Rise of the Lich Sentinel

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “You know we couldn’t allow that. The man was a power-hungry dictator. The Council would have been destroyed, and we would all be living by the foul rules that govern the Consilium Veneficus,” Sigimund insisted. “And we had to sign your name to the invitation. You were the leader of the Council, and you had that insane idea to just up and quit as the Arch Lich.”

  “Wish you had just let me quit, don’t you?” Chander asked. “And everyone knows now why I did that. I wanted to get the body of the Reverent Knight back.”

  “The Reverent Knight you resurrected behind the backs of the elder council.”

  “Damn right, and look how that turned out.”

  “Being policed by a group of warriors instead of our own necromancers,” Sigimund griped. “That’s how it turned out.”

  “Don’t like not being able to make up your own rules, do you?” Chander taunted.

  “You are, as usual, being unreasonable,” Sigimund said.

  “Take it up with Fate. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

  Elder Sigimund stormed out of his office in a huff, and Benton closed the door behind him.

  “He’s such an asshole,” Baxter stated.

  “On that we agree,” Benton remarked.

  Chander shook his head. “Imagine me asking Dra’Kaedan to join some stupid committee for sorcerers so we can try and undermine the Emperor.”

  “Never mind that our Grand Warlock lives in a dragon court so he’s—um, hello—loyal to both sorcerers and dragons,” Benton said.

  “Next time he brings it up, because you know he will, tell him to call Dra’Kaedan and ask him,” Baxter proposed.

  Chander grinned. “I just might. Dra’Kaedan would tear him a new one.”

  “Just make sure we have popcorn and front-row tickets to the ass-handing.”

  “What would be the point if we didn’t get to see the fireworks?” Chander agreed.

  “We need to get Evergreen some fake plants,” Benton suggested.

  “We tried that, remember?” Chander asked. “It hurt his feelings. He’s determined to grow a garden.”

  “He has a black thumb,” Baxter said.

  “And Drusa’s right,” Benton replied. “It does stink.”

  Chander picked up his phone to call back one of the numerous people he needed to when he got hit in the nose with an envelope. “Ow,” he complained as he set the receiver back down on its base.

  “What the fuck is that?” Benton blurted out as he snatched it from Chander’s hand.

  “You can’t just fucking send something magically to the Arch Lich,” Baxter declared as he grabbed it from his mate.

  Chander stood up and tried to take it back but he was too short. “Give me that.”

  “All it says is your name,” Baxter responded. “Nothing else.”

  “If you let me open it, I could see who it’s from,” Chander said.

  “Too dangerous,” Benton decided as he nabbed it and tore it open.

  “You can’t just open my mail,” Chander yelled.

  “I just did,” Benton responded in a bored tone. “Oh, it’s from Alaric.” He held it out but Chander was reluctant to take it. It had been a few weeks since he had met his mate, and he’d been grateful to have been forgotten. Knowing he had no choice, he ignored the pounding of his heart and took the note. It was written in bold strokes.

  Arch Lich Chander Daray

  Order of Necromancia

  I fear I cannot finish the bylaws necessary for the petition as I have several questions. Our compound provides fresh food three times a day to my men. How would I feed them at your Council? Each man has his own living space and I understand your Council has housing, but I need all my men to stay together. They need me to see to them, and I cannot take care of them if I am required to travel great lengths to do so. Is there a structure where they can remain next to each other? Training space must also be provided as they cannot allow their dagger skills to atrophy.

  Thank you for your attention to these matters,

  Lich Sentinel Alaric

  Chander was more than a little annoyed by the letter. The Lich Sentinel sounded rather tyrannical. The sentinels should get to decide where they want to live and take care of their nutritional needs. They didn’t need some dictator telling them how to handle every aspect of their day, and they certainly didn’t need the man underfoot twenty-four-seven. Had the necromancers sent the sentinels to this compound as he’d been told his whole life? Or was that a story started because the Lich Sentinel had wanted to have full control over them?

  “You look pissed.”

  “I don’t like your Lich Sentinel,” Chander remarked as he handed the letter to Benton. Baxter peered over his shoulder as the pair read it.

  “He could’ve said something about the fact that you two are mates,” Baxter complained.

  “Apparently, he has about as much interest in it as I do,” Chander stated. He grabbed a pen and paper to reply to the brief note.

  Lich Sentinel Alaric,

  The Council of Sorcery and Shifters is a government that allows its people to make their own decisions within some basic parameters. To create a space where all your men live together, you will need to build a complex designed for that purpose. You can arrange to have a cafeteria and all the training rooms your heart desires. Those are details you can see to after you find out if the sentinels are going to be allowed to join. Please feel free to write me again if you have further questions.

  Arch Lich Chander Daray

  Order of Necromancia

  Sealing it in an envelope, he handed it to Baxter. “Give that to your idiot leader.”

  “Shouldn’t call our leader an idiot,” Benton grumbled.

  Baxter pulled Benton close and kissed him so thoroughly, Chander had the unfortunate view of both their tongues before the sentinel flipped his hood up and shimmered out of the room.

  “He’s so annoying,” Benton complained.

  “Shut up, you like him.”

