Irresistible Indigo (D'Vaire, Book 9)

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “Thank you, Your Highness. I appreciate the opportunity in getting the chance to meet all of you today and whether I am hired or not, I wish you all much success in the future.”

  They said their good-byes to the Shadow Lord and he exited. Brogan left the room to make sure the Duke’s Den was finally empty. Aleksander loosened his tie and discarded his jacket. When Brogan returned, he flopped down on the couch and dropped a kiss on Dra’Kaedan’s head.

  “All right gentlemen and lady, it’s time to review all these candidates and decide who might be going up for a vote on Monday night,” Aleksander declared. “We should start with those that interviewed for both Bera and D’Vaire, so Aeron and Helen can head home.”

  “I’ll make it very easy,” Aeron said. “I didn’t meet one duke today who interviewed for Bera that I’d like to add to my Court.”

  “I agree, and I didn’t appreciate that one nasty young man who gave Aleksander that disgusted look when he walked in here,” Helen added.

  “I’m used to dragons giving me disgusted looks. I barely take offense at it any longer,” Aleksander replied. It was a lie; he hated being singled out because his appearance was different from his brethren. With so many strangers being invited into his home, he’d opened himself up to people who might not respond well to meeting him. It was a price he had to pay to make sure Brogan had the help he needed to keep the D’Vaires safe. The grim reminder of why he preferred to be around outcasts like himself was why he rarely left his big house.

  “Well, that hardly matters to me. I don’t appreciate horrid people like that, and I’m certainly not inviting anyone into Bera who would think so poorly of anyone here. We consider each D’Vaire extended family,” Helen said with a huff.

  “You’re definitely that,” Aleksander assured her. The Bera’s grandson and his mate called D’Vaire home, but Aeron and Helen treated each of them like they were related. Aleksander thought they were amazing people and was glad they shared a border.

  “Would you mind teleporting us home?” Aeron asked.

  Dre’Kariston immediately jumped to his feet. “Happy to.”

  Aleksander stood, hugged King and Queen Bera, then returned to his chair. Dre’Kariston teleported out with them and returned less than a minute later.

  “I suggest we start with the sentinels. They’re going to be the easiest to review,” Dravyn said.

  “Dra’Kaedan, I did not know Bridger had anything to do with your abduction,” Gavrael stated.

  Dra’Kaedan’s mouth flattened into a thin line of irritation. “You sentinels never forgive yourselves for your actions. It’s obvious Bridger isn’t going to let it go, but what he did has no relevance to me. He wouldn’t have done it given the choice. The unfair part about the whole thing is that he was ordered to and as far as I’m concerned, that means he was as victimized as I was.”

  “Please tell me we’re going to take them both,” Gedeon begged. “Gav and I could really use them here to help us, and I think they’d both be great assets.”

  Aleksander smirked. “Show me a sentinel who wouldn’t be a great asset to everyone. My vote is to add Hadley and Bridger as Coven Lords. Anyone disagree?” The room was silent. “Fantastic, we’ll formalize it with a vote on Monday. Let’s get to the dragons. Did you decide on a number of dukes you want to hire?”

  “I’m not set on a specific number, but I don’t want to add more dukes than we add sentinels if that makes sense,” Brogan replied. “The only problem is, I’m not convinced we had enough quality candidates to reach one let alone two.”

  “You didn’t like any of them?” Aleksander asked.

  “Nope,” Brogan confirmed.

  “I disagree. I liked Duke Macardle,” Dra’Kaedan said. “But you acted weird when he was here. What gives?”

  Brogan frowned. “Before his interview, I caught him in the Duke’s Den with Idris, Delaney, and Duff. He was grinning at Idris like an idiot.”

  “Are you serious right now?” Dra’Kaedan asked. “He can smile at anyone he wants, and Idris is a grown man. If he wants to flirt with a hot dragon he can.”

  “He was hot,” Dre’Kariston agreed.

  “Aleksander, we can’t have some duke come in here and mess with Idris or anyone else,” Brogan stated.

