Rise of the Lich Sentinel

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Rise of the Lich Sentinel Page 15

by Jessamyn Kingley


  “He’s already back at the compound,” Chander revealed before grabbing his duffel and teleporting home. Without pausing he all but ran down the hall to his private space. His sentinels were going to demand answers, and he was going to do all he could to avoid the interrogation. Chander shut his door and his heart was thudding painfully in his chest when one of the men sworn to protect him banged on it.

  “Yeah?” he called out.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t let one of us get back home first,” Baxter yelled. “What if someone had broken in while we were gone?”

  Chander would have rolled his eyes, but the agony behind his ribcage took all his concentration.

  “You’re panting,” Benton said. “Don’t lie because we’re your sentinels and can sense that. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” he called out, the hurt was backing off a bit.

  “Open the damn door,” Baxter demanded.

  “I said I’m fine.”

  “We’ll just teleport in if you don’t open it,” Benton insisted. Because they would, Chander eased himself off the wood and opened it.

  “He’s pale again,” Baxter told Benton.

  “I’m always pale.”

  “Paler, then.”

  “You two act like mother hens,” Chander complained as he crossed his arms over his achy chest. “I’m fine.”

  “Good,” Baxter responded. “Then perhaps you’d like to explain why Alaric is at the compound and not here with you?”

  “Come on, guys. This is between Alaric and me.”

  “We care about you and want you to be happy,” Benton said. “You don’t need to make it seem like we’re trying to meddle in your private life.”

  “You are meddling in my private life.”

  “We wouldn’t have to if you took care of yourself.”

  “Are we talking about Alaric or the fact that you don’t think I take care of myself?” Chander asked.

  “They are both symptoms of your constant need to self-harm,” Benton replied.

  Chander blinked. “That’s it, I’m going to melt the television.”

  Benton gasped. Baxter patted his back and said, “That’s just mean.”

  “You’re both insane.”

  “Why didn’t Alaric come back with us, Chand?”

  “We’re not going to be like one of those sappy-ass movies Ben watches,” Chander retorted. “He has a compound to oversee and I have my work here.”

  Benton pursed his lips and stared. Baxter tapped his boot and narrowed his eyes. Chander gave in. “Okay. I’ll tell you what. When the sentinels get approved to join the Council and he can spend more time here, I’ll give him a chance. Okay? But right now, the timing is all wrong.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to see that the sentinels get approved,” Benton said. “And as quickly as we can.”

  “You do that,” Chander responded. “You know I’ll help how I can.”

  “That place is a shithole. You don’t want Alaric to stay there,” Baxter insisted.

  “Believe it or not, I don’t. Even if shit never works out between us, I don’t want any sentinels there.”

  “I’m just going to ignore your pessimistic attitude about your matebond,” Benton decided. “Now unpack your stuff and I’ll order you some pizza for lunch.”

  Benton took off down the hall with Baxter following. “Order it soon. He still looks pale,” Baxter said.

  Chander didn’t know what he would do without his crazy sentinels. He decided to do as he’d been told and if they were going to order him pizza they hated, he would take the time to eat it. But first, he was going to write down every damn detail he could about the spell that had been wrapped around Alaric’s mind. Even if he had to hunt down the mystery for the next two millennia, Chander wanted some answers. And should it be one of his own dear elders who was responsible for what had been done to Alaric, he’d make sure they paid even if it was his own magic that took them down. No one had the right to cast that kind of enchantment, and whether he wanted one or not, that was his mate and he didn’t take kindly to someone harming him.

  Chapter 21

  “We’re glad you’ve finally found the time to meet with us this week.” Elder Sigimund’s mouth pursed in disapproval. Chander couldn’t really care less if they were irritated. He’d only agreed to this meeting because he’d no longer been able to avoid it. They were driving Evergreen crazy with their requests for his time even though the hybrid now had his sentinel guarding him.

  “I’m sure you have a lengthy agenda and we’re all busy. Let’s get started,” Chander said.

  “Fine. As you know, we have two empty seats on the elder council. We’ve put together a new list of possible candidates.” Elder Drusa slid a piece of paper in Chander’s direction. He didn’t bother to look at it and put it under where his arms were resting on the wooden surface of the table.

  “We’ve been over this,” he reminded them.

  “We know you’re reluctant to appoint new necromancers to the elder council, but we simply have too much work to do. We need more help,” Elder Herminia said. She was the most ancient of the group at over three thousand years old, and she’d been complaining about their workload since the last elder had passed away about a century before. In Chander’s opinion, it consisted of things that either they had no business doing or that were completely unnecessary anyway.

  “I’m not reluctant to do it,” Chander retorted. “I refuse to do it.”

  “Our elder council is only five members when it should be seven,” Elder Wigmar replied. His gray mustache twitched in displeasure.

  “Our bylaws clearly state only the Arch Lich can appoint new elders,” Chander pointed out. “Perhaps I might be willing to consider your request if you were willing to cede some of your power to me where it rightfully belongs as your Fate-born leader.”

  “The Order of Necromancia needs the elder council,” Elder Drusa insisted. “We’re here to help you, Chander, you know that. We have thousands of years of wisdom to assist you in making decisions.”

