drexley cared for the man, and he was dying.
Along with the mourning Drexley would surely need to do, everything about his life would change when he had to face reality beyond Adney’s realm.
Ducarius promised himself he would be the strong shoulder Drexley needed as he adapted to the Council.
Determined to be an excellent partner to his mate, Ducarius would stop at nothing to ensure Drexley had everything he needed.
Which meant Ducarius’s first task was to build trust between himself and Drexley.
And if a growing bond meant Ducarius would get to press his mouth or other parts to Drexley, then he would happily accept those gifts.
Ducarius was thankful he had a thorough education of sexual matters despite formerly believing the entire thing was unappealing at best.
If Ducarius was lucky, the future would grant him the chance to use everything he had been taught.
The thought tantalized. Ducarius already understood why the mated people around him were so often fusing their lips together.
Infused with resolve as a picture floated into his mind of doing the same with Drexley, Ducarius flashed a smile.
He threw his dagger, and it landed squarely in the chest of his foe.
Hopefully, that would prove to be just one of many successes as the day progressed. Happy with that idea, Ducarius readied himself for a second round with his hologram and eagerly anticipated being with Drexley once his training was completed.