  “I guess.”

  “Why haven’t you guys done anything as a couple?” Chander asked.

  “We do stuff all the time,” Benton said. “We’re together all the time.”

  “I mean shit together alone,” Chander corrected. “Not in the apartment. Like a date?”

  “How can we leave you alone to go on a date?”

  Chander scowled. “Really?”

  “It’s our duty to protect you.”

  “Right, because every other necromancer runs around with a sentinel or two at their side.”

  “Right, because you are just an ordinary necromancer,” Benton responded. “You’re a Council leader. Most of them have security.”

  “Not the Prism Wizard.”

  “And that drives Drystan crazy,” Benton said. “And no one hates him.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “You spend your life dealing with assholes.”

  “Tell me about it,” Chander griped.

  “So now you can see why we can’t go on dates.”

  “No, because I’m perfectly safe in my own apartment. We all know I’m just going to sit in my room and read.”

  “You need a life,” Benton insisted.

  “So do you, and you need to stop using me as an excuse not to have one.”

  “I have a life. I have a mate. I have a rewarding career and I live in a really dirty apartment.”

  “You guys could get your own place.”

  “Shut right up, that’s not happening.”

  “It’s not fair for you two to have to share space with me—you deserve time off to be alone together,” Chander argued.

  “We’ve already discussed it,” Benton replied. “We would never leave you. We’d both be miserable wondering if you were okay.”

  “Thanks, Ben, but I think you guys should go.” Chander didn’t want them to stay because they thought he needed to be taken care of. He was an adult and his life was just the way he wanted. They deserved
to make their own choices.

  “Don’t get all butt-hurt,” Benton said. “We love you. You’re our family. That’s why we would never leave you.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment but you’re a couple, and you should have time away from me. It’s perfectly normal for a mated pair to live by themselves.”

  “It’s also perfectly normal for a mated pair to live among their family or brethren even in this modern age,” Benton insisted. “In fact, more of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters live in groups than in single units.”

  Chander had to concede Benton had a point. Most couples, especially those outside of the Council Headquarters complex, lived in larger family groups. Necromancers, however, were one of the exceptions and generally kept separate. “The Order of Necromancia doesn’t live in courts like dragons. We live in single-family units.”

  “First, I’m not part of the Order of Necromancia. I am part of a race not yet included in the Council,” Benton said. “And second, we do live in a single-family unit. You, me, and Bax.”

  It was telling that not one of them considered Chander’s mate part of their family unit. “All right, I’ll let it go but at least go out for dinner or something.”

  “I’ll talk to Bax about it,” Benton replied.

  “Good. Don’t put out on the first date,” Chander suggested with a grin.

  Benton laughed. “My mate is obsessed with sex.”

  “And you’re playing hard to get.”

  “You only get one first time,” Benton replied. “I want ours to be amazing.”

  “So, things are good between you?”

  “He’s insane, but yes. He’s better at training than I thought.”

  “I won’t say I told you so but—”

  Benton stuck out his tongue at him. “You just did.”

  Chapter 8

  Alaric was overjoyed when Baxter showed up in his office just minutes after he sent his letter to the Arch Lich. He had wanted to say so much more, but it seemed his affliction would not even allow him to write down words he could not speak. Baxter tossed an envelope onto his desk and Alaric was eager to read it. After snatching it up, Alaric tore it open. The note was brief and hardly friendly, but Alaric was glad to have it.

  “How have you been, Baxter?” Alaric asked. He was eager to see how he and Benton were doing. Like Gavrael and Gedeon, they no longer lived at the compound and he worried over the welfare of all four men.

  “I’ve been great. I have a talented sentinel for a mate.”

  “All sentinels are talented,” Alaric stated. “Fate has made us all assassins to be envied.”

  “Did you read the book I gave you?”

  “I did,” Alaric responded. “It was most informative and there is much I can pass onto the sentinels should we get accepted into the Council.”

  “You read the part about mates?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Care to explain why you are ignoring yours then?”

  “He’s a necromancer and I am a sentinel,” Alaric said with a heavy heart that would never show.

  “I know that,” Baxter spit out. “We all know that. What I fail to understand is why you aren’t even trying to get to know Chander.”

  Alaric stood. “I’ve explained to you my duty is here, and I must see to the sentinels.” The conversation was veering away into personal matters and so he had no choice but to curtail it.

  “I think it would be better for sentinels in general—especially since we are trying to get into the Council—if you weren’t showing a complete lack of regard for your mate who happens to be a Council leader,” Baxter explained. “And the one who leads the Order of Necromancia.”

  Baxter didn’t know it, but he’d just used the magic words. Joy bubbled through Alaric as it did whenever he thought about the Arch Lich. Although over the past few weeks the physical response had disappeared completely, he was still intrigued by the idea of having a mate. Not just any mate, but Chander, with his round, boyish face and pewter eyes. He spent his time as he walked from sentinel to sentinel thinking about what kind of person he might be and what kind of matebond they might have had if Alaric were not duty-bound to the bleak place that had been home for an unknown number of centuries. The Council book said the sentinels were two thousand years old, so he guessed that was his age, but his memory was only comprised of the last century or so. Shaking off those thoughts, he finally answered Baxter. “It would be better for sentinels for me to see the Arch Lich?”