  “That might hold more water if I was able to make decisions, but we all know that’s nothing more than fantasy. I haven’t been able to rule anything since the elder council gave my leadership role as ruler of the Council of Sorcery to Emperor Chrysander.”

  “You cannot blame us for that loss,” Elder Sigimund argued. “You were going to give the Council leadership to Arch Wizard Egidius. He was unfit to rule.”

  “My point is, when I ruled the Council, you used the excuse that my loyalty was split and so the elder council had to exist to make sure the Order of Necromancia did not suffer,” Chander replied. “Emperor Chrysander has had the Council for over two hundred years. I think we can safely say my attention is not diverted.”

  “You’re the only necromancer the Order of the Fallen Knights will allow to resurrect their men and women,” Elder Sigimund complained. “It should be open to any necromancer—then we wouldn’t feel your allegiance extends beyond where it should.”

  “I created the Order of the Fallen Knights,” Chander reminded them. “You have successfully robbed me of the ability to lead my own people. I’m not handing over anything to do with the fallen knights to you as well.” Chander wasn’t one hundred percent sure the Reverent Knights still preferred him over any other necromancer, so he didn’t add that as he usually did when this asinine conversation came up.

  “Will you not even look at the list of names we have provided for consideration to the elder council?” Elder Hubert asked. He was always the peacemaker, but Chander wasn’t going to be swayed.

  “I will not,” Chander replied.

  “You’re being unreasonable,” Elder Sigimund insisted. “If I were still Arch Lich, I would see to it the needs of our people went before my own ego.”

  “Take it up with Fate,” Chander countered. “I was chosen for this duty, and I wouldn’t bring up your egos. The only reason this elder council exists is because you were all unwil
ling to cede power.”

  “If you won’t listen to reason—”

  “I’m finished with this topic,” Chander stated. “Unless you have another reason for demanding this meeting, I have things to do.”

  “There is one other topic we need to discuss.” Elder Hubert’s look was apologetic, so Chander knew he was about to be handed a whopper.

  “We have discussed the topic of the sentinels joining the Council as a separate race at length,” Elder Sigimund revealed. “And we do not feel it is in the best interests of either the Order of Necromancia or the sentinels.”

  “I couldn’t really care less why you think the Order of Necromancia would suffer under their independence.” Chander’s heart sank. He should have known these idiots would have opposed the induction of the sentinels into the Council, and they had the power to grind this thing to a halt. “But I am curious how you think allowing the sentinels to make their own decisions would hurt them.”

  “They need us to advise them,” Elder Sigimund claimed. “They might wish to live amongst the rest of the Council and that would simply be too risky to everyone, necromancers included. The sentinels are inherently dangerous.”

  Chander’s stomach began to burn. It roiled and his mouth was filled with a horrible taste. He was pretty sure his body was reacting physically to the absolute disgust he was feeling. “Sentinels are dangerous but only to those who seek to harm their necromancers. Otherwise they are much the same as you and me. They do not need your advice. They have a Fate-chosen leader.”

  “I realize it may be difficult for you to be neutral about this topic,” Elder Sigimund said. “The sentinel leader is your mate. A mate you exchanged blood with without notifying this council, I might add.”

  “My matebond is none of your damn business.”

  “Clearly you can see this is another way your loyalty to the necromancers is dubious,” Elder Drusa argued. “No other Council leader has a mate who has been chosen to lead a separate race.”

  “I believe it’s proof the necromancers and sentinels are meant to be under one umbrella,” Elder Herminia responded. “Otherwise Chander and this sentinel leader would not have been chosen to be together.”

  “I’m not going to discuss my personal life with any of you,” Chander countered.

  “You needn’t get defensive.” Elder Sigimund gave him a condescending smile. “We’ve gone ahead and filed a petition this morning with the Council to block the sentinels’ request to become a separate race. We believe they belong with us and in the compound.”

  “You filed a petition without speaking to me first?” Chander asked as he got to his feet. He had more than a churning sensation in his belly; he was sick to his stomach.

  “We had no choice,” Elder Sigimund insisted. “Your opinion is compromised. We have been chosen by Fate to see to the Order of Necromancia, and we can’t help it if you aren’t happy with the decision. It’s in the best interest of our people.”

  Chander slapped his hands down on the conference room table and leaned toward Sigimund. “First, you weren’t chosen by Fate. You chose yourselves. When I was a baby, you seized my power and have never returned it where it rightfully belongs. This isn’t in the best interest of anyone but the five of you, and you damn well know it. Let’s not play games and pretend any differently. And if you honestly think I am going to let this go without a fight, you’re out of your damn minds.”

  “Chander, you must—”

  “This meeting is over,” Chander declared as he swept out of the room with his sentinels on his heels. He heard several voices calling his name, but he wasn’t going to listen to any more of their nonsense.

  “Evergreen, I’ll be working from home for the rest of the day,” Chander said as soon as he got to his assistant’s desk. “Reschedule anything that can’t be handled over the telephone.”

  “Will do, Boss.” Evergreen gave him a bright smile. “See you tomorrow.”