  “As your mate said, Idris is an adult. He’s free to do what he wants, but it’s cute the way you’re trying to be his dad,” Aleksander replied. “I’m certainly not going to let a viable candidate slide through our fingers simply because he possibly finds Idris attractive. We don’t even know the situation. He might’ve been smiling because someone said something funny. You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “Something he does all the time,” Dra’Kaedan muttered.

  “Idris is young, and you know he’s inexperienced with men,” Brogan argued.

  “That doesn’t make him any less capable of making his own decisions. He may be young but he’s intelligent, and he wouldn’t appreciate you trying to control any aspect of his life. Brogan, Idris is months away from becoming part of the leadership of the wizards.” Aleksander countered. “Do you have any rational objections to Duke Macardle?”

  “I know Idris is smart and that he’s no ordinary twenty-one-year-old.”

  Dra’Kaedan patted Brogan’s thigh to soothe him. “You’re just being overprotective. Let it go and focus on Duke Macardle’s qualifications.”

  “Fine,” Brogan said. “He’s a black dragon, so he’s powerful. While he might only be a little over two hundred years old, he’s had about a century of experience in his role.”

  “Closer to eighty years. That dickhead he works for now doesn’t appear to let him do much of anything,” Dravyn replied.

  “He is an outcast. Duke Macardle could easily be a sanctuary applicant,” Gavrael stated.

  “Good point. It means he’s probably capable of understanding the types of people who live here,” Aleksander said.

  “Seems pretty cruel to treat your mate’s kid that way,” Dre’Kariston observed.

  “I agree,” Gedeon responded. “Trystan was never treated that way by Conley.” The Reverent Knight had accepted his mate’s son from the moment he learned of his existence.

  “Are you willing to give up the only candidate all of us liked because he smiled at Idris?” Aleksander asked Brogan. “I’m not going to put this up for a vote if you’re a no.”

  Brogan blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not a no. I thought he was nice, and he’s qualified. I think he’d do well at D’Vaire, and I like the idea of giving a man the ability to function in a role Fate all but hand-selected for him. He’s wasted at Court Stenet.”

  “It’d be nice to have a black dragon,” Dravyn threw in. “We aren’t traditional duke colors.”

  “How many navy blue and forest green dragons have you seen anyway?” Aleksander returned. “Most blues and greens aren’t as dark as the two of you. I don’t give a shit if you’re black or not, you were meant to be dukes.”

  “His Highness has spoken,” Dra’Kaedan intoned.

  “Damn right I have. So, we’ll vote on Duke Macardle on Monday. Does anyone have another candidate they’d like to go over in detail to decide if they deserve a vote as well?” When no one offered any suggestions, Aleksander said, “Good. I’m going to go get changed. These damn shoes are pinching my toes.”

  “I swear it’s like everyone forgets warlocks live here,” Dra’Kaedan grumbled as he got to his feet. “Hello, I could’ve cast a spell—not only to take away the pinching but to stretch the dragonskin of your stupid shoes.”

  “Hey, if His Highness wants to spend his entire day with pinched toes, who are we to argue with him?” Dre’Kariston retorted.

  “You refer to me as His Highness one more time, Grand Summoner, and I’m going to ask Renny to turn you into a hippo,” Aleksander threatened.

  “Points for originality,” Dra’Kaedan commented.

  “But points lost for being gross. Hippos not only mark their territory
with giant wads of spit, they fling feces and urine at each other,” Dravyn remarked.

  “That’s disgusting, and I’m not going to ask how you know that,” Gedeon said.

  Dravyn shrugged. “I read a lot of books.”

  “I thought they were all romance novels, though,” Brogan replied. Aleksander decided not to stick around for the rest of their conversation. If the gang felt they wanted to spend the rest of their day in tight shoes and ties, that was up to them. All he aimed for was to get into some comfortable clothing and have a beer.

  Chapter 7

  Mac walked into his grandparents’ home with fresh roses in one hand and a box of glazed donuts in the other. Before he left his truck, he’d fired off a text message to Idris to tell him he was safely back in Maryland. The wizard replied within seconds and though he hadn’t said much, Mac was happy to receive it.