  “Absolutely.” Baxter added a nod as if to emphasize his point.

  “Then I will go and see him. We can discuss how to improve the bylaws I have put together.”

  Baxter gave him a dirty look. “Oh, and your matebond. You could discuss that.”

  “When should I go?”

  “I need to talk to Chand,” Baxter replied. “I’ll come back and let you know when he can meet with you. Probably later tonight after he leaves the office.”

  Alaric was elated. He wanted to see Chander; it had been weeks since they met. And even then, he’d done nothing more than ask him a single question. He would not be able to stay long, but at least he’d get to spend a little time with the man.

  “Thank you, Baxter. I will see you then,” Alaric said as he went off to check on Bridger, who was on edge after what he thought was a lackluster training session with his hologram. It was unlike him to be down on himself, so Alaric would do his duty and build his confidence back up. Then he’d go on to the next man who needed him, all the while thinking about the one he was going to see later—the one he’d never get to truly be with. For some reason Fate thought they should be together, and Alaric was unsure if he should thank her or curse her. What good was a mate you would only see when it was for the betterment of your own race? There was little doubt in Alaric’s mind that this arrangement was cruel and the person who was going to suffer the most was the unknowing Arch Lich Chander Daray. How could he ever explain that it was not his wish to stay trapped here? Would the Arch Lich ever forgive him for being so flawed?

  * * *

  “Hey,” Baxter said as soon as Chander summoned him back to the Arch Lich’s office.

  “Hey yourself,” Benton responded before having another suck face session with him.

  Chander rolled his eyes and continued writing his email. Elder Hubert had written to ask him to reconsider Sigimund’s proposal of setting up a special sorcerer’s committee. Hubert was the only one of the elder council Chander didn’t routinely wish he could strangle, so he was doing his best to type a reply that was at least somewhat diplomatic.

  “Chand, I spoke with Alaric,” Baxter stated when Benton released his lips.

  “So I gathered.”

  “He’d like to see you tonight,” Baxter said. There was a flutter in Chander’s chest, and he briefly wondered if it was a portent to the pain he was increasingly feeling in that area or if he was actually anticipating being in the company of Alaric.

  “About time,” Benton grumbled.

  “I have some books to read,” Chander replied lamely.

  “Nope. You can read anytime. You’re going to meet with Alaric.”

  Chander decided if he had to do this, then he was going to use it to his advantage. “I will make a deal with you two.”

  “What kind of deal?” Benton asked, immediately suspicious.

  “I will meet with your Lich Sentinel…if you two go out on a date tonight.”

  “I already explained to you we aren’t going to leave you unprotected,” Benton countered as he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I won’t be unprotected,” Chander reminded him. “I’ll be in the company of the most capable sentinel there is: your leader.”

  “He’s got a point,” Baxter said to Benton.

  “Okay,” Benton replied as Baxter kissed his cheek. “We’ll go out on a date tonight, but you need to stay with Alaric the whole time.”

  “And here I was going to go find a club and lose his ass in the
crowd,” Chander replied.

  “Don’t you even try it,” Benton warned.

  “Why don’t you idiots call and make reservations somewhere?” Chander suggested. “Use my name—you’ll get in anywhere.”

  “I don’t care where we go,” Baxter replied.

  “As long as we don’t have pizza,” Benton grumbled.

  “Duh, pizza sucks.”

  “Would you two shut up so I can get some work done?” Chander demanded.

  “He’s probably going to make Alaric eat pizza tonight,” Benton told his mate.

  “We’ll order it before we go, or he’ll forget and Alaric will be the first sentinel to starve to death.”

  “You morons are all immortal,” Chander reminded them. “You can suffer from hunger pains, but you can’t die of starvation. And why you need me to tell you this is beyond me.”

  “Do me a favor and don’t call Alaric a moron tonight,” Benton suggested.

  “Not fair,” Baxter said. “Alaric has ignored him for weeks. That is moronic.”

  Chander decided his sentinels were definitely more annoyed by the Lich Sentinel’s behavior than he was. He wasn’t interested in having a mate, and Alaric was apparently of the same mind. Chander expected tonight to be awkward and he would have preferred to skip it, but he knew there was no way he could. At least he didn’t have to push the man away; that would have made things very sticky with the close relationship forced upon them by the creation of the sentinels two millennia ago. Chander’s sentinels continued to bicker over Alaric, but he managed to tune them out.

  He had things to do and it was a waste of time to put any significance to their evening. The only thing he was concerned about was whether they would have anything to talk about at all, though they could always fall back upon the sentinels’ council petition and how it would benefit their people. Chander decided he would do his best to keep the conversation there and not allow it to stray to the more personal relationship that Fate for some unfathomable reason had decided they should share. The reality was, they would be lucky if they could even make it as far as a matebond ceremony. If their brief history was anything to go by, it would be years before they got to that step, and Chander didn’t have the time or the inclination to pursue it. Perhaps they would never share blood. They wouldn’t be the first mates to fail to find the fascination of being paired together.