  “If they give you shit, go home and do what you can from there.” Chander didn’t need to explain who “they” were.

  “I can handle them,” Evergreen insisted. “Go home already.”

  “I’m going.” Chander walked out and rounded the corner before realizing he was walking around Council Headquarters without his crown and cloak. “Let’s teleport home. I left my shit in my office.”

  “Meet you there,” Baxter said before shimmering away.

  “Your turn,” Benton told him.

  Chander teleported to his living room and as soon as both his sentinels were in the room ordered, “Go get Alaric. We need to discuss options.”

  “On it,” Baxter replied and left for the compound.

  “What a fucking mess,” Benton complained.

  “We aren’t going to let them stop this,” Chander told him as he pulled off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. He was determined to help the sentinels get their independence, and he wasn’t going to be stopped by the ancient jerks that made up the elder council.

  * * *

  Alaric was working on a tentative schedule for himself when Baxter arrived in his office. Now that he had to stop to rest and eat, he had to be more concerned with completing all his important tasks. He welcomed the challenge. Alaric greeted the other sentinel with a smile. “We keep meeting like this. It’s getting to be a habit.”

  “I know,” Baxter said. “And I’m afraid this time I don’t have good news.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Chand needs to see you.”

  Running his tongue over his teeth, Alaric knew he was going to have to be diplomatic, but he wanted to tell Baxter he couldn’t care less what Chander wanted. The Arch Lich had no problem sending him back to the compound after their ceremony and had made it clear he wanted no part of Alaric’s life. It was a little over a week later, and Alaric didn’t appreciate the man making demands of his time. “How important is it that he speaks to me right away?”

  “Very.” Baxter grimaced. “The Order of Necromancia has filed a petition to block ours.”

  Alaric got to his feet; that was not what he had expected or wanted to hear. “Please tell me the Arch Lich has nothing to do with this.”

  “Absolutely not, they did it behind his back. It’s their modus operandi,” Baxter said. “Chand wants to discuss options with you.”

  “Do we have many?”

  “I honestly have no idea, but Chand is smart and has many connections. If something can be done, then he’s the man to help us.”

  “Then I guess I need to meet with him.” Alaric was a bit annoyed when his heart seemingly skipped a beat at the prospect of spending time with Chander. They weren’t going to be doing anything romantic. They had a mutual interest in the sentinels and nothing more. “Where is he?”

  “At home.”

  “I’ll see you there,” Alaric said as he pulled on his cloak. Baxter had already been summoned back to the condo by the Arch Lich. Taking a moment to push away unrealistic expectations being around Chander would create, Alaric closed his eyes and headed to see a man who didn’t want him. It was important to keep that at the foremost of his thoughts and trust Chander could help the sentinels get around the Order of Necromancia.

  Chapter 22

  Alaric arrived in Chander’s apartment and his eyes were drawn to the man who owned it. His crazy brown hair was somewhat tamed, and he was dressed in a pair of charcoal slacks. He’d matched it with a silvery button-down shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. Behind his spectacles, his gaze was full of annoyance.

  “I understand your elders are doing their best to block our petition,” Alaric said by way of greeting. They weren’t here for niceties, and he wasn’t going to get sidetracked into thinking this had anything to do with their more personal relationship.

  “Have a seat,” Chander invited with a jerk of his head to one of the worn chairs in the room. “We need to start going over what options we have available.”

  Removing his cloak, Alaric sat. “I’m at
a disadvantage. I don’t understand the workings of your Council well enough to know where to begin.”

  “That’s why you have me,” Chander responded. And here Alaric thought Fate had given him Chander for so much more than that. As soon as the thought crossed his mind he wanted to smack himself in the forehead. With his dagger.

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Benton asked.

  “Uh—”

  “This isn’t a social event,” Chander pointed out crossly.

  “Just because you never remember to eat doesn’t mean other people don’t get hungry,” Benton insisted. “I’ll grab a few beers and—”

  “Don’t say pizza,” Baxter demanded.

  “I’m not crazy. I wasn’t going to say pizza.”

  “I happen to like it,” Alaric threw in.

  “Of course you do.” Benton gave Alaric a sour look. “Fate wouldn’t have been cruel enough to give Chand a mate who didn’t.”

  “I’m going to go get some burgers,” Baxter said quickly and all but ran out of the door. Alaric shook his head at the sentinel’s antics.

  “Be honest,” Chander ordered. “Are all sentinels this annoying?”

  “I can’t answer that question impartially,” Alaric replied.

  Benton handed Alaric a beer. It was something he had yet to try, and after helping himself to a taste, Alaric found he liked it. The drink was crisp and refreshing.

  “Anyway,” Chander began after gulping his beverage, “I think we need to be aggressive. We could wait until the Council gets their petition and see how it shakes out. If the Council rules in their favor, then we throw it to the courts. If they aren’t successful then it’s done and we move on. But the reality is if we do that, especially if they initially win, it could drag this thing out forever.”

  Alaric was trained to kill—not sit around and think about it. He liked the idea of launching a pre-emptive strike. “I prefer to avoid wasting time.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Chander said. “I think we should start with Chrys.”

 

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