  “Is that you, Macardle?” his grandmother called out.

  “Nope, it’s a handsome prince ready to sweep you off your feet,” he replied as he stepped into the living room where she was pulling yarn out of her knitting bag.

  “The penalty for stealing a man’s mate is death,” his grandfather retorted from his chair.

  Mac bent over and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. “These are for you,” he told her as he presented the flowers with a flourish.

  “Thank you, Macardle. You didn’t have to buy me flowers,” she exclaimed with a bright smile. “Would you grab the pretty glass vase from the cabinet?”

  “I’d be happy to,” he said as he offered the box of sweet treats to his grandfather.

  Lloyd’s bushy brows rose. “Donuts and flowers? You must’ve had a good day at D’Vaire.”

  “I’m going to put Grandma’s roses in water. Then I’ll tell you both all about it.” Mac pulled the vase from its resting spot and strode into the kitchen. In quick order, he filled it with water. Next, he deftly trimmed the stems of the flowers and did his best to arrange them. His grandmother taught him how to treat them, but he wasn’t confident in his ability to show each blossom off to its best advantage. When he was satisfied that he couldn’t do any better, Mac carried them back into the living room and placed them on a small side table.

  “You did a beautiful job, Macardle, and thank you again. They’re just lovely,” his grandmother enthused.

  “Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he told her, then returned to the kitchen. He pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it with milk. Mac brought it to his grandfather since he always ate his donuts with the drink.

  “Thanks,” his grandfather said in between healthy bites.

  “My pleasure.” Mac took a seat on the faded couch and let the grin spread across his face. He was particularly delighted with life.

  “You’re smiling, but I don’t know if that’s because things went well at Court D’Vaire or because it went awful, and now you have a perfect reason not to leave two old people,” his grandfather observed.

  His words sobered the warm glow of all the feelings coursing through Mac’s system. No matter what was waiting for him in Arizona, it wasn’t going to be easy to say good-bye to the two people he loved so dearly. Mac’s grandfather would never forgive him if he stayed in Maryland while his mate languished at Court D’Vaire, so there was no choice to be made. “Things went well. I liked King Aleksander and the other D’Vaires I met.”

  “How many D’Vaires did you meet?” his grandmother asked. “Were you given the opportunity to introduce yourself to their whole family?”

  “No. Duke Brogan’s very protective and didn’t allow any of us to be introduced to the entire family. I met eleven D’Vaire people and one D’Vaire familiar, as well as King and Queen Bera.”

  “I read that those warlock familiars are people too, Macardle. You should refer to them as such,” his grandfather retorted.

  “I did count the warlock familiar I met as a person. I can’t imagine calling him anything else. I was referring to wizard familiars, and the one I was introduced to was a tiny dragon named Roger,” Mac explained.

  “Strange for a little dragon to be present at your interview, considering how protective you say Duke Brogan is,” Lloyd observed.

  “You could say Roger found me. He wasn’t at the interview. He flew into the room where we were all held while we waited to be interviewed,” Mac told them.

  “Did Roger look like a real dragon?” his grandmother asked.

  “Exactly like one. He’s a brilliant indigo color. It was pretty incredible seeing him, and his scales felt just like a shifter.”

  “So, did they offer you the job or not?” his grandfather inquired.

  “No one gets into Court D’Vaire without a family vote, which they plan to do at their weekly meeting. I’ll find out if I got the job after that.”

  “I guess we don’t have to worry about any duke there running around with nothing to do and no platform for his voice to be heard,” Lloyd commented.

  “No, and apparently King Aleksander spoke with Alfred this morning. Alfred told him I was ‘adequate’ and would offer no further details.”

  “Adequate?” his grandmother repeated.

  “Nice words from your mother’s mate,” Lloyd grumbled.

  “I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything detrimental.”

  “That is detrimental, Macardle,” his grandfather argued. “Tell me, you want to go work for King Aleksander or what? Are you hoping they vote you in?”

  “Believe it or not I am,” Mac replied. “My plan is to go to Court D’Vaire, whether I’m chosen as one of King Aleksander’s dukes or not.”

  “Macardle,” his grandfather stated in a serious tone. “You can’t just show up at a king’s home and demand entry.”

  “In this case, I can.”

  “The boy has lost his mind,” his grandfather told his other half.

  “Macardle, perhaps you’d care to explain,” Bretta prompted.

  Mac smiled broadly. “My mate lives at D’Vaire.”

  Lloyd practically jumped out of his chair and strode across the room. Rising, Mac allowed himself to be enveloped in his embrace. “I just had a feeling that was the right place for you. Fate’s obviously smart enough to agree.”

  Much slower, Bretta managed to get out of her seat and Mac hugged her fragile frame tenderly. “Congratulations, Macardle. I’m so happy for you.” When she pulled back, there were unshed tears in her eyes.

  “No crying, Grandma,” he told her as he helped her back to her chair. Once she was settled, he handed over her knitting supplies and went back to the sofa.

  “Tell us all about him,” Lloyd demanded. “What color dragon is he?”

  “Not a dragon, Grandpa.”

  “Did you hear that, Lloyd? He’s not a dragon. A sorcerer perhaps? Or maybe an elf. Didn’t you tell me there were elves at Court D’Vaire?” she asked his grandfather.

  “A couple of chieftains, I read—but they both have mates. Are there other elves there, Macardle?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t meet any elves. My mate’s a wizard. His name is Idris. He’s the one with the little indigo dragon Roger, who came right over and laid on my lap. I was sure Duke Brogan was going to skin me alive when he saw me with this familiar making himself at home, but instead it was Idris and his friends who arrived looking for Roger.”

  “What does your wizard look like, dear?” his grandmother asked.

  “Gorgeous. Dark curly hair, maybe five foot eight or five foot nine, great smile—and his eyes? They are the same brilliant indigo as his dragon. He had a button-down shirt on with the sleeves rolled up, and there were nine white lines of varying thicknesses that encircled his arms. So, he’s a powerful wizard. There are only ten levels for wizards, and the only one who has that many is the Prism Wizard. His friend Delaney had the same amount. I haven’t paid enough attention, or they’ve kept these guys under wraps, because I don’t recall hearing about two such sorcerers. You’d think with them so close to the height of wizard magi
c, the press would be all over it.”

  “I could do a search on that computer you got me,” his grandfather offered.

  “I thought about doing one on my phone as soon as I got back to Maryland, but I decided I’d rather learn everything about Idris directly from the source.”

  “I think that’s wise, Macardle. He might not appreciate you snooping around on the computer for him,” Bretta said.

  “I can’t imagine King D’Vairedraconis not selecting you as a duke when he knows you’re Idris’s mate,” Lloyd remarked.

  “I didn’t tell King Aleksander. I asked Idris to keep it between him and his two friends for now. I’d rather be selected based upon my own merit than simply because Fate chose Idris and me to be together.”

  “Might be rather awkward if you aren’t offered the job,” his grandfather observed.

  “I know it, but at least I’d know where I stand in the household. If they don’t want me as a duke, I’ll simply relinquish the title and become a D’Vaire. It’s not like I’ve earned it over the past two decades anyway. I’d rather have a happy matebond than a vacant title from a king who doesn’t trust me. I’ve had to learn that lesson the hard way.”

  “You were chosen to be a duke by Fate. All black dragons are,” Lloyd retorted.

  Mac shrugged. “Maybe the dragon world has it wrong, and not every black dragon is meant for the same destiny.”

  “You were a fine duke before that jerk showed up here,” his grandfather argued.

  “I’d like to think I was, but if it’s not the right thing for me to be at Court D’Vaire, then I’ll focus my energy on discovering what else I could possibly excel at. I don’t know how Idris fills his days yet—perhaps I could be of some assistance to him.”

  “How long did you get to speak with your Idris?” Bretta asked.

  “Unfortunately, not long but I did get his phone number, so I can text and call him until I hear back from King Aleksander.”

  “Either way, you should probably start getting your stuff packed,” his grandfather said.